(My girlfriend and I — also female — have been dating for six years, and recently moved to Italy together as we are both archaeologists. I decide to talk a bit about the future while we’re watching TV.)

Me: “Do you ever think about the future?”

Girlfriend: “Sometimes, I guess. I prefer to think about now. Why? Am I still in your future?”

Me: “Oh, yeah. But only for one more week.”

([Girlfriend] looks at me in horror.)

Me: “I’m joking! Don’t look so scared! You should know me by now!”

(She relaxes.)

Girlfriend: “Good, because you’re in my future to stay.”

(A week later I take her out to dinner, something we don’t do very often, and then for a walk in the nearby park. It’s clear to her that this is something special, but she doesn’t ask any questions.)

Me: “You remember how I said you were only going to be my girlfriend for one more week?”

(The horrified look returns. I turn to face her and get down on one knee.)

Me: “How about being my fiancée, instead?”

(She said yes, and we both cried. A year later, she isn’t my fiancée anymore; she’s my wife.)

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(I have been working at [Skater Clothing Outlet] for a few months. As a newer sales kid, I have yet to lose my wide-eyed wonder of the job. I have therefore been always eager to help everybody; I sometimes get in a little trouble for my over-enthusiastic lack of a filter. I have never had a customer complain about me, nor have customers ever mentioned me directly to my manager, until one day. We are having a meeting like any other; it’s a week before black Friday, so we are prepping for our big sale. Everything is normal until the end of the employee meeting.)

Manager: *in a serious, you’re-in-trouble voice* “[My Name], I need to speak with you in private.”

(All eyes turn to me, I can hear murmurs from the crew gossiping amongst themselves as I follow my manager.)

Manager: “I had a woman come in today, and she had a few serious words with me about you.”

Me: *scared stiff* “O-oh… What about?”

Manager: “She said that–” *her face suddenly lightens up* ”–you were fantastic. She brought her daughter in, and whatever you did you made that girl smile for the first time in years.”

Me: *suddenly very relieved* “Oh, thank God. Why did you make it seem like I was in trouble?”

(She grins.)

Manager: “Because that’s what she did to me! She walked in all mean-looking and angry. She went all–” *she puffs up like an angry soccer mom* “–‘Are you the Manager?!’ I thought you murdered her dog or something before she lightened up.”

(For one summer, I work at a grocery store. This store has a department where customers from small, isolated communities send us their food requests and we pick the food, bill it on a credit card, box it, and deliver it to an airline to be flown to that community. A coworker approaches me with a customer’s food list request.)

Coworker: “Hey, can you read French?”

Me: “A little bit, why?”

Coworker: “One item on this list is written in French, and the only word I understand is ‘fromage.’”

(The item in question reads, “Le fromage de la vache qui rit.”)

Me: “Hmm… the cheese… of the cow… who laughs? What?”

Coworker: “Oh! Laughing Cow Cheese!“

Me: “There you go! Why on Earth was that in French?”

Coworker: “I have no idea.”

(I’m on the train on the way to meet up with some friends. It’s around the time that Twilight is really popular. As I stand to get ready to get off, there’s a teenage girl glaring at me because of the shirt I’m wearing. As I move closer to the door she comes up to me.)

Girl: “Why would you wear that? It isn’t funny.”

Me: “Yeah, it is.”

(She turns to a teen boy she’s with.)

Girl: “[Boy], tell her that it’s a terrible shirt.”

(He looks at my shirt, starts laughing, and gives me a fist bump.)

Boy: “That’s the best s*** I’ve seen in a long time.”

(The girl walked off in a huff. I got off the train and went about my day with my friends, two of whom had the same shirt. What did my shirt say? “Then Buffy staked Edward. The End.”)

(As my grandmother hits her very, very late 90s she becomes frail, and her hearing and eyesight begin to dim. Her speech also gets so slow it almost sounds like she pauses between words. But other than that, she has no outstanding health problems, so she’s doing well. She has just had her 102nd birthday, and we, of course, make sure to visit. Thankfully, her mind is still there.)

Grandmother: *on the topic of her birthday* “People keep asking me what my secret is. I tell them to just keep eating!”