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Can’t Erase The Evidence

, , , , , | Friendly | June 26, 2017

(I have a guy friend who sits next to me in one of my classes. He jokingly steals pencils and erasers off my desk when I’m focused on something else. He does it so often that I’ve begun to reflexively grab his arm before he takes something.)

Friend: *reaches out*

Me: *grabs arm* “What’d you steal this time?”

Friend: *pulls his arm out of my grasp, takes my hand, and kisses it* “Your heart, milady.”

Me: “Nice try. Now give me back that eraser. I know it’s under your desk.”

Friend: “F***!”

(He’s still one of my best friends.)

Age Is But An Unfriendly Number

, , , , | Related | June 6, 2017

(I’m on the till. A woman who I went to primary school with twenty years earlier comes up with her daughter, aged about 8 or 9.)

School Friend: “Oh, hi, [My Name]! How are you?”

Me: “Hello, [School Friend]! I’m doing okay, thank you.”

(Her daughter is staring at my name badge.)

Daughter: “Hey, you’re not [My Name].”

School Friend: “No, he’s not Uncle [My Name]; he’s another [My Name] that I went to school with.”

Daughter: “Oh.”

School Friend: “It’s like how you’re in the same class as [Male Name #1] and [Male Name #2]. [My Name] and I were in the same class when we were your age.”

Me: “It was 20-odd years ago.”

Daughter: *pause* “Why aren’t you friends any more?”

(Both School Friend and I are taken slightly aback by this.)

School Friend: “Well, we, um…”

Me: “After primary school your mum went to the girls’ school and I went to the boys’ school.”

Daughter: *genuinely puzzled* “But you’re old!”

(We tried explaining again, but she was having a bit of trouble grasping that her mum was once her age and going to school with boys!)

Deathly Silent

, , , | Learning | May 30, 2017

(As I live about an hour and a half away from my school, I travel there and back by the school’s bus service. Travelling with me are three girls below my year and five girls in my year. Since we spend so much time together on the bus and our school bans us from using or bringing smartphones, we all talk to each other. Today, I’m not really feeling like talking so I just read a book while my friend talks to me whilst drinking water. Suddenly, she starts choking.)

Friend: *dramatically, in the middle of her coughs* “I’m dying.”

Me: *without looking up from my book* “Can you die a little quieter, please? I’m trying to read.”

(My friend suddenly stops coughing.)

Friend: *indignantly* “Excuse me, [My Name], I can die as loudly as I want!”

Friends At A Funeral

, , , , | Friendly | May 29, 2017

My mother died the year after I finished high school. When the funeral service was over, I turned to see all my closest friends there — including one high school friend that had moved 800 km away. At the time I assumed she’d gotten time off from her job as I knew she’d gotten an apprenticeship.

I found out later that her boss had refused to give her the time off. So she quit her job and jumped on the first train she could to come and be with my family and me. She set her career back an entire year.

I love my friends.

Making A Ballsy First Impression

, , , , , , | Friendly | May 19, 2017

I’ve recently joined a niche community that collects ABJDS (Asian ball-jointed dolls) and have gotten my very first doll as a wedding gift from my husband. Excited, I decide to arrange something called a “Doll Meet” where local people in the community get together, talk shop, trade, and just generally have a fun time together, playing and dressing up our dolls. I put out an open invite and get a few responses from people I’ve met previously who are happy to come over, including one friend who, while not in the hobby, is always happy to meet new people. I’ve known her for years and we constantly mess with each other.

Most everyone has arrived, except for my long time friend and, when the doorbell rings, I assume it’s her. I open the door, shout, “Go away!”, and slam the door shut, as I often do with her.

Only, as the door’s falling shut, I realize it’s not my friend, but a girl I hadn’t yet met who’d asked to join the party.

Horrified, I yank the door open, apologizing profusely. She’s confused, but luckily has a good sense of humor and was able to laugh it off and we’ve been friends ever since.

My friend who likes to mess with me thought it was hysterical.


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