Here is an illustration of the kind of helpful friend, mother and co-worker I’ve been just this month. All both of you that read this should feel free to ‘Ask Rama’. I can be just as helpful to you. These are actual conversations I’ve had with people, primarily via text but some parts were in person as well.

For informational purposes: Haley is a colleague and Dave is a friend from way back.

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Haley*: I want people to leave me alone. [People keep asking me questions about things that I’m not that familiar with. I’m just helping someone else out.]**

Me: Work some random nonsense words into your answers and see if anyone notices.

Haley: (Completely unfazed by my response. This is why we’re also friends.) I try. I think they know what’s up.

Me: Try answering in Danish***. As though you’ve suddenly forgotten English.

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Haley: The new guy is now my best friend.

Me: Which one?

Haley: The one that is in here every 10 minutes.

Me: Do you need me to dick punch him?

Haley: Yes. I don’t know how to politely tell him this is not my area. I’m just helping out and I don’t know all the details.

Me: Say exactly that.

In Danish. Adopt an accent immediately. Pretend to be FROM Denmark. Speak only in broken English.

Haley: I already told him I don’t know anything. He laughed.

Me: Tonight make vanilla pudding. Put it in a mayo jar and keep it on your desk. Get a spoon and take a few bites when someone undesirable comes to ask a question.

Haley: (Laughs)

Me: Get a terra cotta pot. Keep crushed Oreos in it. Occasionally sprinkle ‘dirt’ on your ‘mayonnaise’ as you eat.

~~Later~~

Haley: The guy just asked [a detailed question which I didn’t know the answer to]. I replied *shrug*

Me: Did you shrug in Danish?

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Haley: The guy keeps asking me questions. I say I don’t know. He just stands there until I guess an answer.

Me: How have you not stabbed someone?

Haley: I want to throw things. [How many times do I need to tell them I don’t know?]

Me: I got nothing. Apparently you look knowledgeable. I tell people ‘I don’t know’ and they believe me.

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Dave*: I’m going about [my job] all wrong. Instead of getting promoted off of merit and hard work, I should be fucking my way to the top.

Me: Totally. Work on that.

Dave: Meh. My manager is a lesbian, so that won’t work and above her I would have to be gay and I just don’t see me getting on my knees.

Me: You could just be a bottom.

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Text to Ham from outside her dance studio: I’m outside. But I’m not telling you where. It’ll be like hide and seek. You just have to figure it out. In the dark.

In my defense this was particularly funny because I was parked directly in front of the door to the studio. She just shook her head at me.

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Haley and I had a conversation about how the electronic file she was working with was nonfunctional. There were boxes where information was supposed to go but the electronic file won’t allow you to fill them in due to a series of stupid actions by others.

Me: Put random information into the boxes that may or may not apply. The project manager will just bitch and mark everything up anyway.

Haley: Yeah. That would be an option if the boxes could actually be filled in.

Me: Print it out. Write the info in with a purple pen. Scan it and save it in the project file.

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Go ahead! Ask Rama!

*Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

**Long bits of conversations have been paraphrased. This is indicated by bracket because I like brackets and think they don’t get used enough.

***Haley actually speaks Danish. Fucking CRAZY, right??!