Aside from the obvious not wanting to live in my car reasons, conversations like this are what keep my job from being so dull I want to Super Glue myself to something just to see how people would handle a glue crisis:
Guy who has been working here for 27 years, but just decided he needed to accessorize: You’re a young professional, what do you keep business cards in?
Me: (snickering at his obvious delusions) My cards or cards I receive from others?
Guy: From others.
Me: Under my stuffed mouse, Mortimer (reaching to lift Mortimer from his perch to expose the large pile of business cards).
Guy: Of course you do. Where do you keep your cards?
Me: In my desk. I don’t like to give them out, they have my real identity on them. I prefer to steal cards from other people and give those out instead. Cuts down on email traffic.
Guy: Why do I keep asking you questions thinking I’ll get a reasonable answer?
Me: Because you have a head injury that caused anterograde amnesia like Drew Barrymore’s character in 50 First Dates?
Guy: Yeah. That’s probably it. Want a tangerine? Bob has some on his desk.
Me: Sure. I hear scurvy’s a bitch.
[Exit, stage left. While mumbling about stuffed mice and big metal chickens]
Side note, I don’t have a bloody clue who Bob is, but his tangerines are delightful.
Mortimer, earning his keep: