Finally Got To Dish The Dirt

, | Rexburg, ID, USA | Friendly | April 23, 2014

(In our apartment there are three bedrooms with two beds in each room. The roommate who shares my room is a close friend of mine and we were roommates the previous semester. All of the other girls are new, and no one knew each other before we moved in together. I am engaged so I am rarely home. My friend/room-roommate is also rarely home, and as such we never do the dishes since we don’t eat at our apartment. Throughout the semester there is a lot of tension, and my room-roommate and I don’t know why. Passive-aggressive notes show up all throughout the semester about dishes, but we just ignore them because we don’t use dishes. We notice that our food often ‘disappears’ but we just stop buying more. The following exchange occurs with one of the roommates the semester after everyone moves to different apartments.)

Me: “Hey! Long time no see! How are you?”

Roommate: “I’m doing well. I’m living in [new apartment complex] now.”

Me: “Oh yeah? Didn’t you move out because of [other roommate who made everyone uncomfortable]?”

Roommate: “Yeah. We learned some more things about her after you left.”

Me: “Yeah? Like what?”

Roommate: “Remember how there were all those notes about the dishes?”

Me: “Oh, yeah. [Room-Roommate] and I thought they were directed at us, but we were confused about it because we never used dishes.”

Roommate: “Apparently [Roommate who made everyone uncomfortable] kept using your dishes and would leave them dirty in the kitchen. Then she would say that you guys left them and show her own clean dishes so she didn’t have to clean them!”

Me: “WHAT?! How could someone do that?! And how did you figure it out?!”

Roommate: “It turns out she tried to do that this semester, but because all of her roommates stayed home, she got caught. She only got away with it before because you guys were never home.”

(After I said goodbye to her I called up my room-roommate and told her what I had learned!)

But Still Won’t Be Ginger

| UK | Friendly | April 23, 2014

(I am a transgender man. I have very recently started to transition. I am discussing the haircut I want with my friend. We are both huge fans of Doctor Who.)

Friend: “You’ll look like a completely different person.”

Me: “Yeah, I know. It’s— oh, my god!”

Friend: “What?”

Me: “I’m gonna regenerate! That is so cool!”

Friend: “Woah…”

(And from then on, my transition was known as my ‘regeneration’.)

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Will Be Trying Until The Cows Come Home

| NY, USA | Friendly | April 22, 2014

(At a club event we are playing a ‘This or That’ game. We must move to one side of the room or another based on our choices. [Friend #1] was recently featured in the university newspaper for her lifelong passion of raising dairy cows.)

Caller: “Horse or cow?”

Friend #1 *on the cow side* “Ohhhh, no questions there!”

Friend #2 *on the horse side* “But you can’t ride a cow!”

(Everyone looks at Friend #1, knowing her love for cows.)

Friend #1: “Pfft! Pfft! Yes…Yes, you can! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!”

The Floor Should Have Been Plastered

| CT, USA | Friendly | April 22, 2014

(I am drinking with my friends in a recently finished basement at Friend #1’s house. The carpet is white and brand new. We have all had our fair share of drinks at this point of the evening and are sitting on the floor playing a card game. Friend #2 spills her beer all over the carpet.)

Me: “Oh, no! Quick, someone grab some towels!”

Friend #1: “My parents are going to kill me if this stains.”

(I get some towels and start soaking up the spilled beverage. Friend #2 knocks me out of the way.)

Friend #2: “No, no, no! The carpet needs to be buzzed!”

(She proceeds to not only rub in the spilled alcohol with her hands into the carpet, but actually pours more beer on it. She then proceeds to pass out a few minutes later and we are able to clean up the spill.)

Friend #1: “Well, at least we got that taken care of, I just hope the carpet doesn’t have a hangover in the morning.”

First Class Has No Class

| London, England, UK | Friendly | April 22, 2014

(After my best friend moved down the coast, I make two or three trips a year to visit him. By booking well in advance and using a rail card, I get a first class ticket. This particular trip I have sat in my reserved seat and have just put my laptop on the table when two business-types, a man and a woman, walk into the carriage. The man sits down opposite me and the woman just stands and stares at me.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Woman: *stares*

Me: “Um, right. Could you not stare at me. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Woman: *stares*

Man: “Get out of her seat, please.”

Me: “Er… this is my seat?”

Man: “Look you’re a kid. You probably made a mistake. That’s okay, but this is first class and you need a reservation for these seats.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I have my ticket right here and the reservation with it.”

Man: “That’s not right. They don’t sell first class tickets to children. Now leave before I make you.”

(I should note that the woman has just stood there and stared at me this whole time.)

Me: “Yes, they do. I have one here. If you try and make me using physical force I will be well within my rights to use self defense.”

Man: “Look, I don’t want to hurt you. I do karate so I could easily break your arm if I needed to. I think it best you leave.”

(At this point the conductor reaches the carriage and the man sits back looking very smug, thinking I’m about to be thrown out. The conductor checks my ticket and then asks the man for his.)

Conductor: “Sir, this ticket is for the train heading to Manchester. You are on the train heading to Plymouth. I’m not really sure how you ended up here since that service leaves from an entirely different station. You will need to get off at the next stop and the station conductor will fine you for traveling on this service without a valid ticket.

(The man’s and woman’s faces went through an alarming range of colors including red, white, and blue before they both got up and headed to the end of the carriage wherein they started making frantic phone calls.)

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