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A Tall Story

| Romantic | August 13, 2012

(I am at a nightclub with my boyfriend and his friends. Due to an argument, we spend our time avoiding each other. I am walking aimlessly around the club when I literally run into a very tall stranger.)

Me: *to the tall stranger* “Sorry… whoa, you’re tall!”

(I am myself a 6-ft-tall girl, so it’s not very often that I get to say this. I get stuck talking with the tall stranger, who then turns out to be a friend of one of my classmates from high school. We find this out when said classmate suddenly pops up out of nowhere, greets us both, and then asks how do we know each other.)

Me & Tall Stranger: “We don’t. We just met.”

(After chatting with them for a while, I go to look for my soon-to-be ex, only to find out that he has ditched me in the club and left, meaning that I don’t have a ride home anymore.)

Me: *to my old classmate* “Where did [tall stranger] go?”

Classmate: “He left already.”

Me: *fuming* “D***. Well, give me his number.”

(During our conversation, I find out that the tall stranger lives nearby. I text him, asking if I can crash in his place for the night. After receiving an agreeing, though a bit hesitant reply, I walk over to his place.)

Tall Stranger: “Oh, it’s you. You didn’t put your name on the message, so I had no idea who I just allowed to come over to my place.”

Me: *laughing* “Yet, you still said yes?”

Tall Stranger: *grinning* “Well, I figured it had to be some girl, so….”

(He makes a bed for me in his, and is prepared to sleep on the floor himself. I invite him to share the bed, but he is the perfect gentleman. He makes no moves on me during the night. The next week, I break up with my boyfriend, and although the tall stranger and I did not end up dating until a few years later, today we live together and are engaged. When people ask how we met each other, he likes to joke: ‘Well, she followed me home, so I figured I had to keep her!’)

A Boys’ Night (Not) Out

| Right | September 15, 2011

(I’m walking into a gay club opening in the city. I hear this exchange between a bouncer and an obviously straight guy standing outside.)

Guy: “So, what kind of club is this, man?”

Bouncer: “Um, you into chicks?”

Guy: “Huh?”

Bouncer: “Are you into women?”

Guy: “Yeah, man. Yeah.”

Bouncer: “This is not the place for you, then.”

Guy: “Oh…OH!” *runs into parking lot*

No ID, No Idea, Part 8

| Right | June 20, 2011

(I work security at a nightclub.)

Me: “ID, please.”

(I look at the customer’s ID.)

Me: “Sir, are you sure you want to use this ID?”

Customer: “It’s mine. I’m old enough.”

Me: “I don’t think so, sir. And, if I’m right, you’ll be spending time explaining things to the nice officer in the office.”

Customer: “That’s my ID and I’m 21.”

Me: “Okay, let’s go.”

(I begin escorting him to the office.)

Customer: “I don’t get it. What was the problem with it?”

Me: “Well, for starters, I’ve seen a lot of IDs come through here. I’m not aware of any state that uses photos with a beach scene background.”