(I live on the second floor of the dorms. I usually take the stairs, but on this particular day, I’m carrying my suitcase. Another girl gets in the elevator with me and presses the button for the fifth floor. She stands directly in front of the buttons.)

Me: “Can you please hit two?”

Girl: “Ugh, why can’t you walk up the stairs?”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m carrying something.”

Girl: “Seriously, that doesn’t even look heavy. Just take the stairs!”

Me: “My hands would be full and I couldn’t hold the railing, not that it’s really any of your business. Besides, in the time it took you to argue your point, we could both be in our own rooms. Please hit two.”

Girl: “You’re being so ridiculous! It’s one flight of stairs!”

Me: “With my hands full, I really couldn’t.” *I bend down and roll up my pant leg a little past my ankle to show my artificial leg* “It’s been about a year now, but I still have a little trouble with stairs when I’m carrying stuff.”

Girl: *goes pale*

Me: “So, can you f****** hit two now?!”

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(My roommates live in a four person quad room. They kept me up at three am with their chatter, and I am woken up at nine am on a weekend by the sound of them watching TV in the same room I’m sleeping in. I have just groggily stepped out of the bathroom.)

Roommate: “Sorry if I woke you up!”

Me: *trying to be polite* “That’s all right. I usually get up at this time—”

Roommate: “I hope I didn’t call you too early!”

(I put on my glasses and realize that she is on the phone.)

(I am discussing technology needs with my very computer illiterate roommate, back in 2006.)

Me: “Okay, so do you have Windows 98 or Windows XP?”

Roommate: “Um… it’s a Dell…”

Me: “Yeah… with 98 or XP?”

Roommate: “….”

Me: “Is your Start bar blue or grey?!”

(I am attending a small dorm gathering with a group of friends.)

Friend: “Hey, you guys want some soda?”

Me: *as well as others* “Um… sure.”

Friend: “All right, I’ll get us some soda!”

(One hour later.)

Friend: “Hey, guys. Sorry, I would’ve been back sooner, but I got pulled over.”

Me: “Speeding?”

Friend: “Yeah, I was kinda doing an 80 in a 45.”

Me: “I don’t think there’s a kinda there; either you were or you weren’t. Did you get a ticket?”

Friend: “Yep! $100.”

Me: “We didn’t need the soda THAT badly! Drink up everyone, this stuff cost over $100!”

Hippie Friend: “[My Name], do you have any hair gel?”

Me: “Yeah… Why, you need some?”

Hippie Friend: “Yes… Question, how does one use hair gel?”

Me: “Are you kidding me? What, do you just roll out of bed everyday like that?”

Hippie Friend: “… Yes.”

Me: *sighs* “Just put some on your comb and comb it into your hair.”

Hippie Friend: “Do you have a comb?”