Extraterrestrials Need Love, Too

, , , , | Romantic | August 14, 2018

(My best friend has a huge crush on me, and I have one on him, though neither of us realize it at this time. Although his English is very good, he’s not a native speaker, and there are some words he’s understandably never encountered before. We’re both fans of old video games, so we’re checking out some old ATARI games at my house. We’ve loaded up E.T., having never actually played it before. There are no instructions, but apparently one of the core mechanics is that E.T. can “fly” by lifting his head. I’m watching the game being played.)

Friend: *having difficulty getting E.T. out of a pit* “ARGH! He’s not necking anymore!”

(I lost it and had to explain to my very confused friend what “necking” was and why E.T. wasn’t doing it. Thankfully, it didn’t stop him from officially asking me out a few days later.)

Dropping An Awkward Bomb

, , , , , | Friendly | August 14, 2018

(A coworker told me this story. They have friends over from Germany who were born in the 50s. My coworker shows them around the city of Rotterdam. While they love the city, they keep on comparing it to other cities. The text below is the latest of a string of complaints about the historic center of Rotterdam. My coworker is getting fed up with it.)

Friend: “I went to Utrecht and saw the lovely old center. And Amsterdam, oh, that too had a lovely historic center. But Rotterdam… Rotterdam has no historic buildings at all! Such a shame; why don’t you have a historic center like the other towns? It’s all so modern. I thought Rotterdam had such a rich history, but all the historic buildings are gone! Such a shame. Why is that?”

Coworker: “Because you guys bombed it!”

(There was an awkward silence, and the friend no longer mentioned it. Later on, the friend apologized, having learned that most of Rotterdam was bombed during the beginning of World War Two. Even though the friend wasn’t born back then, she did understand why my coworker didn’t appreciate the comments about the lack of a historical center from a German person. They are still friends to this day.)

Playing A Game Of Jesus Tag

, , , , , , | Friendly | August 12, 2018

(I go to boarding school. I am visiting my roommate and her family for two weeks. I know that her parents are Christians, while I’m not myself. I haven’t told them that I’m not religious, as I’ve seen them be rude to others who aren’t religious, but other than that they are really nice. One day my roommate lets it slip that I’m an atheist. It does not go well.)

Friend’s Mom: “What? You’re not Christian? How can you not be?”

(I’m not quite sure what to say. I only know two people back home who are religious; one is a Christian and one is a Muslim.)

Me: “Well… I just don’t believe in a god or whatever.”

Friend’s Mom: “Have you not seen all the wonders in the world? How can you not believe in God?”

Me: “Uh… Well… I don’t believe in it because I’ve never really seen any wonders, I guess?”

(I just wanted this to be over with… I was not asking for her to defend her belief, so I didn’t see why I should have to defend mine. After a while we agreed to disagree, and she said she’d respect me, and my beliefs, if I respected hers. I thought that was it. A couple of weeks later, I was back home and suddenly got a Facebook notification. My friend’s mom had tagged me in something. I logged in and there was a picture saying how everyone is God’s children, and how everyone is really a Christian, even if they don’t know it. I decided not to react, as I didn’t want to start anything. A couple of days later I was tagged, yet again, in something. When I logged in there was a video — ten minutes long! — explaining why Christianity was the only true belief in the world. I got annoyed, and sent her a private message asking her to please stop tagging me. A day later, I was tagged yet again in one of those videos. At the same time, I was talking with my roommate, and I mentioned it to her. She said she’d talk to them. However, a couple of hours later I was tagged yet again! Seeing as how she had told me she would respect my beliefs, I was annoyed. I responded to her, in the Facebook post, that we had talked about this and if she didn’t respect my beliefs, then I wouldn’t respect hers. I also asked her, in the comment, to please stop tagging me. She did stop, but we have never again spoken. My roommate said she couldn’t believe her mom’s behavior. The funny thing is, my roommate is an atheist herself, but doesn’t dare to tell her mother that after seeing how her mom treated me.)

Already Has A Big Baby To Look After

, , , , , | Friendly | August 11, 2018

(I’m chatting on the phone with a friend. I recently told her I was pregnant.)

Friend: “So, how far along are you now?”

Me: “Uh, about 26 weeks.”

Friend: *in a disgusted tone* “Ew, no. Don’t do that. Don’t go by weeks. Go by months. Gross.”

Me: “Developmentally, there’s a difference. My doctor and my tracker app say 26 weeks, so I’ve been going by that.”

Friend: “Ew. That’s just too much. Months. How many months are you?”

Me: *internally sighing* “Well, if you can’t do the math, six and a half months. “

Friend: “That’s better. So, when you have your baby, I was planning to take the next day or two off from work and come over and hang out, and stay the night. But I’m not changing any diapers or nothing. So don’t ask.”

Me: *looking for a polite way to tell her no* “Um, I’ll probably be in the hospital for a couple of days.”

Friend: “So? I can sleep in your hospital room.”

Me: “Well, it’s just that we all know how you feel about hospitals. I wouldn’t think you’d be very comfortable.”

Friend: “Huh. Good point. I can just stay at your apartment, then. You’ll have to send me your address, though. I don’t know how to get there. Ooh, and I’ll need a copy of your key. And I’ll make you a copy of mine, so we can hang out whenever, and since you’ll have a baby, you won’t have to get up to answer the door or let me in or whatever.”

Me: *not having the energy for this* “Well, we’re doing some renovations right now, so we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

(When I hang up, I make a mental note not to tell her when I go into labor. We meet up for a girl’s night at her place three weeks later. Unfortunately, I go into labor in the middle of the night, and end up slipping out during the wee hours of the morning to go to the hospital. She blows up my phone all day, wanting to know what’s happening, did I give birth yet, is it “real labor,” etc. I don’t respond until dinnertime, and when I do, it’s just to get her to stop calling and texting so I can rest. I simply text her:)

Me: “Yes, they were contractions. I need to rest.”

(She then tells me she’s at the hospital, in the parking lot, and starts bugging me for my room number, whining that she wants to see the baby. Out of patience, I respond:)

Me: “I was just in labor for twelve hours. My baby is in intensive care, covered in wires and lines. I am exhausted. I’m not feeling social, and I don’t want visitors. Nor is my baby having any visitors because she has little to no immune system. Go home. We’ll talk later.”

(She finally did, but that night, I saw she had posted about becoming an aunt, my child being born two months early — even though it was closer to three, but remember, she believes in months, not weeks, and as far as she cares, I was seven months — while tagging me in said post, along with an ultrasound picture. She did this even though my husband and I had never “announced” that we were expecting, nor had either of us said anything publicly about the birth or pregnancy. I immediately told her to take the post down, as my husband and I fully planned NOT to plaster our daughter all over social media. She removed the post without responding, and the next morning asked what the f*** I was talking about, as she had no recollection of posting anything of the sort. Over the course of the next couple weeks, I ended up ignoring her begging to see the baby, wanting me to send her pictures, etc. She also didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of an eleven-week premature baby in the NICU, and continually asked if she was still in NICU, and, “When the f*** is she going home?” This friendship may need to go on the back burner for a while. Is it really any wonder that I didn’t tell her I was even pregnant until I was already 21 weeks? Whoops, I mean five months.)

Unless You’re Aragorn, Anyway

, , , , , , , | Friendly | August 3, 2018

(I play Dungeons and Dragons in a bar with some friends once a week. This particular session we are trying to figure out if there is still some damaging magic left in a room. We’ve just teamed up temporarily with some “bad guys,” one of whom is a goblin. My character is a dwarf. While the other players are discussing how to test the room…)

Me: “I pick up a goblin and throw him into the room.”

(Yes, I tossed a goblin. Because I am a dwarf, and nobody tosses a dwarf.)

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