(A couple of friends and I are discussing bras along with their 15-year-old daughter. I am quite well endowed, while they aren’t, and often get teased about it.)
Friend: “[My Name], do you ever wear a push up bra?”
(Before I can answer the daughter pipes in.)
Daughter: “Are you kidding? She’d suffocate.”
(It is winter. I have newspaper route and while waiting for my papers, I run into a lady trying to get to a resort on the Idaho-Montana state line.)
Me: “Where are you trying to get to?”
Lady: “Lookout Pass.”
Me: “You need to go back eastbound to Montana about 50 miles.”
Lady: “I’m in Montana.”
Me: “No, you are in Rose Lake, Idaho.”
Lady: “No, I haven’t gone that far.”
Me: “Didn’t you see the ‘Welcome to Idaho’ sign? Or the Wallace, or Kellogg city signs?”
Lady: “No, there wasn’t any “Welcome to Idaho” sign and Wallace and Kellogg are in Montana.”
Me: “Do you know where you are now?”
Lady: “Yes, Rose Lake, Montana. Lady, you have no clue where you are nor do you have no clue on how to give directions.”
(At that point I just gave up and just left her.)
Friend: “Hey can you like my status on Facebook? Nobody has liked it yet.”
(Annoyed but willing to indulge her I look up her post and then stare at her.)
Me: “You posted this five minutes ago and ten people have already liked it.”
Friend: “It’s not enough.”
Me: “Are you really so desperate that you have to ask people to like your statuses?”
Friend: “People need to know I’m funny!”
(I am on the light rail train to work when Passenger #1 gets on playing very loud music on his phone speaker. Obviously, this makes a lot of people very irritated, but none of us speak up until about three stops later when Passenger #2, who is sitting a few seats away from me, approaches the passenger playing his music.)
Passenger #2: “Hi there! I just want to commend you.”
Passenger #1: “What?”
Passenger #2: “I just want to commend you. You’re obviously much more important than the rest of us, but you still use public transportation. That’s very good of you.”
Passenger #1: “What are you talking about?”
Passenger #2: “Oh, maybe I made a mistake. See, I assumed you’re better than the rest of us. That’s why you’re being an a**-hole, right? Instead of using headphones like a decent human being?”
(Passenger #1 told him to f*** off, of course, but a ticket inspector who got on at the next stop made him turn off his music. Passenger #2 was shaking with adrenaline when he returned to his seat and I overheard him telling his friend that he’d always wanted to tell somebody like that off.)
(My college roommate is from Japan, so we try to hunt down the things and foods that she has trouble finding in the US. During our sophomore year, we are in a tiny Asian market and find packets of “furikake” (flavor packets you can add to rice, which often includes dehydrated veggies, etc) in a specific brand she loves. She is so excited, she brings several to take back to the dorms. Our dorms are part of the original college campus built in the late 1800s, so there are a lot of appliances we aren’t allowed to have, and there isn’t a rice maker in the common kitchen. I really wasn’t sure how she planned to use the furikake. We get back to our dorm, and she starts carefully moving everything out of her small closet.)
Roommate: “Ah! Here it is!” *pulls out the smallest rice cooker I’ve ever seen* “Ta dah!”
Me: *surprised* “Have you had that this whole time?”
Roommate: “Un.” *says casual version of “yes” and then dives back into the closet*
(I hear her dragging something heavy across the floor, which turns out to be a 10 lb bag of rice she’d somehow managed to fit into the back of her closet.)
Me: *jaw drops* “Where did that come from?”
Roommate: “I bought it during move-in week!”
(As if everyone keeps a 10 lb bag of rice in their closet. She then pulls out a variety of other Japanese goods she’d apparently been squirreling away.)
Me: “You have a Japanese food Mary Poppins closet!”
(That night we had rice with mushroom furikake, and it was delicious.)
