(I’m a man, and my female friend from California is visiting me in Maryland for the weekend before her next semester of college starts. We’re going to tour DC with my girlfriend. Her first morning after her flight, we’ve woken up, and I come out of the shower to find her still sitting on my futon.)

Friend: “Um… Hey. Can I ask you a stupid question?”

Me: “Sure.”

Friend: “…”

Me: “Go on.”

Friend: *chuckles* “Do you have any pads?”

Me: “No, I’m afraid I don’t have much of a need to stock feminine hygiene products. Did you forget to pack some?”

Friend: *sheepishly* “Yes.”

Me: “There is a supermarket nearby; I’d be happy to walk down and buy some.”

Friend: “No, no, I don’t want to have to make you do that.”

Me: “Well… [Girlfriend] should be here in about an hour; I can ask her to bring some.”

(She agrees, and I text my girlfriend about the problem. She finds the situation amusing and agrees to bring some pads for my friend. Unfortunately, my girlfriend is delayed, but my friend insists that she doesn’t want to burden me with a five-minute walk to the store, so she sits on my bed watching a movie in her PJs for two hours until my girlfriend arrives. I introduce them to each other.)

Girlfriend: *fishes a selection of pads out of her purse* “Um… Here?”

Friend: *hugs her* “Yes! You’re a lifesaver!”

Me: “No, she’s a pantysaver.”

(I do tech support for an international company. I am working when suddenly my private phone starts ringing.)

Me: “Hello? This is [My Name].”

Friend: “Hi, [My Name], this is [Friend]. I am having a problem with my computer.”

Me: “Okay. What is the problem?”

Friend: “I just created a movie file with a movie maker program, and now I am unable to find it.”

Me: “Okay, I will take a look at it.”

(I remotely connect to her computer and start checking the default directories of the movie maker program and the default locations of the movie library. I find nothing.)

Me: “Do you know what the file was named?”

Friend: “‘The Journal.’”

(I start to search via search functions into the directory; nothing comes up.)

Me: “I am sorry, but I am unable to find it.”

(I can hear her voice shaking.)

Friend: “No! It is not possible. I’ve been working on it for almost on hour. And now it is gone? I am going to have to remake it, then.”

(Since this is an easy task for me to do, I think I can make it faster than she can. I ask about where the original files were located.)

Me: “Could you take me through the steps of how you created the file? Starting with the location of the original files.”

(She goes to the directory where the files are located. Once there:)

Friend: “Oh! There is my file!”

Me: “I thought the file was named, ‘The Journal,’ not, ‘The News’?”

Friend: “It is almost the same. Thank you for the assistance!”

(I’m with a few friends, hanging out at one of their houses. This friend lives near a couple of freshwater lakes. We’re out walking around the neighborhood near one of the lakes. I see a set of eyes pop out of the water at the other end of the lake.)

Me: “What’s that?” *points in the direction of the eyes*

Friend #1: “Where? I don’t see anything.”

Friend #2: “Oh, don’t worry. There’s no gators around here.”

(The eyes start slowly moving closer. I see an alligator snout pop out of the water.)

Me: “Y’all don’t see that?“

Friend #1: “Oh, now I see it. Huh. I guess there is a gator around here. Don’t worry. It’s not moving very fast.”

Me: “That’s because it’s stalking its prey. And I’m pretty sure that we are its prey!”

Friend #2: “I don’t think so.”

(I glance over and the eyes and snout have edged closer. I start jogging away.)

Friend #2: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I grew up around here. I learned about what to do in case of a gator. I don’t have to outrun it. I just have to outrun both of you.”

(My friends looked at each other, then at the gator, and started jogging toward me.)

(One of my best friends growing up had never been on a plane or been out of the country. He grew up on a large Midwestern farm, and was always too busy helping his family to travel more than a few hours away. Of course there’s nothing wrong with that, but I knew he wished he could visit new places one day. After college I moved away to another state, but we still talked often on the phone and online. He called earlier this year to tell me he was going out of the country for the first time; his family had been invited to a destination wedding in the Caribbean. He was really excited, and had already submitted his application for his first ever passport. I told him to have fun and take plenty of pictures. The date of the wedding comes and goes, and about a week later I get another call.)

Friend: “Hey, [My Name]. It’s [Friend].”

Me: “Hey! How was the wedding? Did you have a great time?”

Friend: “Yeah, well, the wedding was fun, and it was cool seeing the beaches. But you won’t believe what happened on the way back.”

Me: “Oh, no… Did something happen with your flight?”

Friend: “Not exactly. I found out when we were trying to reenter the US that my brand-new passport number is exactly one digit different from the passport of a guy who is wanted in more than one country.”

Me: “What?!”

Friend: “Yeah. I got to spend six hours in TSA holding while they figured out if I was this guy or not.”

Me: “Did you kind of look like this guy, too, or something? Is that why it took so long?”

Friend: “Not even a little.”

(For some additional perspective, my friend is a 25-year-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed farmer, and he was eventually told that the wanted man with the similar passport number was in his 40s, with dark hair and brown eyes, and was wanted in some kind of “white collar” criminal case.)

Me: “I’m so sorry that happened! Can you get a new passport number?”

Friend: “I haven’t checked yet, but I don’t think I’m going to be going anywhere else for a while.”

(I thought about it later. What are the odds that this could happen to someone on their first trip to another country, with a brand new passport? I don’t know yet if he’s allowed to apply for a new passport number, but I would think this would be a case where the Department of State could make an exception.)

(I recently adopted a new cat. He’s quite unusual. This leads to me having this scenario, I don’t know how many times, with just about anyone coming in my home. As I welcome my visitors — could be friends, family, coworkers, anyone — I warn them right at the door.)

Me: “I got a new cat, Sugar. He’s a little spooky, but please try to not be scared; as it is, he’ll be more afraid of you than you can be of him.”

Friend: “Of course. No problem; it’s just a cat. Is he missing an eye or something?”

Me: “No… You see, he’s a little, round, fluffy ball of black fur.”

Friend: “Oh, no worries. I’m not superstitious or anything.”

Me: “Yeah… That’s not all. He has orange eyes.”

Friend: “Oh, so unique! Must be charming!”

Me: “Yes, he is! Actually, his appearance pushed him to be rejected by people, but really, he just wants to love people, if only they would give him the chance to be loved back. He’s a little shy at the moment, but if you stay calm, he’ll purr like crazy and even will try to lick you.”

Friend: “Aww, so cute.”

(Some time passes, and as we are having a cup of tea in the living room, the cat shows up and curiously but cautiously approaches. I don’t want him to sneak up on people, as he’s already surprising in himself, so I announce him.)

Me: “Hey, [Friend], he’s coming out. Say, ‘hi,’ to Sugar!”

(My friend is smiling as he turns to look… until the orange glow of eyes on a round shaped shadow slowly moving toward us is seen, then he SWEARS AND JUMPS on the seat. Sugar, scared by the screaming human, runs for his life, hiding in another room.)

Me: “Yeah, I did my best to warn you…”

(Most people feel like fools for reacting in such a way and excuse themselves. Also, second meetings with Sugar go much better. They get to see him for what he is: a scary but sweet little fluff-ball of love.)