Shot-glass

I have a shot-glass with my name on it. It was a gift from my friend Nikki. Now I don't drink, nor have any other use for it, so I was rather perplexed when I received it in the mail. It was Christmas so Nikki was back in China with her family. If Nikki was an ordinary human being the time difference would make it difficult to get a hold of her, but since Nikki's sleep mannerisms are rather unusual, I was able to chat with on Gmail her around noon, and around 2 in the morning her time.
I had met Nikki not that much earlier. She had stayed at our house along with Angela, another Chinese friend of hers during Thanksgiving break. Before they had come to stay I had sent a couple of e-mails to them, an attempt to get to know them a little bit before I met them in person. I listed a few interests, a couple of questions, just basic information, little more than two paragraphs. Angela replied with a few sentences answering my questions, carefully not saying anything more complex than she was able to convey with her imperfect English. She was polite and friendly, if not very out of the ordinary. I got the (correct) impression that she would be pleasant company, interesting to talk to, but perhaps not someone I would strongly connect to. Nikki was quite a bit different. Her e-mail was more than a page long, explaining her tastes in music (Rock of all varieties, but primarily punk), mentioning some movies she liked, and warning me of how weird she was. She used quite a bit of slang in her E-mail. She explained that she used it to make her bad English sound good.
Over Thanksgiving holiday Nikki would frequently sleep until two or three in the afternoon. After that she would talk to Angela in Chinese. But after Angela went off to get on the computer, or go back to bed, Nikki would lie on the couch and I'd sit on a chair to the side of the room. We'd talk until after midnight. I found her to be clever, perceptive, and occasionally, despite not having been raised with English, rather poetic. I wasn't surprised to learn she used to write fiction, and was disappointed to discover she had lost interest and stopped.
Asking her why I had received my shot-glass she explained that in Chinese the word for that type of glass was the same one as tragedy. Nikki would refer to anything that was comically or ironically unfortunate as a tragedy. The glass was a very round-about joke, about me being hapless. On paper it doesn't seem funny, but actually having a shot-glass, personalized with my name on it, so removed from its original purpose, it actually is pretty funny.
I did get a better present later on. She gave me a Taoist bracelet. I've worn it every day since I received it, although I take it off to write or fiddle with it. I think my birthday present will be even better. I've gotten her to promise to write another story by then.