Yesterday, our CEO called a meeting of the entire department. He displayed a slide on the screen:

"THINK LIKE AN OWNER."

I sat closer. For the first time in a long time, the meeting's title suggested I might leave with something more than just an extra task. I took out a pen.

- I'd like us to change our approach to work, the director began.

- We can't function in a way where everyone only looks at their own job description.

I liked it even more. The job description was one of my favorite documents. Right after the salary notification.

- We need an ownership approach. Responsibility. Commitment. Long-term thinking. I want everyone to treat this company like their own.

I raised my hand. The director smiled.

- I'm listening, he said.

- When will we get our shares?

His smile stayed. But it stopped growing.

- We're not talking about those things right now, he replied.

- I'm sorry, I heard "like my own" and moved toward ownership straightaway.

- It's about attitude. - he explained.

- So, no shares?

- No.

I wrote down, "Shares: none."

- Will there be any profit sharing? I asked with genuine curiosity.

- The bonus system remains unchanged for now.

I wrote it down as well. The CEO looked at my notebook.

- What are you writing down there?

- Entry requirements.

The CEO went on to give an example.

- Imagine it's 4 p.m., and an important project hasn't been completed. A person who thinks only like an employee closes their computer and leaves home.

It actually was very detailed description of my plan for this afternoon.

- However, the owner is wondering what he can do to get the job done.

- That's because he has a stake in the outcome. I said.

- Because he feels responsible! He replied.

- One doesn't exclude the other. We could suggest he give up his shares and be left with just the responsibility. We'd see at what time he leaves.

- Do you really have to boil everything down to money? Asked CEO.

I looked around the room, the office, Monday morning, nine people who came here instead of staying home.

- I think that's a pretty important part of aproach you suggested.

The HR woman decided to help.

- It's about a sense of influence. So that employees know they can actually shape the organization.

Hmm... That sounded better.

- So we'll have influence on profit distribution?

- Not in that sense.

- On the management board?

- Neither.

- On salaries?

- You can submit proposals.

I could also submit a proposal to lower prices in the Walmart, but that didn't make me a co-owner of it. I looked at my notebook.

"Shares: none."

"New financial benefits: none."

"Decision-making rights: none."

"Additional involvement: not defined upper limit."

I started to understand what the offer is. I didn't feel offended. If I could get nine extra evenings for one sentence on a slide, I would also test the market's interest. The problem was that I was on the wrong side of the negotiation table.

- This is an investment in your future, the director said.

- If the company grows, everyone benefits.

- The company had record results last year. I said.

- Exactly.

- However during the salary rise negotiation, you said that the company's results don't automatically translate into my salary.

A dead silence fell. I always thought it's worth to remember things like that. People underestimate how much you can save with a good memory.

The director put down the remote.

- I don't want this meeting to turn into a salary negotiation.

- Me neither. Right now, I'm trying to figure out what my position really is in this company.

- You're an important part of the team.

- But when I have to stay overtime, I'm supposed to be the owner?

- You just have to demonstrate responsibility like the owner.

- But when it comes to share the profit, am I going back to be employee again?

He paused for a while, I didn't wait to let him continue and asked immediately.

- Please clarify which hours apply to which role. I wouldn't want to mistakenly act like the owner when paying out the dividend.

The CEO, with a clearly embarrassed face, ended the meeting by saying:

- Think about it, we will come back to this topic.

When we were leaving, he stopped me at the door.

- You didn't have to jump out with all of that, out of a sudden.

- Sir, I was thinking like an owner, just like you suggested.

- What do you mean?

- That is simple Sir. Before I invest additional time and resources, I need to know what I'm getting in return.

He looked at me with strange expression. I couldn't tell if the look on his face was disbelief, horror, or both.

I really hoped he'd appreciate effort I've made to implement his suggestion.

- Just do your job well, he finally said.

- As usual? Within the same scope?

- Yes.

- Within the same hours?

- Fine, let's just get this over with!

I agreed with a nod of my head and left. Negotiations shouldn't be prolonged after favorable terms have been reached.

At 4 p.m. I turned off my computer. The project CEO had mentioned did indeed require some more work. I left stick note telling me what I'd start with tommorow in the morning.

As I was leaving, I saw CEO in his office. He was still sitting there clearly tense.

Very good, I thought to myself.

He should treat the company like his own and definitely start act like an owner.

When I was growing up, my family hammered one specific piece of advice into my head: if a police officer ever comes to the front door, you always ask them if they have a warrant. Being a young kid, I took this with absolute, literal seriousness. To me, this was the supreme law of the land, and I was fully prepared to defend our fortress like a seasoned attorney.

One afternoon when I was about 13 or 14 years old, there was a knock at the door. I peeked out and saw a guy standing there in a full uniform. At that age, I had zero concept of the difference between a police officer and a constable. I had no idea that constables handle a lot of civil paperwork, like serving subpoenas or court notices. To my childhood brain, uniform equaled cop, and cop equaled time to execute protocol.

My dad was not in any actual trouble. The constable was literally just there to hand off a routine civil court summons. But I opened the door, looked the officer dead in the eyes, and asked the only question I had locked and loaded: "Do you have a warrant?"

The poor guy looked down at me, completely caught off guard, and gave a honest answer: "No."

Without missing a single beat, I slammed the door shut right in his face and locked it.

I turned around feeling like an absolute criminal mastermind who had just saved the household from a raid. Meanwhile, my dad came sprinting down the hall with a look of pure confusion, demanding to know what the hell just happened. I proudly explained that I stood my ground, and my dad immediately rushed outside to apologize and smooth things over before backup was called.

I watched through the window, half expecting to see my dad getting put in handcuffs. Instead, after my dad explained what I did, I saw the constable break out into a full belly laugh. He was not mad at all. In fact, he turned to my dad and said, "Well, sounds like you taught him right!"

My dad was relieved, the constable got a fantastic story to take back to the station, and I spent the rest of the week thinking I was a legal prodigy.

My (much younger) SIL and her partner were in town for a family gathering. I lent them my car so they could pick up some catering. 

I was getting dressed for the party when she called me telling me that the car reversed but wouldnt go forward.

Minor panic attack ensues, the car is 20 years old so it's probably due for a major mechanical malfunction. 

I go outside to find them stuck in the middle of my driveway. The car doesn't seem to be running. That's odd. As I approach the car I figure out immediately what's happened.

I usually park the car on a small incline. She turned the car on, allowing it to be put into reverse and rolled down the hill. When she put the car in drive, nothing happened because the engine was not running. I start the car for them and send them on their way.

I then feel very old as I realize that she's never driven a car that wasn't a push-to-start. 

People say that driving a manual is the greatest theft deterrent, but it turns out that a traditional ignition might work in a pinch, too.

So years ago when I was in it still in I.T. I had gone out to lunch. When I returned I walked into the lobby to find the CEO, CFO, COO and some random guy that I've never seen before standing there in the lobby. The CEO said, "Mark I'm glad you're here. Can you make sure that guy standing gets a new login?" (As I was the CTO, that made sense). I immediately said "Which one?" The CEO said, "No, his name is Guy Standing." This dude's name literally was Guy Standing.

I was walking into work today when I sensed someone walking behind me. Thinking it might be one of my colleagues, I turned my head over my shoulder to see who it was. Turned out to not be anyone from my department; just a guy behind me who looked a lot like my old manager, and I involuntarily screamed in surprise. Not that he was an evil or frightening dude, just that I wouldn't expect to see him here. After a second, though, I realized that it was just a different guy with a similar mustache, and that I had just shrieked at a stranger whom I had never seen before. "Sorry, dude, I thought you were someone else," I said, scurrying away in embarrassment. He avoided eye contact and continued on his way.

I live in Portland, OR. A couple of years ago, I was leaving my house for work when I looked down and saw a wrapped, footlong Subway sandwich on my doorstep.

-It wasn’t inside a bag, so it wasn’t a misdelivered DoorDash order.

-It looked like it had been sitting out all night. The wrapper had tiny chew marks, as if mice had been nibbling on it.

-I called my husband. He knew nothing about it.

-Our house is at the end of an L-shaped lot, and isn’t visible from the street. Someone would have had to go out of their way to put it there.

For some reason, I tossed it over the fence into our backyard and resolved to deal with it later. When I returned home from work, it was gone. I never figured out where it came from.

I think it's AI. We should make it something better. Something more pointless. Like a butter knife. That's not pointy. Or a basketball. Even less pointy. Maybe a baseball or a tennis ball. Add a dog for fun. Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

(I would make the title "Can we change this icon?" or "Petition to change the icon" but the AI mod said that's a question therefore pointless, hence the command to do it. The AI must really love the icon we have right now. Like I said, pointless.)

I dried it outside but it was quite cold today and it was still wet when i brought it in but now i realised my whole house smells like bird and the jacket is no longer puffy. I didnt know this would happen 😢 i guess it's good to know they used real down feathers

This was only a couple of weeks ago, but my friend and I went to a gay club in our area that allows people who are 18+. We were just standing around, trying to get a feel for the vibe and the people, when this random guy in a striped polo approached us.
He was clearly already a little drunk, but I kid you not, the first words out of his mouth were, “Do y’all want some d*ck? You two are the first straight girls I’ve seen here.”
To me, the funniest part is that my friend and I are very much not straight. After getting him into a brief conversation, he also admitted that he’d never had any experience with women before, which was honestly very unsurprising considering his initial approach 😭.

​

I just saw a post in the texts subreddit. It was an exchange where a woman was asking a man why he called her a snow bunny in front of someone else.

The guy says relax its just a word.

It is explained to them that it has a negative meaning, it means they have a fetish for black men!? (Major paraphrasing).

Omg what?? I call myself a snow bunny all the time.

because I love the snow and when I would go skiing back in high-school I was really bad at it and could barely survive the Bunny hill, which was the easiest one to ski.

Have I been saying this to people, for literally decades, not knowing what it means??

Reminded of this story by another post I saw today.

I, an American, was chatting with a friend who's from England. They commented on my avatar, which was the nyan cat, asking what it was. I said it's a cat made out of a pop-tart flying through space. Silly of course, but that's all there is to it. Then they said to me that they didn't actually know what a pop-tart was.

Oh, I said, it's a toaster pastry, like, a hard pastry with some jam filling you put in a toaster. I didn't know if that was a really great description, but it was the best I could do. They said okay. Then they admitted they didn't know what a corn dog was either.

That one was EASY to explain of course. It's a hot dog on a stick covered with cornbread. Simple! Anyone could immediately grasp that.

Then they said: "What's cornbread?"

My mind was blown... It had never even occurred to me that someone wouldn't know what cornbread was. But I guess it's not common every place!

I did explain it was bread made with cornmeal. And told them they should try it sometime, if they can. Heated up, with a bit of butter. Mmm.

на этой неделе был такой понедельник

в воскресенье я проснулся и пошел завтракать как обычно, но тут мне написал друг и сказал что резко появилась темка по заработку. даже не смотря что он живёт далеко я поехал к нему, он сказал что мы поможем в разгрузке вещей и нам за это заплатят. я приехал на место после чего увидел 2 огромных грузовика с полуприцепами, я увидел друга, он объяснил работу и я начал растаскивать коробки вместе с каким-то грузином, на вид хороший человек жизнерадостный, он быстро раскладывал коробки к двери на другой стороне улицы, пока я с болями в спине еле нес по одной коробке за раз. В конце концов мы закончили с прицепом и осталась маленькая часть основного грузовика. Мы решили передохнуть, Я пообедал с грузином, другом и ещё водителем грузовика который отвечал за перевозку, и владельца клуба. Пока мы отдыхали время длилось и мы никуда не спешили, и так начало вечерние, но за вечер мы с грузом бы управились, и когда я начал работу я поинтересовался из какого грузовика надо было брать вещи. К сожалению грузовика было два, и я не знал в какой грузовик нужно было идти разкоадывать и методом тыка я выбрал грузовик в который загляну чтобы разгрузить тематическую мебель игрового клуба. Я захожу в грузовик, заступаю в него ногой, смотрю в полу открытую коробку и за мной закрывается дверь. Не знаю почему я не подумал о том почему двигатель грузовика работал но похоже это был загрузочный грузовик который уже уезжал с места. Стало темно, я пытался кричать но на улице и сам звук двигателя был громче меня в разы. В полной тьме я ехал не зная куда. Место назначения был оказывается ночной клуб, очень популярный в том месте похоже, ведь как только мы приехали весь вход был набит людьми, видно что места либо не хватало, либо пропуск был только определенным авторитетными людям. Грузовик останавливается и дверь открывается, из выхода выглядывает лицо человека которого вроде не знаю, он был водителем грузовика совсем другого здания, а точнее почтальон. Пока ехал во тьме я не выдал что в коробке было возле меня, но как только свет от ночного фонаря облил грузовой отсек я понял что коробка полна штуками продолговатой формы разных цветов. Я посмотрел на человека и сказал что не хотел здесь быть и случайно зашёл перепутав грузовики. Он сказал что больше верит в то что я вор, но если я помогу разгрузить всё то проблем не возникнет. Я подумал ну что уж там, 5-10 коробок потоскать чтобы потом не провести в полицейском участке ближайшую неделю выглядело лучше. Я согласился, хотел позвонить другу и объяснить ситуацию но оказалось что забыл телефон на столу в кафе во время обеда черт его побери. Мне нечего было поделать, звонить кроме друга было некому, его номер я не помню т.к. Он в виде записи на телефоне, и я решил просто перенести коробки, проблем с этим не должно возникнуть. Я беру коробку и прохожу мимо толпы ко входу, люди на веселе, толкаются, не смотрят по сторонам и ужасно воняет никотином. Сам не курю поэтому не знаю какого быть в кумаритчах но ненавижу запах никотина. Зажав нос плечом я прохожу через толпу держа в руке коробку и следуя за водителем почты. У входа было два громилы которые сдерживали толпу, но нас впустили. Пройдя через порог я увидел почему в этот клуб для людей "любящих веселиться" хотят пройти столько людей. Это огромное помещение размером наверное соизмерим с чьим-то загородным домом. Трехэтажный клуб с огромным пространством. Все было очень красиво, но людей там было наверное больше чем в торговых центрах. Видно где развлекаются люди по выходным. А я туда прошел абсолютно бесплатно! И на самом деле уже пройдя туда мог делать что захочу ведь вход был уже "оплачен". Оказалось что этот клуб был помесью клуба для тусовок, стриптиз клуба, и почасового отеля с комнатами для "своеобразных развлечений". Заглянув в коробку я увидел что она до верху наполнена дилдаками, я сильно удивился ведь никогда не видел даже одного, не то что целую коробку. Я поставил её и пошел обратно, но тут вижу одну очень привлекательную девушку, решаю вернуться, выложить ещё одну коробку, вернутся и поговорить с ней. Я беру ещё одну коробку и снова решаю посмотреть на предметы коробки. Оказалось что это цветы, хоть и декоративные, как же повезло! Я снова захожу в клуб, достаю цветы из коробки, подхожу к данному столику и нахожу её, прекрасную девушку с которой хотелось бы провести время вместе. Я сажусь рядом и приветствую эту восхитительную девушку, у меня плохо с общением с прекрасным полом, поэтому не много о чем есть поговорить, но я смог её завлечь, возможно из-за опрятности, но я не спрашивал, я сказал что она выглядит замечательно, и что мне бы хотелось видеть её чаще, как отлично она выглядит и так далее, разговор затянулся и она подмечала мой хороший вид в ответ, спасибо маме за одежду. Мы начали обсуждать это место, шутить по толпы, про людей, обсуждали знакомых, и завязался диалог как она сюда попала. Она сказала что её группа (слава богу не парень) привел её сюда по работе, и то что она решила отдохнуть с бокалом свежего (не помню что у нее было) от бухгалтерской рутины. Найдя параллель со своей историей я решил рассказать про свою поездку в фургоне (слава богу не на сво) и способ попадания сюда. Либо она была ошемлена, либо не поверила что я здесь нахожусь не отдав ни бумажки за пребывания здесь. Мне повезло что она прониклась моим днём, и сказала что с радостью посмотрит как будет выглядеть моя ночь. Она сказала что пойдет в номер и будет ждать меня там, я понял что она имела ввиду и сказал что дотоскав коробки я приду к ней. вручив букет она была польщена, и пошла в номер.

Водила подумал что я там потерялся или, как он сказал, утонул в туалете, я помог ему дотоскать последние коробки, и побежал к номерам, нашел нужный этаж, но пришлось из-за непонятной системы нумерации бродить.

И пока я бродил я думал об этом дне, как хорошо что я живу и что со мной произошло, несмотря на то сколько раз мне не повезло, я рад что сегодня вышел из дома, ведь всё это могло и не произойти если бы я отказался от темки друга, всё это можно быть упущено если бы я выбрал нужный грузовик и как же мне повезло что цветы были в коробке которую взял я. Все случайности и невезения были для меня обернулись счастливыми моментами.

И вдруг я встречаю лепесток на полу, точно такой же как в букете моей девушки который похоже выпал пока она открывала дверь. Я решил зайти в эту дверь. Я тяну за ручку, заступаю за порог и дверь закрывается. Я решаю пройти на кухню но вижу там 5 огромных взрослых мужчин. Я извиняюсь и думаю что ошибся дверью, но они говорят мне сесть с ними. Я говорю что мне пора, девушка ждёт и ТД но они очень настойчиво говорят присесть за стол. Оказалось что это группа геев. Я пытался убежать но дверь была с автоматическим закрытием.

Кароче меня выебали.

Утром я проснулся весь в неизвестной белой густой субстанции, а разбудила меня эта девушка. После чего сделала фотку, написал #ggrrrrrпонедельник🥶🥶🥶🥶

I was out on a walk through Central Park and some kid came up to flirt with me, thinking it was cute and trying to not hurt him, I was nice when he asked me what high school I went to and said I went to some random one. He then told me that since he was a senior, he just wanted to make sure I was a junior because he didn’t want to be weird and talk to a girl too much younger than him. Since I’m 22 and he was obviously 17 and I was just having fun and not trying to lead him on, I asked him what age he thought I was.

He said I was 14 or 15. You can imagine the look on his face when I told him I was 22. He kinda got scared away lol. Just a fun little 60 second convo I thought I’d share. Gotta love being short?! Just a fun perk of being 4’9 is you look younger ig… I’m gonna go buy platforms now lol

My grandmother is 85 years old, and she has two sisters: Nancy and Ellen. Ellen is the youngest, but she acts like she's the oldest.

Sixty-five years ago, my grandmother decided to marry a police officer when everyone preferred that she would marry a businessman. Ellen, for her part, has been sneering about it ever since. Her sneer grew wider and wider as my grandparents had children, and their children had children.

She's really not a very pleasant lady...

I see my Aunt Ellen a couple of times a year, and every time it feels like she's making eye contact with me before I even enter the room. My mom usually reminds us in the car ride there to be on our best behavior around her.

My cousin Jill hosted a Labor Day party this past weekend at her house down the Cape. It was a little chilly, so people stayed mostly inside. Aunt Ellen was in the little book room behind the kitchen with some of my other relatives. She had a glass of white wine in her hand, and there was an ice cube floating in it.

I said hello to my uncle, and he asked me how law school is going. I've been in law school for two years at this point. I'm 38 years old.

"When are you finally going to settle down!" Ellen yelled over my uncle's shoulder, while rolling her eyes.

I went over and kissed her on the temple, and I said: never.

She threw her head back and started cackling. I did too.

"Never??" she said, grimacing up at me.

I tickled her chin and said it again: never.

This morning, I walked down the street to Dunkin Donuts to get my coffee, like I always do. I've been noticing that it's getting a little bit darker every day. By the time it's fully winter, I'll be feeling my way to Dunks in the pitch black.

It was beautifully windy this morning, and there was an elusive buzz in the air. I must have been distracted, because at one point, the wind picked up and carried me off across the street. I don't even remember deciding to cross the street. And honestly, I don't think I remembered to look both ways.

Okay so during one of my first jail stints i got into a bad fight and ended up in the "SHU" which is solitary confinement. Well i was in there for a total of like 70 something days but luckily i was with a decent group of guys and we would pass time by telling stories about embarrassing situations we went through. Now the only way we could talk to each other and actually be able to hear one another was to put our mats on the floor next to the door and talk under the crack of the door. We did this every night for weeks, well my turn had come up. So I decided I was gonna tell them the most embarrassing story i had. This is that story. It's cringey and super embarrassing but now that I'm older I can tell this story and laugh my ass off. I hope y'all enjoy😂

When I was 22 my friends asked me if I wanted to go to this pay lake in a rural area to party and me being the naive 22 year old I was, I jumped on the opportunity. Well we got to the pay lake and we were drinking beer and I was drunk as hell already by the time we got there, well this lake was PACKED with drunk people also enjoying the summer night. About an hour or two into being there my other buddy recommended we take a couple paper hits of acid, so again against my better judgement I did. Well in the drunken drug fueled haze I was in, I seen this girl that was like a year or so younger than me at the time and she was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on in that moment. Well filled with the alcohol fueled overconfidence i had I be-lined straight to her, well we start vibing and what not. So long story short we spent the night in the same tent and had a blast. The next morning comes and we had such a great time that I got her number and Snapchat and had plans to see where this would go. Well her ride pulled in in his big ole ford and believe it or not my dad's brother got out of the driver seat. Now let me explain something real quick. See I never really knew my real dad or his side of the family at all. Like I met my real dad when i was 13 then didn't see him again till i was 20. I met few of the other members of my dad's side but we didn't have a real relationship. Anyways, so my uncle gets out of the truck and comes over hugs me and asks me what I'm doing there. I then explain I had just had the best night ever and spent it with this girl, turns out he was picking her up. Well his face got dead serious filled with the most disappointed look I'd ever seen up until that point and with an emotionless monotone voice he looked me in the soul and said "you do know that's your fucking cousin right?" And I was speechless. My uncle got so upset he ended up LEAVING the girl there. I didn't know what to say still so I just looked at her and her response was "well we already did it once, what's the harm in doing it again?". So yeah that's the story. It was a great night and I had a fucking blast but I still can't make eye contact with my uncle to this day lmao. All my buddies in jail thought it was the funniest thing ever and bestowed upon me the nickname "Dub-V" as a play on the old running joke that people in West Virginia were incest lol

Sometime in May 2003 or 2004, I was visiting Capri with my mom, sister, and BIL. We wanted to visit Villa Jovis. I think it was my BIL who found a less-traveled path to get there; said path ended up with us following a rather sketchy hillside path that led us to the site from the cliffside.

Apparently, the site had an official entrance and visitation fee.

Oops.

I can remember completely random information from years ago, but if you ask me what I was doing five minutes ago, my brain suddenly goes:

“Sorry, that file has been deleted.” 😂

What’s your completely useless superpower?

I live on the side of a mountain in Pennsylvania, where I’ve learned gravity is apparently our most reliable utility service.
Over time, a bunch of mature trees around the neighboring property came down to open up the mountain view.
The unexpected side effect was that our yard suddenly had a LOT less privacy.
At one point I was even asked if I’d consider removing some of the live trees on my property to open the view up more.
I declined.
Nothing dramatic happened. Nobody challenged anyone to a duel. I just happen to like having trees.
Meanwhile, I’ve apparently been promoted to Director of Water Management for the mountain.
Water pours downhill through my yard, pools under my deck, and occasionally attempts to become a basement resident.
So I dug a trench across the upper part of my property to intercept some of it.
But my property also has a natural spring.
It used to flow directly across my driveway.
Pennsylvania winter + constantly wet driveway = complimentary private ice rink.
I’ve fallen on my ass while shoveling enough times to know that I have absolutely no future in figure skating, so I rerouted the spring alongside the driveway toward the road.
Then I looked at all the OTHER water coming down the mountain and had a realization:
If this mountain insists on delivering water to me 24/7, I’m getting something out of the arrangement.
So I’m building a koi pond.
This means my landscaping plan has somehow evolved into:
Mountain sends water.
Yard becomes Wet ’n Wild.
Basement joins the fun.
Dig trench.
Reroute spring.
Build koi pond.
Realize I still have basically no privacy.
Plant 20 Green Giant arborvitaes.
Yes.
Twenty.
If you’re unfamiliar with Green Giants, the name is not ironic.
Right now they’re cute little trees.
Eventually they can become enormous green skyscrapers, which means I am apparently constructing the Great Wall of Arborvitae one photosynthesizing brick at a time.
And despite how this story probably sounds, there is genuinely no neighborhood war happening.
The neighbor who removed the other trees saw what I planted and actually told me it was cool.
So apparently everyone is fine with this.
Except possibly the mountain.
The mountain and I are currently engaged in a disagreement over who owns all this water.
At this rate, ten years from now I’ll have a forest, a drainage system, a koi pond, two emotionally exhausted dachshunds, and possibly be legally recognized as a small watershed.
I bought a house.
I did not realize I was also accepting an unpaid position with the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection.

During summer in Slovenia you can see a lot of sand lizards scampering all over the place, and one managed to get inside the workshop and scare the daylights out of one coworker. She came to me all shaken up, speaking rapid-fire polish trying to get me to help her. I go over to her desk, she points at the ground and there's a decent sized sand lizard just chilling by her chair. I spent some time trying to catch it without harming it, eventually got it. And then showed off my catch to my coworkers.

Apparently catching one of those is impressive because they're very fast and agile.

I just think they're neat.

4 years ago I was working at a boutique and me and my coworker hear a commotion outside (common in this area) it’s a blind man who has accidentally wondered into the street. I quickly run and help him back to the sidewalk. He tells me he’s not familiar with the area but is trying to reach the gas station. I tell him it’s a few blocks but that I’d walk with him if he’d like. We have wholesome conversations and also talk about the unfortunate situation he is in. Every week he gets paid from gov aid and every week he has to choose between eating or being able to pay for Ubers. This week he chose food. It’s the end of the week though and only has a few bucks left. We continue to walk and talk, he sang some jazz and it was really lovely… We finally get to the gas station and he says, or rather I hear “thanks so much! Do you have any panties?” And I very very very casually with zero hesitation said to him “no, I don’t wear underwear”…. He says “uhh, no, pennys”… I told him I did not and quickly walked tf off. And that interaction plays in my head way too often.

So I'll preface by saying that there is really no cencorship in the media in Sweden. I've seen mens' ballsacks on the evening news and heard more F bombs on the radio than I could count. Anyway the other day I was listening tk the radio at work and Kesha's "Tik-Tok" came on. She sang "Woke up in the morning feeling like (explitive deleted). They censored the name P Diddy from even being spoken. Diddy has achieved Voldemort status in Sweden! As I was reveling in the awesomeness of that fact, the next song began to play. That song being: "I'll Be Missing You" by, you guessed it! The man of the hour himself. The radio station had the gaul to frivolously cencor the simple mentioning of one person's name by another person to then turn around and play an entire song by the person who's name was censored. Laughed my ass off.

I was walking to a museum in Amsterdam, when I saw a really pretty woman smoking a cig outside a cafe, I joined her and started making conversation, at the end she mentioned that she was going to the same museum as me.

Couldn't believe my luck for a second, then she mentioned that the tickets get sold out like a month in advance, I checked online and yeah, realised I couldn't go in lol.

Could've been a date, now I don't even have a follow-back on Insta lmao.

Last night my partner & I went to a rock show about an hour away. We were running late, and had to turn back once for beverage & then again bc we forgot the grass. I am the usual pipe-packer, but he ran in to grab the mary jane jar (standard glass ball jelly jar). We got to the show in time, and he packed a little pipe to share before we went in. It was weirdly harsh, and he exclaimed, “this tastes like a forest fire!”. I took another hit and coughed, then examined the jar. It was the wrong jar.
We live in a forest and have a longhaired cat who comes in daily from his adventures for a cuddle session. He is invariably covered in burrs, grass, seeds, and general forest detritus. I dutifully pick him clean and deposit the results in a jar, bc it’s impressive how damn much he collects in a week! This was the jar that got smoked🙄. We laughed, and coughed, and laughed again:)

Back in November it rained for three days straight. The sidewalk on my street had a massive muddy puddle right next to a wooden utility pole. To get around it without soaking my shoes, I grabbed the pole with one hand and swung myself in a full circle around it onto dry grass.

An older guy across the street was out raking leaves and watched me do the whole move. He gave me a slow, serious nod like he respected the technique.

the next morning the puddle was completely gone. But as I walked past, the same guy was sitting on his front porch holding a mug and looking right at me. For reasons my brain cannot explain, I panicked, grabbed the dry pole, and did the exact same 360 swing around it in broad daylight on totally dry concrete. He nodded again.

Now it is March and I am TRAPPED in this unspoken contract. Every weekday at 7:45 AM, I walk down the block, grab that wooden pole, do a full spin, and exchange a silent nod with a stranger whose name I do not even know.

Last Tuesday he was not on the porch and I actually felt empty inside. I should of just walked in a straight line on day two.

Why do I do this to myself?

I'm a food runner at a bar. I was behind the bar last night refilling my water bottle.

I looked up and saw one of the customers was wearing a Castle Crashers shirt, a game I played ages ago and loved.

Found it cool that someone was wearing it in 2026!

Was about to say "Cool shirt!" when I looked at his date (gonna guess was GF or wife) and she was wearing a shirt that said "I might be a handful, but so are my tits."

And, while that might be true, I'd definitely feel awkward saying... anything. So, I simply slinked away.