(Two dorm-mates have suddenly started doing stuff like literally jumping into each others’ arms and kissing on a nearly daily basis. One evening, it’s just the three of us in the dining room. I decide to give them some privacy by sneaking in as far away as possible…)

Her: “Oh, no, [My Name]! Don’t be all alone! You can sit over here!”

Me: “A-all right…”

(We are chatting as normal for a few minutes.)

Him: “By the way…” *hands over a phone charger* “You forgot this in my room the other day, babe.”

Her: “Thanks, hun…” *turns to me* “Oh, that’s right. I gotta tell you something. [My Name], we’re actually going out now!”

Me: “…No s***?”

(I am getting to know my college roommate, who up to this point has been, by all accounts, a very likable person.)

Roommate: *conversationally* “Oh, by the way, I was once arrested for a hate crime. Wasn’t convicted though.”

Me: *silent for a few seconds* “Um… what?”

Roommate: *still without batting an eye* “Yeah, I beat the s*** out of one of those d*** Jews. Got nothing against the gays though, so you’re fine.”

Me: *still in shock* “Well, that’s comforting.”

(Suffice to say, I requested a room change shortly after. Part of me thought he might have been joking, but I wasn’t going to share a room with a possibly violent bigot, regardless of whether it was directed at my particular minority.)

(My freshman year I live in an all women’s dorm where you could hear almost everything through the walls. One afternoon my roommate has her friend wait out a bad storm in our room when we start hearing a bed squeaking and moaning coming from the floor above us. Ten seconds later it stops.)

Friend: “Well I’m not sure who’s more embarrassed: that girl, her boyfriend, or the unfortunate audience.”

(My boyfriend and I are working on our respective papers in one of our school’s quiet study rooms. This is at a point where he is very absorbed in his work. He knows I’m an avid Pokémon fan.)

Me: “I love you!”

Boyfriend: “Ditto.”

Me: “…That’s a Pokémon, darlin’.”

Boyfriend: *pauses, then laughs* “I love you, too.”

Me: “That’s better.”

(My grandpa has driven five hours to visit me at college. At both my and my grandmother’s insistence, he takes her smartphone with him, because he’s never been to the part of the state where my school is and it’s easy to get lost. He and I have gotten to talking about how smartphones work.)

Grandpa: “So, if I turn it off like this—” *hits the button to make the screen go black* “—how does it know when I get a call?”

Me: “Well, think of it more like a computer. You’re not powering it off all the way; it’s more like screensaver mode.”

Grandpa: “But…” *lights up the screen again a couple of times*

(My grandpa was an engineer at a phone company for 30 years; when I told my aunt, she told me that he never understood how cellphones worked without wires, and both coworkers and family had to talk him into retiring early!)