(My grandmother is friends with her doctors, a husband and wife team. She is a seamstress. They ask if she can adjust some clothing for them, simple things such as hems. She is happy to do so.)

Grandmother: *to me* “I finish the doctor’s sewing and take it back to them, only to find that their receptionist has a bag of clothes she wants me to adjust”.

Me: “Was she jealous that you did it for them and wanted her turn, too?”

Grandmother: “Yes, I think so. Silly me, I said I would. The clothes were all brand new. She wanted them all let out.  I had to unpick the seams and then sew thinner seams.”

Me: *being a sewer too* “That would have taken ages. You might as well have been making them from scratch.”

Grandmother: “Yes, I know, I finally took them in today. Told her that next time she has to buy clothes that actually fit.”

(I am attending a work party. We are allowed to bring plus-ones so I have brought along my male friend. My colleague brings her boyfriend. My friend and her boyfriend have been getting on very well and have been talking for ages. My friend has wandered off to get something. It should be noted that compared to most people in my office, I am very “geeky.”)

Colleague: “Okay, so, now that we know [Boyfriend] and [Friend] get on, I’m going to do the really awkward introductory thing so that you get to know [Boyfriend]. [My Name], [Boyfriend] likes comics. [Boyfriend], [My Name] likes comics.”

Boyfriend: “Awesome! You do?”

Me: “I do?”

Colleague: “Er, don’t you?”

Me: “Um… they’re all right. I mean, if you give me one, I’ll read it. But I don’t go out of my way to read them, and even then, it’s usually manga.”

Colleague: “Oh. Well, this is embarrassing. I could have sworn you said you liked comics.”

Me: “Like I said, I don’t dislike them; I just don’t really read them. That being said, [Friend] reads them.”

(My friend happens to walk up to us at that point.)

Friend: “What do I read?”

Me: “Comics. Apparently, [Boyfriend] does, too.”

Friend: “You do? Awesome! Which ones?”

(My friend and my colleague’s boyfriend immediately launch into a long discussion about comics.)

Colleague: “So… that didn’t work. They’re just talking to each other again.”

Me: “Hey, at least they’re making new friends!”

This story is part of our Making Friends roundup!

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(Back in the ‘80s there is a major news story about a huge riot that occurred in a nearby suburb. The suburb isn’t a very affluent one and keeps getting a bad name in the press.)

Me: *to friend who lives in suburb* “Did you hear about the riot?”

Friend: “I was there; it wasn’t a riot. I saw it all. The press made it up.”

Me: “You were there?”

Friend: “Yes. I was in the park trying out my new camera,. There were a bunch of kids playing football when a helicopter flew down. It hovered above the field, only a few metres off the ground, pointing a camera down. All the kids raced to get under it; they were pushing each other out of the way to get in the picture.”

(He pulled out a picture that showed the news helicopter hovering above about 30 kids. It was only about five metres above them. When I saw footage of the ‘riot’ I noticed that all the kids were waving or pointing up at the helicopter. They were running into each other because they were looking up instead of where they were going. Some riot! Must have been a slow news day.)

(I am eating dinner with my husband at an outdoor restaurant, as the sun is setting. Two teenage girls are a little ways away from us. One girl takes a photo of the sunset with her phone, and we overhear this conversation.)

Girl #1: *typing* “One of the most beautiful views I’ve seen in a while. Waffle fry sunset, waffle fry outdoors, waffle fry sky…”

(She trails off as she sees the other girl looking at her strangely.)

Girl #1: “What?”

Girl #2: “Did you just call the hash-tag symbol a waffle fry?”

Girl #1: “Yeah. Why?”

Girl #2: *laughing* “You are so weird!”

Girl #1: “Come on, I’m not the only one who does it.”

(At this point, my husband decides to put his two cents in.)

Husband: *calling over* “It’s true! I do it all the time!”

Girl #1: *triumphantly* “See?!”

(I have a habit of leaving random supplies around, and everyone in my family has been quite sick lately. This led to the following conversation.)

Me: “So, don’t be too concerned about me saying this, but if something super bad happens to me there’s a graph paper notebook in the top shelf of my closet. Knock yourself out.”

Best Friend: “Don’t say that! Now I want something super bad to happen to you.”

Me: “…”

Best Friend: “In my defense, graph paper is the bomb.”