I was studying at school with a couple of classmates, and since we study diseases it was not strange that the topic of death arose. A snippet of the conversation:
Allie: I don’t know what I’d do if my mom died, I seriously don’t know.
Ryan: Well, you’d cope and you’d move on, that’s just what happens.
Allie: Let’s hope so.
Me (to Ryan): Well, she could kill herself.
(A minute or so later I find out that Ryan’s mom died 2 years ago. Great.)
Or, take these conversations with David for example:
(FYI – this particular David is my boyfriend, NOT my brother, or my uncle, or the kid at church, or my good friend’s brother – all who are also Davids. Does this make life confusing? Yes it does.)
After he tells me a serious story about how his best friend and long-time girlfriend broke up and then she was killed a few days later in a car accident but he was still asked to be a pallbearer at her funeral because her family didn’t know they had broken up:
Me (with way too upbeat of a tone of voice): Man, that’s a bad week!
After we arrived at his house after work one evening having followed each other home in separate cars:
David: I waved at you in the car.
Me: I know, I waved back.
David: I blew you a kiss in the car.
Me: I know.
After very graciously rubbing my shoulders because I had a tension headache and I asked him to do so:
David: So how was that, was it horrible?
Me: I’ve had worse.
David: OK, just so you know, in the event that ten years from now we get married, any comment like that on wedding night will not be acceptable.