Barking Up The Wrong Family Tree

| Friendly | June 16, 2014

(My roommate comes in while I’m on my computer.)

Roommate: “Hey, what are you looking at?”

Me: “I’m going through this genealogy website my dad posted up. It has all of our extended family, going back several generations, and even has photos of relatives.”

Roommate: “Cool. Can I check out some of the girls in your family?” *points to one name* “How about this Sequoyah chick over here?”

Me: “Um… Sequoyah is my uncle.”

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A New Dimension Of Thinking

, | Friendly | May 21, 2014

(I am quizzing a friend for her exam. She wants to sleep.)

Me: “[Friend], are you lying down?”

Friend: “No. I’m standing up.”

(There is a pause.)

Friend: “Horizontally.”

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Causing A Stink For The Wrong Reasons

| Related | May 17, 2014

(My parents are helping me move into a dorm. Note that I’ve always had difficulty making friends due to a combination of shyness and a short temper.)

Mother: “Okay, [My Name]… remember to wash your hair, shave regularly, and put deodorant on every morning, or people won’t want to be friends with you.”

Me: “There are plenty of reasons people don’t want to be friends with me, but I don’t think my hygiene is one of them.”

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Finally Got To Dish The Dirt

, | 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!)

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Not Built Like A Tank, But Can Carry One

, | Friendly | April 17, 2014

(In my dorm, there is a filtered water machine in the basement. I frequently use it to fill my 10-gallon fish tank. I’m a 5’6″ 120 lb female, but I work out a lot and I’m able to lift my own body weight. When my fish tank is full, it weighs about 100 lbs. I bring my fish tank downstairs and fill it up, and walk the long hallway carrying the heavy tank, when a guy catches up to me.)

Guy: “Hey, do you need any help with that? It looks really heavy!”

Me: “Oh, no, thanks. It’s really not that bad.”

Guy: “No, really. I can carry that. Don’t want you to get hurt!”

Me: “Really, I’m fine. I fill this thing up all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

Guy: “Come on! You have a guy offering you help!”

Me: “I don’t need any help from you.”

(The elevator comes.)

Me: “Do you mind hitting six? Thanks.”

Guy: “Here, let me take that.”

(He grabs the tank from my arms, scraping them with the corners, leaving bruises.)

Me: “… Dude! Seriously?!”

Guy: “D***! This is heavy! Oh, no!”

(Suddenly, he loses his grip and drops my fish tank. Of course, it’s glass, so it shatters. Thankfully, we both only had minor cuts from the glass, which flew everywhere. The elevator is soaked, and I could see water running into the crack below the door and hear it dripping down the shaft. The door opens on his floor a few seconds later.)

Guy: “You should have warned me it was so heavy! Pretty girls like you who expect men to do EVERYTHING for you PISS ME OFF! Now I’m all cut up thanks to you! UGH!” *storms out of the elevator*

(I called maintenance and helped them clean it up. I found out that guy lived on my boyfriend’s floor, and we insisted that he pay for a new tank. He eventually gave in and got me a five-gallon tank, telling me, ‘This is will be easier for you to carry. Maybe you won’t drop it this time.’ I had to stop my boyfriend from punching him.)

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