(My cousin is coming over from Ireland for a few days. He messages me before he takes off. About five hours later he calls me. I have worried for a while at this point, because it shouldn’t have taken him so long.)

Cousin: “Hey, I’m at… St. Pancras.”

Me: “St. Pancras? As in London?”

Cousin: “Yeah. Where do I go?”

Me: “Mate, I’m in Edinburgh.”

Cousin: “Cool, when will you get here?”

Me: “It’s, like, eight hours away.”

Cousin: “Aww, am I going to have to wait here for eight hours?”

(I ended up buying him a flight from London to Edinburgh, and literally had to talk him through everything right up to getting on the plane. It turns out he flew to Gatwick Airport and took the train to St. Pancras. He had no idea where Edinburgh was, but since it was a capital city, he assumed it would be in London. I’ve decided to visit him, instead, from now on.)

(My flatmate and I spend the winter holidays with our respective families, and post gifts to one another for Christmas. I receive a pair of socks as part of my gift, and bring them back to university with me. The first time I wear the socks, this conversation happens.)

Flatmate: “Oh, love your socks. Those are so cute!”

Me: *playing along* “Absolutely. Someone very clever and fashionable gave me them for Christmas!”

(The second time I wear the socks…)

Flatmate: “Seriously, I love those. What is that animal on them? Squirrels? They’re so nice!”

Me: “Yeah, thank you. They are great socks.”

(And again…)

Friend: “Those socks are still great. You have good taste!”

Me: “You do remember you gave me these for Christmas, right?”

Flatmate: “Wait… I did?!”

(I am about to have a vasectomy, under a local anaesthetic. The female surgeon and I having been making general chat, and she now approaches with the needle to inject me with the anaesthetic.)

Me: “No jokes about ‘just a little prick’?”

Surgeon: “I’m not allowed to… anymore.”

(It’s the first day back at university after winter break. I’m in a class of fourth-year students doing a history course on the American Civil War.)

Lecturer: “Welcome back, everyone. I hope you had a good break. Now, everyone knows what day it was yesterday, right?”

Classmate: *immediately and enthusiastically* “Pitbull’s birthday!”

(It was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.)

(I sell tickets at a kiosk in front of a recently-opened art exhibition in the museum. A couple comes in, and they each have one arm wrapped around the other’s waists.)

Man: “Do we have to pay to see the exhibition?”

Me: “Yes, sir. While the rest of the museum is free, this is a special exhibition that is on loan. It’s £9 per person, or £7 if you qualify for a discount.”

(While grumbling about the cost, the couple detangles from one another, both searching their pockets for money. Eventually they hand me a £20 note.)

Me: *hands them back change and tickets* “Your change is £2, and here are your tickets. Enjoy the exhibition!”

(They put their arms back around each other, and I think nothing of it until they walk past me to look at a painting on the opposite wall. To my horror, I realize that they are, in fact, not holding on to each other’s waists, but instead both of them have their entire hands shoved down not only their partner’s trousers, but also their underwear, and are caressing each other’s bare buttocks. Just as I begin to desperately search for hand sanitizer without touching anything…)

Woman: “Excuse me? Can you throw this away for me?”

(She removes her hand from her partner’s underpants, fishes a used tissue from her pocket, and drops it on my desk before putting her hand back down his boxers.)

Me: *dies on the inside*