(My boyfriend and I are walking around the mall. We stop at a necklace kiosk. He has never had any intimate experience and has never seen a woman naked in person before.)

Me: *pointing to a gaudy chain necklace with a giant leopard pendant* “I kind of like that. I could see myself wearing it.”

Boyfriend: *laughs* “Me too.”

Me: *as we are walking away* “…wearing only that.”

Boyfriend: *stops dead in the middle of the hallway and stares forward*

Me: “Honey?” *waves hand in front of face*

Boyfriend: *grinning hugely at me* “Sorry. That was the first time I ever imagined you naked.”

Me: *laughs* “So you had to stop walking?”

Boyfriend: “Did I stop? My brain just kind of fizzled out… I couldn’t think of anything else.”

(We are now married and he still gets the same look of awe every time we do anything that involves less clothing!)

(It’s back to school sale season and certain store that sells items one put in their bed or bath room has their dorm stuff out. One dorm set has generic famous images of NY, Paris, and London printed on them. The London one has a red phone booth on it. Note: my mother grew up with Doctor Who and I am not a fan of it but am a geek so I know some general stuff about it.)

Mom: “Oh, hey, look. That one has the, uh, whatcha call it, the Tardis on it.”

Me: “Mom, the Tardis is blue. That phone booth is red. It’s just a regular phone booth.”

Mom: “Oh…”

Me: “Heh, and I never really watched that show. Didn’t you use to watch that?”

Mom: “It’s been a long day and… don’t sass me. I’m your mother. Also, I have the car keys.”

(My friend and I are at the food court of the mall to grab some lunch when a woman in a stroller starts going past. Her young son is clutching a kid’s meal when it slips from his hand and falls out of the stroller.)

Boy: “Mooom! Mom! Stop, Mommy!”

(He is frantically trying to grab the meal but it is out of his reach as his mom keeps going.)

Me: “Excuse me, miss?”

Woman: *blatantly ignores me and her son, who is still yelling*

Me: “Ma’am! Please STOP!”

Woman: *whirls around looking annoyed* “What?!”

Me: “Your son dropped his kid’s meal!”

(I reach down to pick it up but my hair clip falls out and smacks me painfully in the eye, making me recoil. Another man picks it up, seeing my trouble, and hands it to the mother.)

Man: “Didn’t you hear your son yelling for you?”

Woman: *snatching the meal and shoving it into her son’s hands* “I thought he just wanted my attention!”

Me: *holding my eye and trying to disentangle my rogue hair clip* “He was trying to get your attention, to tell you he dropped his kid’s meal—”

Woman: *ignores me and walks off in a huff, not thanking the man*

Friend: “Well, you did the right thing. I’m sure she would have been a lot more pissed finding out later! Those kid’s meals are expensive!”

(I have a seizure disorder. I have a service dog and wear a medical alert bracelet. When I use public restrooms, I tend to use the handicapped stalls. After doing some shopping, I walk into a busy bathroom. I start walking to the stall when a janitor emptying the trash steps in front of me.)

Janitor: “Where do you think you’re going? That stall is for handicapped people only.”

Me: “Oh, I have a seizure disorder. Here’s my medical bracelet, see?”

(The janitor looks less than impressed.)

Me: “And this is my service dog.”

Janitor: “You can walk just fine. You can use a regular stall.”

Me: “‘Handicapped’ doesn’t just mean an inability to walk.”

Janitor: “You are not allowed to use this stall. It’s the law.”

Me: “Seriously? There’s no such law. I have a legitimate reason to use this stall.”

Janitor: “Listen. You are not going to steal this stall from these ladies! So pipe down your attitude! You aren’t anything special! You and that ridiculous mohawk of yours can go in that smaller stall, missy!”

Me: “The last time I was in a regular stall, I had a seizure. I fell and hurt myself. The stall was so constricted that I hit my head on the walls and toilet. My doctor wants me to be safe.”

Janitor: “You expect me to believe that?”

Me: *turning my head, revealing a long, thick purple scar running under my spiked hair* “This stupid mohawk is a result of the 70 stitches I had to get after cracking my skull open on the side of a toilet! I had no way of avoiding everything in that constricted space when I fell so I hurt myself and a janitor had to pull me out, unconscious. Now, if you could let me access the stall with more floor space and more room for me to avoid head injuries and a lawsuit, I’d appreciate it!”

(The janitor turned pale while the line behind me erupted in a chorus of “Ooooohhhhh”s. Apparently, a woman at the end of the line alerted another nearby janitor to the incident, so when I left the bathroom, I was told to wait by the employee main office. The head janitor offered his apology and granted me a gift card to the mall and a treat for my service dog!)

This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

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(Since a friend is getting married soon, my boyfriend and I have been talking about our own future engagement possibilities.)

Me: “I don’t want a diamond ring.”

Boyfriend: “I know. You want a TARDIS ring.”

Me: “Or a sonic screwdriver ring.”

Boyfriend: “Well, I don’t have to worry any time soon, anyway. I have a few years.”

Me: “Oh, really?”

Boyfriend: “Yes. All I have to do is yell ‘pregnancy’ at you?”

Me: “Uh…”

Boyfriend: “You’re so afraid of pregnancy and after we get married, everyone will expect us to have children. PREGNANCY! PREGNANCY! PREGNANCY! There, that should give me about six years.”