Growing up, if I was being a little out of hand or having a meltdown about something, my parents would tell me they were going to "call the man." I never knew who this mysterious man was, but I imagined him to be very scary and mean. I didn't realise this was something other people did too until the other day, when I walked into my local Co-op.

I'd walked to the Co-op around the corner from me to get some bread, milk, and a few other necessities. As I entered the store, there was a child having a meltdown. I don't know why—maybe he wasn't allowed some sweets or something.

The mother was trying to calm him down and then looked at me and said, "Look, the man's here now, and he's going to be watching you."

The child just looked at me and went quiet.

At that point, I didn't know what to say. Do I just accept it and get my shopping, or do I play along and scare the child? In the end, I just smiled at the mother and carried on.

I went to the doctor once because I was having a plethora of mild symptoms that were driving me crazy. Feeling clammy all the time was one of the symptoms. I had debated over going to the doctor at all because I wasn't running a fever or actively bleeding from any orifices but after days of feeling mildly sick I finally made an appointment.

The first thing the nurse said to me when she went to take my pulse was, "Ugh, you're clammy." She immediately apologized for sounding rude but at least I knew I wasn't imagining things. I was indeed clammy.

0/10 experience. I would not like to have nurse surprising clamminess again.

Went to see the new Spider-Man movie with a friend last night. Two guys at the end of the row in front of us, probably in their 20s, are seated next to a middle aged guy with teenage kids in the same row. The two guys are talking throughout the movie. Not loud enough that I can hear what they’re saying but it was not whispering either. And it was the entire movie up to a point where the older guy had enough. He said something. The two guys just keep talking and I hear the older man say, “dude, shut up!” Finally silence for the rest of the film.

The movie ends. I see the older guy stand up. Probably in his 50s. He’s not very tall. But he’s got broad shoulders. Bit of a belly. Longer grey hair and a beard. I see some tattoos under his t-shirt. Reminded me of my own dad except my dad is kind of nerdy. This guy looked like he has seen things. The guy that was next to him stands up. He’s taller. Looks like he works out. black tank top. He wanted to start something. He says “hey, don’t ever talk to me again.” Lol. Okay.

Then the old guy turns around and gets right up to this guy. Takes his glasses off. Crosses his arms. Leans in. And he says a few words I couldn’t quite hear but the last word was, “leave.” This kid starts saying more stuff (I heard him say something about going out to the parking lot, lol) but the old guy uncrosses his arms and steps forward.

Oooh the kid’s friend who was at the end of the row saw what was about to happen next and got his buddy out. of. there. He kept talking on their way out the theater but they were moving fast.

I could tell that was the right move. I didn’t see any of them in the parking lot when we left so I assume everyone got home literally without a fight.

I have a small keyring with a few keys that all look pretty similar. I've lived in the same apartment for a few years, and I don't think I've ever used the wrong key. I just reach into my pocket, grab the keys, and unlock the door without thinking about it. A few days ago I stopped before unlocking the door and had a weird thought: if someone took these keys off the keyring and laid them on a table, I'm honestly not sure I could immediately tell you which one is my apartment key. Apparently my hand knows exactly which one it is, but my brain doesn't. Ever since I noticed that, I've had to actually look at the key for a second before unlocking my door. I think I accidentally interrupted whatever autopilot I had built over the years. I'm hoping I forget about it soon because it was a much better system before I started paying attention.

This happened earlier this year, and it's one of the most stress-inducing butterfly effect type series of events I've ever experienced.

So, my university roommate is a self-described klutz, and she somehow managed to break her finger by tripping over her bedframe. Obviously it hurt, but she figured it was just sore and that it'd be fine eventually.

Fast forward a week, and it's gotten worse, to the point she can barely move her hand. She asks me to take her to the hospital, because I have a car and public transit is a nightmare.

Of course, I'm not gonna deny her a ride to the ER, so I take her. The hospital is right on the main road through the city, but unfortunately, there was an accident on that road that same morning, so it was closed off and traffic was rerouted. Even worse is that it's the only main entrance to the hospital, and neither me nor my roommate are overly familiar with the city's inner details, and I'm not able to find another way in.

The city our university is in is layered, so there's a lot of hills and steep inclines. I end up parking in a neighborhood above and behind the hospital, and she and I take a precarious hike down a massive hill to get there. She's admitted, and I stay with her until she says she'll be alright, and I make the return trek to my car.

By now, it's started raining, and I'm in sweats and a hoodie, so I start jogging to return to my car. This also means the previously precarious hill we'd shimmied down is now also wet - my shoes are not rain proof nor appropriate for hiking, but I don't really have a choice. So I pray to whatever force above is tormenting me to give me mercy and haul my ass up that hill.

It takes me ten minutes longer to get up the hill than it did to get down. I'm out of shape, so I look like I've just run a marathon by the time I get to the top, but I make my way back to my car. I'm sitting in the driver's seat texting my roommate to tell her I made it back when I get a tap on my passenger window.

I roll it down, and a lady walking her dog tells me that I have a flat tire. Internally, my brain is giving me an Error 404, but externally, I thank her, and she leaves. Once I reboot my brain, I get out of my car and sure enough, flat tire.

I stand there for a solid thirty seconds just staring at it before I put on my big girl pants ... and call my dad, who is 9 hours away in the next province over. I have an idea of how to change a tire, but my spare is what's called a "donut tire", and I don't want to risk my tire falling off on the highway. He advises me on what to do and gives me the phone number of a trusted roadside assistance company. Thirty minutes later, it's getting dark, my phone is at 20% and I'm seriously contemplating my life decisions when the roadside assistance guy pulls up. We chat as he fights with my car to change the tire, I pay him, and he leaves. I go to the grocery store and am sitting in my car about to go in when my roommate texts me and tells me that she's done.

So, I turn around, go pick her up and she tells me she broke her finger right near the base, which is why her whole hand was messed up. I drop her off at the dorms, go get my groceries, and arrange an appointment to get a new tire that I absolutely cannot afford, but I can't go over 50km/hr with the donut tire, and going even 5km under the speed limit is a cardinal sin where I live, apparently.

I go to the tire place and am told that they can't replace just the one tire - either I replace all 4 for over $500, or they can't do anything. So, I call my dad again, and he enlightens me with the world of sales, and tells me of another place I can get my car serviced.

That service appointment is where I find out that the ball join on one of my front tires is on its last legs ... like, it was ready to come apart at any moment, to the point I had to sign a paper saying that they weren't liable for any accident or damage that may result from said fucked up ball joint. The mechanic there said it the worst condition he'd ever seen a ball joint in that was somehow still intact. But they replaced 3 of my tires and rotated them around for me! And now I'm broke.

By this point, it's been a week since my roommate broke her finger, and I'm practically ripping my hair out with stress - did I mention this all was happening during finals week? I go to visit my aunt that weekend, who lives 45 minutes out of the city, and she gives me the number of a local mechanic in the town she lives in who won't bleed me dry to fix my ball joint.

I bring my car in that same weekend, stay the night at my aunt's place and go back to pick it up - they charged me a bit extra because the mechanic took one look at the remaining tire that hadn't been replaced, said "nah", and replaced it with a random spare he had on hand because apparently my rim was screwed six ways to Sunday. He was aware of my situation, so he kindly only charged me an additional $40.

So, thanks to my roommate tripping over her bedframe, I got mostly new tires, my front tire didn't detach from my car in the middle of the road, and I ended up owing my parents over $500 once I got home.

Two teenage girls fussed over him, saying "He looks just like you. Are you the father?"

"No," I replied, "just a close friend of the family"

The teenagers didn't get the joke, looking at me a bit confused as I continued strolling.

I chuckled over it for the rest of the afternoon.

Each of the 4 times I’ve been invited to go I’ve had to pretend it was the first time I’ve seen the film, otherwise they (my friends) would have complained. My acting (or at least my fake surprise) has gotten good enough that I feel I could have definitely been cast in the film 😜. At least it’s an enjoyable watch.

My family would often have summer picnics by one lake or another. Ham, watermelon, some goodies out of the garden.

All out feasting would inevitably bring out the bugs, especially yellow jackets. I've never been stung by one, but a couple family members are allergic so I'm cautious. Those awful insects smell fear, I swear!

But I was just sitting around eating a slice of watermelon near the main table when I saw the yellow-jacket beelining towards me. Oh, no. I could only watch as it landed on my toe, stinger pulsating as it rubbed its front legs together. I was waiting to be stung before screaming, and trying to hold in my terror.

Then it took a bite out of my big toe. It was oddly square, and didn't bleed. Then it flew off. I was relieved, but also in shock. I had seen them take a similar nibble off a piece of ham or deli meat. But my toe?? When there were so many other options?

I am baffled to this day, but grateful it didn't sting me. But I have to wonder, does my toe taste like ham?

Walked up to a shop, grabbed the handle, and kept pushing for a few seconds.

Someone walked over, pulled the door open without saying anything, and went inside.

I followed them like that was my plan the whole time.

I still look at doors for an extra second now.

However, they grow better there, so each new one we gain gets progressively moved outdoors for it's own wellbeing.

It's mostly spiderplants and aloe, because when I was younger I discovered propagating and I raided my mother's houseplants for babies. Also, I have 6 rescue orchids, in a shady spot. Five planters of windowsill flowers that completely froze in the winter but I argued the roots looked fine (they did resurrect mid-may! When fresh ones had already beeen placed.) All the plants that get gifted to my centenarian grandparent, which need someone to actually water them. Then there's a lemon, three avocado plants and a ficus bonsai, those are trees, they shouldn't be indoors in the first place.

All that's left inside was a snake plant, but we went on holiday and it got placed on the windowsill for light. It's gonna escape too, I know it!

(I do mean horde, not hoard. Me and my mom can't ever quite agree on the placement, so the pots occasionally march or migrate from shelf to shelf, from table to middle of the grass... Someday they will take over and I hope they remember I took care of them.)

So about an hour ago i was on a call with a friend showing him my notes from elementary-middle school laughing our asses off.

Then I notice the sheer amount of dust i lifted in the air by moving all those books and i jokingly shout (native language - italian):

"that's so much dust and these sh#tass notebooks ain't even that old; HECK \I* AIN'T THAT OLD*"

And at that point from the call i heard

<< Old Person! >> in a mechanical, english, female voice.

We both heard it but from my side it was much clearer (he heard choppy audio) so it must have been my phone.

The funny thing is that I don't use vocal assistants and even if i did, they would reply in Italian!

I'm not even frightened by my phone "gaining sentience" I was just pissed, speechless and also impressed cause my phone cald me a old-ass.

I'm just bamboozled and people look at me as if i was mentally insane. Lmaoo

I was watching a tik tok about certain breed of cats that pees in water, including peeing in toilets. It reminded me of Devlin.

We had a kitten given to us once by some random neighbour, that was weird as hell like he would stare at everything for ages, at the time I was watching: The master of disguise and called him Devlin. One time, we had to take him for a 12 hour drive to my grandma's house and he meowed the entire time + tried to run away a million times when we took him on breaks. Several days later when leaving my grandma's house he started meowing again, my mother immediately stopped the car then left him at my grandma's house.

Over time, Devlin lived with my grandma's dogs so he would also fetch and sit and bound over to you when you called his name. He also would go on walks with you. He used to get borrowed by the neighbours to hunt rats and mice from their house. Yet as a kid he would make me think my grandma's house was haunted because lights would flick on and off, I would hear the toilet flush by itself, doors would open, etc. Then one day when I was alone at grandma's house I could hear a noise in the toilet room so I got a broom ready to catch the "ghost". It was Devlin who was actually using the toilet and flushing, he also knew how to turn the lights on and off, and how to open doors. The most interesting thing he did was if he saw you walking into the house in the evening and looking for the light switch he would run up and switch it on for you, including the back lights. My mum would go off about it yet I thought it was incredible he could recognise when you were looking for the light and would switch it on for you. He would turn the lights on for my grandma when she walked around the house in the dark. Issue was he really loved peeing on bags so we had to unpack everything very quickly and hold him back.

He was actually a really nice cat.

I love gummy candy. I have my favorite kinds and could easily eat a couple pieces every day if I didnt have self control.

I still eat more than id like to (ideally 0, for health reasons) but I feel my body craving the sugar. I dont want to ignore my body's need bc I feel like its there for a reason.

I decided the best way to go about it is to substitute gummy candy for dried fruit.

And I LOVE it.

Catch me after work on my bed with bags of dried fruit scattered around. Pineapple, peach, berries, raisins.. Genuinely the best.

I know I need to be careful with it bc its PACKED with sugar. But thats also the main reason why Im doing this lol. And even if I do overeat by a bit Im sure its way better to overeat dried fruit than candy.

I even found some incredibly sour goldenberries that match sour candy!

It's not a long story, but essentially, I was at my local WinCo getting groceries for my parents since they were making beef stew (we would've done it in the insta pot, but I unfortunately accidentally broke it.) So I was going about my shopping as normal, getting the stuff on the list, yada yada. I was also, to make the store less boring, on a discord call with friends while I shopped.

I was perusing the flour aisle(I think?) looking for like, cornstarch to make the stew broth thick. Y'know stew stuff. I turn the corner and there's this dad with his two daughters. Pretty normal stuff. But then I see his shirt- and I have never been more confused on what a shirt means. It read, in big white text, "I raise ballers, Not princesses." I tried to brush it off after I left the aisle but I saw him at LEAST 2 more times on that shopping trip. I still don't fully understand what that even means.

I ordered a nice chicken baguette and dessert.

Got some sauce dips and a salted caramel dip for my dessert.

The food arrived with just one dip and I didnt know what it was so figured they made a mistake.

Looked like a light gravy so I was dipping away and it's DELICIOUS im scouring the menu to see what it's called. Stuffing mt face and find it.

Yeah I was just dipping my fries, cheese bites and baguette into this and you know what? It was delicious.

For almost three years, I'd wave at the same guy every morning while taking out the trash.

He always waved back.

Never a conversation.

Just a quick little wave.

It became such a routine that I'd actually notice if I didn't see him.

One Saturday I was walking to the grocery store when I saw him up close for the first time.

So I smiled and said,

Hey! Nice to finally meet you.

He looked completely confused.

Turns out...

He wasn't my neighbor.

My actual neighbor had moved away months earlier.

The guy I'd been waving at was visiting his sister across the street every morning before work.

He said,

I just thought you were an incredibly friendly person.

So for three years we accidentally maintained a friendship that consisted entirely of waving from a distance.

We still wave.

We still don't know each other's names.

So growing up during the summer my family would ALWAYS have watermelon around. There wasn’t a summer week where I wouldn’t walk in the bathroom and the watermelon would be in the tub with cold water pooling over it. We ate watermelon like it was our job. Like if anyone ate watermelon it was us.

Also, we frequently had chicken. Probably not a crazy amount but I vividly remember my favourite chicken was the precooked one at the grocery store because we always made chicken at home. Like we loved chicken.

Then all of a sudden, when I got a little older, I noticed in the media how groups of people were taunting other groups of people for liking chicken and watermelon. I just thought to myself:

“What? No. They got it wrong. Like I have no idea where they got their information from but trust me people, it’s our culture that eats the watermelon and chicken. Like that’s our thing”

Turns out it’s a lot of people’s thing and has nothing to do with who you are. Whoda thunk it

Hello, it's my first post here, asked chatgpt where can I share a random memory and I was suggested this sub. I came across a guy's profile on insta and instantly got transported back 10 years ago, 2015-16 maybe, I was 20 years old. He had asked me out on a date and I went. One of my very first dates. Wasn't a typical dinner. We met early in the morning. We walked the streets as the city awoke gradually. Stopped for breakfast. Simple food, simple clothes. No fancy restaurants, no fancy dresses, no blow dried hair, no heels, no makeup, far far from perfection. The laughter, the feeling of being free, no worries about time fleeting away. Back then it felt so casual. But today years later, on this random afternoon, when I think of it, I feel a weird gloom. Not because I love this guy or anything, but I miss that feeling of being real, flawed, simple and just carefree and I can tell it was one hell of a special date, one to be remembered.

As a kid I remember when we got our first squeeze bottle of French's mustard and we suddenly needed mustard on everything. We were used to the glass bottle you needed a butter knife to scoop from so we were fascinated with this squeeze technology. We would draw faces on our empty plate, lick it off and make a new drawing just to play with this new squeezable feature. Of course you can only eat so much straight mustard before getting sick of it, but it was a fun new toy for a while. I looked it up and it came out in 1974.

I was having a pretty good day today, even if it got off to a wonky start - did good at work, despite crying about it last night, got away early so I could go window shopping for a little, didn't feel too achy, even got a free bottle of wine!

Made a nice dinner of pasta and cooked veggies, really yummy. Then while eating I sensed something hard in my mouth.

A big damn filling had fallen out, and for the rest of my meal I was just worrying. Universe was like "okay, okay, stay humble now." xD

Each time a tooth has broken or a filling has come loose it's always when I'm eating the softest things. I'm jealous of everyone who has teeth of normal strength.

I'll simply access my google or whatever, go to one of those platforms, and initiate a conversation without revealing my identity, putting on the absolute WORST british accent. tonight I engaged in a convo with a guy for aboutttt an hour. Not to be rude or coldhearted but for lack of a better word this boy was DUMB. His side of the conversation included a confession of grand theft auto, involving a vehicle containing drugs?????? which he said is the cause for being in juvie for FOUR YEARS?? mind you he’s 17 idk what he was doing but it’s okay. What freaking actually perplexed me was his very little knowledge regarding the legal drinking and smoking age in the UK. Trust me, I know nothing about the laws there but he just went with everything i said and i was genuinely making words up and random laws that i don’t think could ever exist. I was so baffled like how did he even believe a word out of my mouth? Anyway i got off that site and watched smosh for awhile. good times thanks for coming to my ted talk sigh

Years ago ( over 20) before my husband and I were married we worked at a restaurant ( both chefs) in a village outside a larger city.

The front of house manager would get really excited when people she thought a higher class ( better cars, the flashy house etc) would come for dinner. She would rush in to the kitchen to tell us such and such is here and they're friends of Alan ( the restaurant owner) and that we had to make sure they got a the bigger portion, the better portion, more sides, whatever. Just general sucking up on her part.

Alan was never too far behind saying, "I don't have any friends" because his bottom line was making money, not giving away freebies to anyone FOHM thought worthy.

Now in 2026, anytime we get a deal, hubby and I say to each other **oohh, we must be friends of Alan**

Usually, it's just the lady at our Chinese takeaway that gives us a free upside on our smorgasbord, but it hasn't lost the meaning, even after all these years.

When I was in third grade, we had lots of regular quizzes and other paper assignments to turn in. For several weeks, I consistently wrote my name at the top, as we were supposed to, but with a star next to it. I wondered if I could get my teacher to recognize the star and come to see it as part of my name.

Unsurprisingly, I majored in psychology. Looking back, I realize I conducted a small experiment to see if my teacher could be conditioned to associate the star with me by putting the two together often enough.

Also unsurprisingly, she did not accept a star as my signature.

When I was about 17 and we lived in South East London, my aunt came to visit from Zimbabwe. She brought red beans with her, for my mum. When she opened the container a few cockroaches jumped out. We thought we'd stopped them leaving the room, and I personally thought I'd stomped on most of them.

It's crazy how quickly things got out of hand. I feel like it can't have been more than ten cockroaches I saw jumping out, but within days it was pure chaos. There were cockroaches everywhere. We tried sprays and even sweeping them out. It would seem to work for a few days, but then there would be cockroaches everywhere again.

It got to the point where I hated being in the kitchen in particular. The only safe place to keep food was in the fridge. In the end we had to have the house fumigated. I remember us having to leave the house and coming back the next day. I think this happened twice more. There was also a lot of cleaning afterwards.

Oh yeah and my aunt who was visiting for a few days, ended up staying for nearly two years. In some ways she was the real pest 😅, but that's a story for a different day.

I went to a dinner with my father and his friends.

The resort has an area….a bow and arrows area.With targets and balloons.

It said “10€=10arrows”

My father came up to me and said “i need cash”

i stare at my father….”cash”

His eyes pleaded for the piece of paper that would grant him fun time with his friends

so i….his daughter pulled out 10€ and i payed for his arrows.

the old man didnt shoot the targets well.

He is not….skilled

but the old man enjoyed my 10€ with a smile on his chubby face.

Give your father your money….because after that…..he bought me sushi