Brandi: I knocked my phone into the trash the other night and didn’t realize it. I thought a pen fell in or something, but when I started getting my things together to go home, I couldn’t find it, so I called from the theatre and there it was–ringing trash can.
Me: At least your ringer is usually on. I’ll never find mine if I try and call it because it’s always in vibrate mode.
Me: I’ll just have to post “Lost” signs…”if you find an offensive-looking phone, please contact…”
Blair: Your phone is blue and green though. How is that offensive?
Me: Nooo. I broke that case. So I got a new one. *plunks the phone on the counter, grammar-eagle side up, and Blair and Brandi laugh*
Brandi: Where did you even get that?
Me: This website I like. I had a coupon, so it was a birthday gift to me.
Blair: A coupon? For that?
Brandi: What, like, visit heil-Hitler dot com and enter code 3REICH to claim a special offer..?
Blair: *cracking up*
Me: *faceplants on counter* Omg.
So, there’s that. Also, me trying to eat frozen pie…
Me: This fork is not living up to my expectations. *pause* Or maybe the pie is just too frozen.
Thabet: You’re eating frozen pie with a plastic fork? Yeah, that’s not gonna work out. *watches me struggle* You could always use Don’s peanut-butter knife.
Me: Heck no! Does it ever even get washed? I don’t think so. It just sits on that shelf, out in the open. In an office with house centipedes.
Thabet: Yeah. That’s true. *long pause* I bet they love that knife.
Thabet: Yeah…eating peanut butter residue…dancing complicated little tap dances…curling up with their little centipede children at night…
Me: That settles it. I can’t use the knife–not if I’d be destroying a home and displacing a family.
Thabet: Really? Where’s the old Nazi enthusiasm for destroying the lives of vermin?
Thabet: Too far?
Me: That and… *in a quiet, fearful voice* well…things are not like they used to be before the radiation. These days they just have so many legs… *shudder*
Thabet: *cracks up*