Fiancé: “Was your butt forged by Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom?”

Me: “How did you know?!”

Fiancé: “Because it’s precious to me!”

(I am chatting with my coworkers about finances.)

Me: “I handled the finances for my fiancé and I. What I say goes. In fact, if I wanted to get a car, I am sure my fiancé would only ask what color.”

Coworker: “I don’t believe that!”

Me: “Fine, I will try it out tonight.”

(Later that night…)

Me: “So, we should get a car.”

Fiancé: “What? Really? Are you sure?”

Me: “Yeah! I’m thinking a Mini-Cooper.”

Fiancé: “I don’t know… can we afford it?”

Me: “Honey! I told my coworkers that you would be willing to get a car.”

Fiancé: “Well, I was going to say yes. But then I thought you would get mad that I didn’t want to save for the wedding. I wasn’t going to win either way, was I?”

(My fiancée and I are laying in bed. I have bad circulation, so my feet get very cold very easily. We are also both huge geeks, and are rather prone to making Dungeons And Dragons jokes. I start trying to burrow my feet into my fiancée’s blankets to warm my feet against his.)

Fiancée: “What are you doing? No! No! I’m protected by my Blanket Wall +4!”

(He pulls his blankets in tight around himself.)

Me: “Ha! I have a natural burrow speed.”

(I manage to burrow my feet in under his blankets again.)

Fiancée: “No! Magic Blanket Wall +4! Why aren’t you regenerating?!”

Me: ”Must have failed the Fort Save needed to regenerate…”

(I eventually win the battle and get my feet warmed up, but it doesn’t really matter. By this point we are laughing so hard we can’t sleep anyways.)

(I work in a bookstore. I notice a woman listening to her iPod and mouthing the words, as she looks through the teen fiction section. I read her lips, go over, and tap her on the shoulder. She turns around, pausing the song.)

Woman: “Oh, I’m sorry; do you want me to turn it down?”

Me: “No, I just… are you listening to You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid?”

Woman: “… yes?”

Me: “I love that song.”

(She immediately beams, and unzips her jacket to reveal an Offspring shirt.)

Woman: “Me, too!”

Me: “That’s…”

(She holds out the book in her hands; a fairly popular horror novel.)

Woman: “I don’t suppose you like Kendare Blake?”

Me: “… so, I get off in half an hour. I don’t suppose you would want to go get coffee?

Woman: “As long as I can pay.”

(That was a year ago. I proposed to her last week.)

Me: “I hate all these new boy bands. Even their names are cheesy. One Direction; what type of name is that?”

Fiancé: “One Direction… that reminds me of New Directions.”

Me: “Seriously? A Glee Reference? You’ve been making a few too many of those lately. You’re starting to have me worried. Do you have something you need to tell me?”

Fiancé: “What? It’s an awesome show.”

Me: “Okay, but it’s becoming your thing. I think you might be gay, love. It’s okay; you can tell me.”

Fiancé: “I love you!”

(A few days later, we are listening to a bunch of random music…)

Fiancé: “Is it sad that most of these songs are reminding me of Glee?”

Me: “No. It just means you’re gay.”

Fiancé: “I can just picture Shuester singing ‘Bust a Move’ right now.”

Me: “I wish I had never introduced you to that show. At least I know that I’m marrying a gay man.”

Fiancé: “Vanilla Ice, Ice, Baby!”

(A few days later, and we’re messaging online…)

Me: “I love you.”

Fiancé: “I lgbt you, too.”

Me: “You’re gay?! I knew it!”

Fiancé: “Autocorrect! I already have a hard enough time proving I’m straight to my future wife.”

Me: “It’s okay. You don’t have to go back into the closet. I still love you.”