(I decided to make a pair of dark green boxer shorts as a gift to one of our friends for Christmas. He mentions them to me four months later.)

Friend: “I love those boxers and have been wearing them every night, but they’ve turned my sheets green.”

Me: “The dye ran? That’s odd, because I used the same fabric to make [Husband] a pair and we haven’t had a problem with them. What have you used to wash them?”

Friend: “I haven’t washed them.”

Me: “You haven’t washed them in four months? What about your sheets?”

Friend: “No, was I supposed to?”

(I worked out right there why he was single.)

(I’m a broke college student living in central Florida where everything is overpriced due to the major theme parks here, on top of a great many other things. My friend texts me and my boyfriend one day.)

Friend: “Hey, want to go on a road trip? My boyfriend and I are thinking of going to the beach. It could be a double date!”

Me: “Oof, sorry. We don’t have any money to spare.”

Friend: “No! We won’t have to spend anything. We can bring food from home, and we’ll just make it a day trip, so no hotels! We can even carpool!

Me: “Let me check with [Boyfriend].”

(He says sure, as long as we aren’t staying overnight and aren’t planning on buying a bunch of junk food.)

Me: “Okay, we’re good. When would we go?”

Friend: “This Saturday.”

Me: “All right, great.”

(That weekend rolls around, and she texts us again.)

Friend: “When are y’all picking us up?”

Me: “Er, we figured you’d be driving.”

Friend: “No, we can’t pay for all that gas.”

(I want to strangle her, but at that point, we’ve already gotten ready, had another friend pick up our dog, and prepared our food, so we just let it go and pick them up. However…)

Friend: *at the trunk of our car* “There’s not enough space back here for our tent.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be bringing it, since it’s so nice outside, and it’s just the four of us.”

Friend: “Four? No, [Her Boyfriend]’s sister and her girlfriend are coming, too!”

Me: “Really? Okay.”

(It’s not. I’m seriously mad.)

Friend: “At least they said they aren’t bringing much. It should all fit at their feet.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Friend’s Boyfriend: *walking up to hear the last bit* “They were supposed to take the third row in your car. I thought that was why you offered?”

Me: “I didn’t offer, and I didn’t even know your sister was coming!”

(My friend’s boyfriend was livid. We did go on the trip, but it was tense. All SIX of us in one car, with a ton of stuff? No, thanks. No surprise, about a month later her boyfriend broke up with her because she pulled a similar stunt with his parents, making them pay for an expensive surprise party for him.)

(A friend and I have just gotten piercings. I have some already, so I suggest we get ibuprofen to handle the immediate swelling and pain. We go to our local pharmacy.)

Friend: “Which one do we need?”

Me: “One that has ibuprofen in it.”

Friend: “Ah.” *picks up the most expensive branded box*

Me: “Ugh, I’d rather go with the generic kind.” *picks up my own box*

Friend: “But look at it. It’ll probably kill you!”

Me: “They are literally the same. Yours is branded, though, so they charge extortionate prices.”

Friend: “No, this one is better.”

(I take his box and show him the ingredients on the back. By a stroke of luck, they are EXACTLY the same.)

Friend: *after spending a long time comparing* “Mine is still better!”

(I shrugged and we paid for our own painkillers. He paid £3.49, while I paid 39p.)

(I have a friend who loves designer handbags. Still, she would never buy such frivolous nonsense for herself, as she expects to be given expensive things by men. She once joined my husband and me on a holiday, which she mostly spent window shopping at every bag shop she encountered, wasting a lot of precious sightseeing time educating us on all her material wishes. A year after the catastrophic trip, my husband and I are abroad again. One day, he brings back a cheap, used counterfeit handbag from a flea market, proud to be the first man to ever buy my friend a bag of her favourite brand. We decide to have some fun, so I message her.)

Me: “[Husband] has bought a handbag for another woman today! Should I be worried?”

Friend: “Which handbag?”

Me: “Who cares?! Tell me your opinion; do you think it’s troublesome that he buys stuff for someone else than me?”

Friend: “Depends on the handbag.”

Me: “It is brown and quite ugly, and it smells strange. So, tell me, what is that bag saying about the state of our marriage?”

Friend: “Send a photo; I cannot judge the situation without seeing it first.”

(We pose for a selfie: my husband grinning and slapping his forehead, me with an overly dramatic, panicked expression.)

Friend: “Not of you! I need to see the handbag!”

(I send a badly-lit photo of the handbag in its plastic bag.)

Friend: “Take it out! It could be a [Brand Bag]!”

(I write a price tag, formerly 1600 Euro, now only 799, and place it on the unobscured handbag.)

Me: “Happy? Can we discuss the actual matter now?”

Friend: “It’s a [Brand Bag]! It’s the [Model]! Steal it from him!”

Me: “Really?”

Friend: “It’s sooo beautiful! He should have consulted me, though; usually it’s just 550 Euro.”

Me: “He must have thought that the woman is worth more.”

Friend: “She is really lucky! You should take it from him; then he can’t give it to her!”

Me: “What if [Husband] just buys another one? It wouldn’t solve any of my problems! Besides, it’s ugly and I don’t need a bag.”

Friend: “How can you say that?! I have always wanted this exact bag! It deserves to be loved and worshipped!”

Me: “So, do you want to know anything about the woman? I’m still waiting for your advice!”

Friend: “Sure.”

Me: “She has a strange desire for expensive things and can sometimes be incredibly slow. Who does this sound like?”

Friend: “Forget the other woman. You have to steal the bag from him immediately! And then you give it to me!”

Me: “How am I supposed to do that?”

Friend: “You wait until he is asleep, and then hide the bag. I’m going to meet you at the airport and make it disappear. What is he doing right now?”

Me: “He has been shaking his head since we started texting, and just muttered something about live reality TV and an exceptionally stupid person. Any ideas what that could mean?”

Friend: “See, he doesn’t even care about how you feel right now! Another sign that the bag should be mine!”

(The next morning:)

Me: “So, have you figured out who the materialistic woman the handbag is for could be?”

Friend: “No, but you are going to steal it for me today!”

(A couple of days later, we are back home and I meet my friend.)

Me: *handing her the wrapped bag* “Here, I stole the ugly thing for you.”

Friend: “Wow, really? I didn’t think you would actually dare to do that! Wonderful! Did [Husband] notice?”

Me: “Sure.”

Friend: “What did he say?!”

Me: “After he bought it, ‘I have got the perfect gift for [Friend]!’, and this morning, ‘How can [Friend] be so ignorant?’.”

Friend: “It was for me?! I’m so happy– Hey, wait, no! This bag is fake!”

(I’m not sure if that or the whole prank bothered her more. To this day, she has been waiting for a millionaire to magically appear and reward her with a luxurious life. My husband still refers to the incident as the best 8 Euro ever spent on entertainment. I now know who to never consult when I have relationship problems.)

(I’m out with friends at a low-key bar. One of my friends has brought her twin sister, who is super shy to the point where she has trouble talking to people. My friend is super tall, very muscular, and tomboyish; her twin sister is much shorter, not muscular at all, and very feminine. I notice a guy my friend has previously had trouble with and go to mention it to her so we can move.)

Me: “[Friend], [Guy] showed up. Let’s move to the game room.”

Friend: *sighing* “Yeah, why not.”

Sister: *confused* “Who?”

Friend: “The guy I told you about? Who called me a lesbian and tried to start a fight with me because I wouldn’t give him my number?”

(To my surprise, [Sister] immediately shoves her can of soda into my hand, runs at the guy, and starts tearing into this man who has at least a foot on her. My friend walks over to stand behind her. She somehow deescalates the situation and we all go inside, even though [Sister] is still obviously fuming. I offer to buy her a drink to calm her down, and her sister follows me to the bar.)

Me: “What the h*** was that?!”

Friend: “She’s very protective.”

Me: “So protective she was ready to f****** DIE?!’

Friend: “I guess!”

Me: “She’s lucky you were standing behind her and looking menacing! I wouldn’t wanna fight you!”

Friend: *frowning* “I wasn’t looking menacing, [My Name]. I was getting ready to grab her in case she decided to beat the s*** out of him. The last thing she needs is to get arrested for assault.”

(That was the night I learned that my friend’s sister had gotten into at least one other fist fight with someone harassing my friend and has a temper like a volcano. With the way my friend described it, I have no doubt that this tiny lady could kick the s*** out of anyone if she was angry enough. She’s a total sweetheart once she gets over her shyness, so I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around this.)