(I am walking through a store with a friend of mine when we walk past a woman with many tattoos and piercings, and crazy colored hair. It is summer time, and she is wearing a really cute sun dress. Note: Utah can be quite a conservative state.)
Me: “Hey! I love your dress!”
Woman: “F*** off! Wait… what did you say?”
Me: “Uh… I like your dress?”
Woman: “Oh s***. Thank you!”
(My mother has a heavy accent. My best friend, who’s constantly worried about her weight, and I, are looking for prom dresses at our favorite store.)
Me: “I love that dress on you!”
Friend: “I don’t know. Do you think this dress makes me look fat?”
My Mother: “No! YOU make dress look fat! Dress make you look purple.”
(I am on the bus. Three guys get on and, out of the corner of my eye, I see them look at me, exchange some whispers and approach me.)
Guy #1: “So… where are you headed?”
Me: “Just to the city for the day.”
Guy #2: “You should come hang out with us.”
Me: “No, thanks; I’m meeting up with a friend.”
Guy #1: “Well, ditch them and come hang out with us.”
Me: “No, thanks.”
Guy #3: “Come on.”
Me: “No, thanks.”
(After the third refusal, they take their seats, one behind me, one in front of me, one next to me, essentially cornering me. They continue to attempt to persuade me to hang out with them for another two stops and I’m beginning to get quite frightened as they’re all about a foot taller than me. Suddenly, a stranger approaches.)
Stranger: “Hey, um, excuse me. Can I sit next to my girlfriend please? There are plenty of free seats.”
Guy #3: “Girlfriend?”
Stranger: “Yeah; can you move?” *turns to me* “Hey, baby, how was work?”
Me: “Okay…”
(Guy #3, who is sitting next to me, vacates the seat after the stranger gives him a meaningful look. The stranger takes his spot, wraps his arm around me and passes me his phone in which he’s typed the message ‘My name’s [Name]; play along.’. We spend the rest of the trip exchanging details about our day and future plans we have with ‘friends’ until, near the city, the three guys get off.)
Stranger: “Oh, my god! I hope I wasn’t crossing a line or anything! I just got on the bus and you looked so scared!”
Me: “I WAS scared; thank you SO much!”
Stranger: “My pleasure; I thought those guys looked like creeps. We made a good couple! Do you have a boyfriend?”
Me: “Yeah.”
Stranger: “Same!”
(We definitely stayed great friends after that!)
(I’m a female. My friend had just broken up with her boyfriend, since all he wanted was sex.)
Friend: “If you like something put a ring on it.” *looks at me* “Why the h*** haven’t you given me a ring yet?”
Me: *blinks and makes a ring out of paper towel and wraps it around her ring finger* “There, now you have one.”
Friend: *shows it off to the other people at the table*
(Two minutes later.)
Friend: *rips the ring off and throws it at me* “I’m tired of your crap! I’m breaking up with you!”
(In rugby, ‘hooker’ is a front-row position, and is often given to one of the smaller members of the team, as it requires flexibility over strength. In my grade 11 year, our hooker is a grade 8 student with one of those K names that are so popular. There are three other girls on the team with a name similar enough to be confusing. Because of this, one of my classmates who is also on the team (and has a bit of a reputation for running her mouth and getting in fights) calls her ‘K-hooker’.)
Friend: *passing K in the hallway while with another grade 11 girl* “Hey, K-hooker.”
K-Hooker: “Hey.” *keeps walking*
Girl: *looks at friend, totally appalled* “Did you just call that little girl a hooker?”
Friend: “What?”
Girl: “I can’t believe you, [Friend]! How could you say something like that to her? She’s just a kid!”
Friend: “What? Wait, no! It’s a rugby position! She plays hook! That’s just her nickname. She knows what I meant by it.”
Girl: “Yeah, right. I can’t believe you. You’re such a b****, [Friend].”
Friend: “No! Well, yes, actually, but this time, no! Not in this!”
