(I had a cold a couple weeks ago and was endlessly relieved when I managed to not to pass it to my boyfriend, but he has managed to catch a different one from one of his coworkers. I’m at work the day after Christmas, a Monday when most people including my partner are off, and commiserating with my “work wife.” He is a man and I am a woman.)

Me: “There’s one advantage to being at work today. [Boyfriend] is definitely sick. At least I don’t have to be home listening to him complain about it.”

Coworker: “Silver lining!”

Me: “Yeah. I mean, you know I love him, but I love him a little less when he’s sick. He’s horrible.”

Coworker: “Whiny?”

Me: “Definitely not stoic at all.”

Coworker: “Well, of course not, sweetie. He’s a guy.” *laughs* “We’re all like that.”

(He’s the first one I’ve met who admits it!)

(We draw names for a Secret Santa gift exchange at work. Two coworkers have been good friends for many years, predating their employment at our car dealership. They used to be housemates, hang out all the time, get their families together, have regular poker nights, take vacations together, etc. One of the best friends opens his present from [Coworker #1]. It is a bottle of his favorite Scotch. He is thrilled, and his best friend is intensely jealous. A few gifts later, it is the other friend’s turn to open his gift. He receives… a bottle of the same Scotch.)

Best Friend #1: ‘How did you know exactly what to get me?’

Coworker #1: “I asked [Best Friend #2].”

Best Friend #2: *to [Coworker #2]* “And how did you know what to get me?”

Coworker #2: “I asked [Best Friend #1].”

Best Friend #2: “So, we both knew the other was getting what we wanted, but not that we were getting the same thing?”

Coworker #2: “Apparently!”

(We all knew they’d probably end up drinking them together, anyway.)

(My mom and I are about to fly from California to London to spend Christmas with some friends. It will be her first time visiting the United Kingdom.)

Mom: “Do they have gift wrapping over there? My presents aren’t wrapped.”

Me: “Did you just ask me if they have gift wrapping paper in London?! It’s the United Kingdom; they’re not cave dwellers.”

Mom: “I don’t know. British gift wrapping paper could be different.”

Me: “Actually, you know what? Yeah, you’re right. The British gift wrapping paper will only wrap properly around British produced or purchased objects.”

Mom: “Shut up!”

(I work as a service writer at a car dealership. I always check and edit the stories the mechanics write, in terms of how they addressed customer concerns or performed work, to fix typos and provide clarification as needed for the customer. One of my mechanics does solid work, but he moved frequently between countries with different languages when he was young and he is the first to admit that as a result, his written English is… not excellent. I have fixed some GREAT lines from him. Quotes are exactly as he wrote.)

Note: “clear cods and tests drive four miles. check engine light diet cam beak on.” *Cleared fault codes and road tested vehicle for four miles. Check Engine light did not recur.*

Note: “THE BATTERY IS GOD.” *The battery is good.*

Note: “NEED RUINING LIGHTS ASS REPLACED RUINING LIGHTS ASS” *Wiring internal to daytime running light assembly is defective. Replaced running light assembly.*

(It is a hot day. I am picking up two vanilla milkshakes and nothing else in the drive-thru. I get to the pick up window.)

Worker: *hands me the milkshakes* “Would you like ketchup with that?”

Me: *pause* “What?”

Worker: “Would you like ketchup with that?”

Me: “I don’t think that would taste very good.”

Worker: *realizing her mistake* “Oh… um….”

Me: “You automatically ask that with any order don’t you?”

Worker: “Yes…”