There’s an eyeglass shop just down the hall from my store, and I set up an appointment for an eye exam. I’m told the appointment will be at eleven twenty. When I confirm the appointment online a few days later, the email says eleven forty. Just to be safe, I show up in time for the eleven twenty appointment.

Employee: “Do you have an appointment today?”
Me: “Yes, either at eleven twenty or eleven forty.”
Employee: “I’ll check. Name?”
Me: “[My name].”

The employee goes over to a computer and types for a moment.

Employee: “Eleven thirty.”

The appointment itself went just fine.

The other day, me and my bestfriend was travelling by bus to an another city. The ride is one and a half hours long, so we never talk through the ride, we are just catching up in the first 5 or 10 minutes, and then we both grab our headphones, and listen to music for the rest of the ride.

The next converstation happened at the time, we already had our headphones in.
A random dude got up on the bus, and as he walked past by us, he stopped.

Dude: Hello girls, can I sit behind you?

Me and my friend just stared at each other, like ‘why is he talking to us? Can’t he see, we have our headphones in?’ then we looked back at him confused, and then we nodded unsurely, still doesn’t understanding why is he asking us.

Dude: Okay. Than I won’t.

And he left.

I just… What?

(My mom and I are watching tv and there is an ad about bipolar depression)

Mom: *talking to the cat* “Do you have bipolar depression?”

My best friend and I, both female, often jokingly flirt with each other. This usually means exchanging over-the-top compliments or dropping pickup lines.

Friend: “Are you an aquatic bird? ‘Cause you’re a . . .”

Friend: *sends a picture of a coot*

Friend: “Coot-is”

Friend: “Coot-I’ve”

Friend: “Coot-ie!”

Friend: “F**K YOU AUTOCORRECT!”

As a female necessity, I always keep miniature chocolate bars in my room, divided between two jars since the variety bag they come in is quite large. My father has a notorious sweet tooth.

Father: *poking his head in the door* “Chocolate? Chocolate for the poor?”

Me: “. . . First off, you are not poor.”

I gave him a few chocolates anyway.