(I am sat next to my male colleague, who I’m quite good friends with. I’m female and have recently realised I’m bi. I am complaining to him about my new discovery that I am terrible at chatting up women, when I realise that he has a girlfriend and ask him for tips. Note that we’re both lawyers. We chat for a bit about what he used to do and then…)

Colleague: “I think now… Okay, so, I guess if it was now, you’d want to just talk to her. And then you agree that it’s exclusive, so you know the terms you stand on.”

Me: “Are you suggesting I make her sign an exclusivity agreement?”

Colleague: “Bring it on the first date.”

Me: “That’ll go down well.”

Colleague: “Make sure you include all the relevant warranties.”

Me: “To the best of my knowledge and belief, I am not dating anyone else?”

Colleague: “Schedule five contains a list of all former relationships.”

Me: “A list of all ex-lovers who might want to kill me.”

Colleague: “Let’s go for material relationships; that’ll do it.”

Me: “Do I stick indemnities in there, as well? Like, in the event of a break up, you will indemnify me for the cost of all gifts over a certain amount?”

Colleague: “Couldn’t hurt. You see, this will be very romantic.”

Me: “Yup. Do we have to give notice to terminate?”

Colleague: “No, we’ll go for at-will.”

Me: “Very American. Also sensible.”

Colleague: “Oh, but in the event of a material breach…”

Me: “You have to remedy within ten days?”

Colleague: “Yes!”

Me: “You know, when I asked you for help, I wasn’t expecting you to advise I bring a 100-page legal document with me.”

Colleague: “Well, it could just be heads of terms. So, not binding.”

Me: “Like a lesser version of a prenup?”

Colleague: “If you keep adding terms, though, you know what it’ll be?”

Me: “…what?”

Colleague: “A relationship agreement!”

Me: “…”

Colleague: “What?”

Me: “That’s terrible.”

Colleague: “It’s true, though. It’s an agreement that governs the relationship between two parties. A relationship agreement!”

Me: “This is the last time I ask you for advice on dating.”

(For the record, the other lawyers sitting around us slowly edged away during this conversation…)

Related:

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 15

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 14

Dating Sheldon Cooper, Part 13

(I work in a web development company. My boss is generally a smart man, but oblivious. I am one of the most qualified techs he’s got, and I also work as a project manager. I am also his only female tech. We are on a video call with a somewhat unhappy client. We have been missing pages and building stuff wrong, but according to my documentation, we are doing what we should. I have been apologising to the client all morning.)

Boss: “Well, you will really have to make up for the lost time. What is it this time?”

Me: “A page I didn’t know we needed.”

Boss: “Why not?!”

Client: “It’s right there, on page 10!”

Me: “I’m looking at page 10, and there is nothing.”

(We are talking about a wireframe.)

Client: “Your secretary can’t read, [Boss].”

Me: “I am not a secretary, and I don’t think we are looking at the same document.”

([Boss] starts looking real shifty, and runs off to fetch his laptop. He brings it to me and shows me the document he has, on page 10, with the necessary info, and all the other stuff we have been getting wrong. Wanting to save face, I assure the client it will not happen again. He thanks me for my effort, looking a little sheepish at his mistake about my position, and I turn to my boss.)

Me: “Why didn’t you give me that document? This is twice as long as the one you gave me!”

Boss: “Well, I assumed you could figure it out.”

Me: “Without the brief?”

Boss: “I just assumed you’d have it! Now, go and fix your mistakes.”

(I am a 19-year-old female living with my girlfriend. My girlfriend has anxiety and can’t stand it when a man comes near her. Recently, my girlfriend got sick and was hospitalized. To celebrate her recovery and her arrival home, we order pizza. When the pizza arrives, I am on the phone with my dad asking him to bring something for tomorrow.)

Me: “Babe, can you get the door? I’m on the phone.”

(As she goes to the door, she sees it’s a guy. She whimpers and runs back into the kitchen where I’m standing.)

Girlfriend: “[My Name], it’s a man. I can’t do this.”

Me: “It’s okay, babe. I got it.”

(I hang up and go to answer the door. The delivery guy is short, baby-faced, and looks like he’s just started his first year of university. As soon as he sets his gaze on me, I see the wheels in his head start turning.)

Delivery Guy: “Took you long enough!”

Me: “I’m very sorry. I was on the phone.”

Delivery Guy: “I guess I could let it slide if I could… sit in and eat this with you? You’re my last delivery for the night.”

(He smirks and I roll my eyes.)

Me: “No, thank you. I’m good. How much will it be, then?

Delivery Guy: *holding my pizza away from me* “Aw, come on! You are smoking! It’s free if I can get your number and a kiss.” *winks*

(I am so over this guy. I start digging through my wallet and pull out enough to cover it.)

Me: “I’m really not interested.”

Delivery Guy: “Aww. Well, then, maybe just your number? Come on, sweetie. I can show you a good time!”

(He hands me my pizza. I roll my eyes.)

Me: “Look, I’m just trying to have a nice night in with my girlfriend. Here’s your money.”

(His eyes are as big as saucers as he realizes his mistake.)

Delivery Guy: “Eww! I just hit on a [slur]!”

(He then took off running down the hall… without his money. Hey, horny delivery boy, thanks for the free pizza!)

(My officemate and I are known for constantly taking the mick out of each other, with each of us on separate occasions remarking that if one of us were nice to the other, it would be too weird to handle. I come in on Monday morning.)

Officemate: “Morning.”

Me: “Morning.”

(I walk over to our office swear jar and put £1 in.)

Officemate: “Expecting a bad day at work?”

Me: “Eh. [Girlfriend] broke up with me yesterday so, I figure, best accept that I’m going to be in a bad mood now.”

Officemate: “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

Me: “Yeah, well. At least I can swear as much as I want today and someone will get some good out of it. How was your weekend?”

(We chat a little bit, including once or twice about whether I think the ex-girlfriend and I might get back together. I make some effort to make a few jokes so as not to make the atmosphere too weird and we chat more generally about other things. I eat lunch with another colleague and come back in afterwards. There’s a bottle of orange juice on my desk.)

Me: “Huh? Where did this come from?”

Officemate: “Well, I was gonna get you chocolate but I’ve never heard you talk about what type you like. But I have heard you mention your orange juice addiction so I thought it might help cheer you up, since you’re having such a rotten day.

Me: “That’s incredibly sweet of you.”

(My office mate sort of blushed and waved his hand at me. Normal service resumed later that afternoon.)

(I’m a shift supervisor on break with someone, tending to a swollen ankle.)

Colleague: “You’re a doctor, though, aren’t you [My Name]?”

Me: “I wouldn’t be here if I was; I’m a first aider.”

Colleague: “Which means you know medical stuff right?”

Me: *deadpan* “It means I know enough that a patient has a higher chance of staying alive until paramedics arrive.”

Colleague: “Whoa, that’s rather…”

Me: “Cynical?”

Colleague: “…yeah.”