(The cafe I work at has a group of regulars who play Dungeons & Dragons at a corner table in the weekend. It’s generally funny to listen in on the game when it’s quiet.)

Dungeon Master: “The thugs attack you. Congratulations; it’s a bar fight. Initiative, please.”

Girl Playing Wizard: “I will hide under the table and plug my fingers into my ears.”

(The rest of the players give her this slightly amused look.)

Girl Playing Wizard: “My character is a bookworm and a coward. Deal with it.”

(Every time she routinely hides during combat — in a wardrobe or a bush, polymorphing into a tree or turning invisible and stomping her feet in place to simulate running away — the group loves it. Later on in the campaign:)

Dungeon Master: *sighs heavily* “The innkeeper’s daughter, charmed and fascinated by your stories, is now in love with you.”

Guy Playing Bard: “Nice!”

Dungeon Master: “She’s sixteen. Her father calls the town guard.”

Guy Playing Bard: “Wait… Oh… What?”

(Cue a twenty-minute discussion about whether the age of consent applies in a largely medieval fantasy setting, before putting it up to vote with us and the patrons listening in. The bard is sent to jail with all votes — jokingly — against him. The adventure moves to breaking the bard out of jail.)

Dungeon Master: “The cell door is locked.”

Girl Playing Rogue: “I try to pick the lock.” *fails*

Girl Playing Wizard: “I think I have a spell for–”

Guy Playing Fighter: “I stuff my stick of dynamite in the lock to blow it open.”

(Total table silence.)

Guy Playing Fighter: “Hey, if it works!”

(Much later in the campaign:)

Girl Playing Wizard: “I cast…. uh… Charm Person on the warlord?”

Dungeon Master: “He throws his axe down and grasps your hand, proposing to you on the spot.”

Girl Playing Wizard: “I try to politely reject him!”

Dungeon Master: “He’s charmed by you, and his behavior hasn’t changed. He grapples you…” *rolls dice* “…and carries you off. That ends today’s session; we’ll pick up next week for the wedding.”

(My sister is grocery shopping when a man comes up to her. She’s wearing a shirt with an AC/DC logo.)

Man: “Hey, miss, are you wearing an AC/DC shirt?”

Sister: “Yes?”

Man: “Kids, using real music to look cool. Do you even listen to AC/DC?”

Sister: “Actually, I love classic rock. I think it’s because when I was a baby, my dad would give me my bottles while watching Headbangers Ball on MTV2.”

Man: *pauses* “Your father is a good man.”

(I am telling my roommate about my cousin who just paid for an operation on his cat.)

Me: “It cost him over $7,000!”

Roommate: “He could have had him stuffed and memorialized forever for less than that.”

(I buy a new screen for my PC and then find a free seat on the subway to sit down, holding the package vertically on my lap. The subway fills up quickly, until an older lady stands beside me with no place to sit down. Despite the weight of the screen, I offer her the seat and try to stand up… when suddenly she slaps the top of the package and forces me back into the seat. Startled, I look at her for a second, until she says:)

Woman: “I’m not that old to be offered a seat; don’t you dare to stand up. Wait at least ten years to try that again.”

(Well… Okay, then.)

(I have pet rabbits. My neighbor asks me if his seven-year-old daughter can see them. I accept.)

Me: “Here they are.”

Daughter: “Bunnies! Can I hold one?”

Neighbor: “Of course, sweetheart.”

Me: “I have to advise against it. They might get spooked and start shrieking if picked up by an unfamiliar person. Maybe after they get used to you.”

Neighbor: “That’s just silly. It’s not like we’re wolves ready to eat them.”

Daughter: “I brought them carrots. Can I feed them?”

Me: “Sorry to break it to you, honey, but more than a teaspoon and they might get sick.”

Daughter: “But Bugs eats carrots.”

Me: “Bugs is a cartoon, and cartoons can do many things real animals cannot.”

Daughter: “Oh, that makes sense I guess. What do they eat?”

Me: “Mostly hay, grass, and leafy greens.”

Daughter: “Bunnies are weird, but cute… Can I use the restroom, please?”

(After we get back from the restroom, I see my neighbor has picked up a bunny which, as I expected, starts shrieking. I take the poor thing out of his hands and gently put him back.)

Neighbor: “What the h*** was that?!”

Me: “Congratulations! Your first scared rabbit. I did ask you not to pick them up.”

Daughter: *with a mouthful of cookies* “Daddy should practice what he preaches.”

(He asked me a few days later if he could have any baby bunnies. All of my rabbits are neutered and spayed, but even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t give him one.)