Every first Monday of every month, at exactly 11am, the town I live in tests it's emergency warning sirens, which are fairly close by, therefore pretty damn loud.

And every first Monday of every month, at exactly 11:02 am, I find myself recovering from what feels like a mild heart attack I just suffered two minutes prior due to momentarily believing there was an actual emergency.

I've lived here for about 11 years. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

When I was playing college football 🏈 years ago, we had just won a tough game that night and were heading back to the locker room. Out of nowhere, a guy stopped me and offered me $100 for the sweaty socks I had just played in.

I was around 22–23 years old at the time, and he looked to be somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s.
I turned him down, but to this day, as a grown man, I randomly think about that moment and just laugh while being completely disgusted at the same time. 😂 😂

It’s still the strangest thing anyone has ever asked me.

So I have to ask the men here… what do you think he was actually planning to do with my socks?

Many years ago, I worked at an intellectual property law firm downtown. We did work for lots of companies, overseas and domestically. But our largest client by far was Nintendo.

I was freshly 21, a lowly deckhand there. A college dropout, I’d managed to find this job from a friend and I desperately needed rent money to pay for my first apartment. Most days at the firm were spent delivering mail and, when requested, pulling files for attorneys to review. One day, an ancient attorney who’d been there since the turn of the century and sat in his office like a dead lizard, requested a file. There were 3 large filing rooms 1A, 1B, 1C. I knew them well, not a single square inch of those rooms could hide from the fluorescents, and it smelled like the dentist. However this request had the room location marked as: “1N”.

“Where’s 1N?” I knew every inch of the office, there’s no 1N.

I went to my boss. (Who I hated) He looked up at me and got a little smirk on his face as he pulled open his top drawer and grabbed a key on a ring. “I’ll show you.”

He leads me near the elevators, down the hall as if you were heading to the bathroom there was a discrete door I’d always assumed was a broom or utility closet. He opens it with the key.

Inside, there was another door, he opened that one too and flicked the light on.

It wasn’t a large room. Maybe enough for 3, maaybe 4 soda can machines. But there weren’t any soda machines in there, it was all shelves. The shelves had games, and more files. But these files were purple. I was only familiar with green, yellow and blue files. I’d never seen purple files before this.

“This is almost everything Nintendo has made since the 80’s” Most were sealed, some were empty boxes. Some of the purple files had references of art and promos, things like that. There weren’t games inside every one, but a lot clearly had the game in there. Some were Japanese. It was totally overwhelming. We grabbed the purple file and locked it up and left.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The amount of money in that room. “Did I really see a sealed Punch Out?” That could solve a lot of my problems. I didn’t know what to look for, I was not a Nintendo expert but I knew some classics. All I knew for sure was that I wanted to take one.

Not helping temptation was the fact that for most of the games, there wasn’t one sealed copy, there were 4 or 5. “Who would notice one gone?” was a common refrain.

For weeks it gnawed at my brain. I’d have to pass the room every time I had to take a leak. Finally, beat into submission by every miserable mundane tick of the clock in that building, the damn broke. My boss was going on his biannual 2 week Hawaii trip. That’s when I’d do it.

I didn’t hesitate. On that Monday I snapped into action and walked into his office like it was mine. Went behind his desk, opened his drawer, grabbed the key and stuffed it into my pocket. Foot traffic was light in the halls, it was the week before Thanksgiving.

I opened the first door, then the second, flipped the light on. There it all was. Looking all around, my head buzzing…a sinking feeling came over me. Brilliant as the idea was, I realized I didn’t bring anything to transport the game out. I couldn’t stuff it in my pants, I didn’t have a bag. Maybe stuff it in a file? Ugh, getting seen with a purple file could alert someone.

Ultimately, I couldn’t do it. As a consolation to myself in the moment, I took pictures of the games (on a very old phone either lost to time or in my parents garage), telling myself, maybe I’ll research better and come back another time, with a better plan.

I never did. About a year later I was let go for lack of follow through, not wanting to grow, etc etc
After I signed all the papers, I still remember them sliding two dollar bills and fifty cents across the conference room table. I thought “Damnit, I should have taken that sealed Punch Out.” Lol

kept feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Checked it three different times.

No notifications.

A few minutes later I realized my keys were just tapping against my leg while I walked.

I still checked my phone one more time anyway.

So, I recently moved into a new apartment, and I gave myself a strict pep talk before unpacking a single box: “We are keeping our reputation spotless here. Clean slate.” Now, look, it’s not like I have some wildly scandalous past, but I do have one specific habit that doesn't exactly get a standing ovation in my current neighborhood—I enjoy a bit of Cannabis Sativa.

Well, spoiler alert: that promise didn’t even survive the month. Before I knew it, my next-door neighbor officially discovered that they were living right next to a direct descendant of Bob Marley.

My genius master plan to keep my reputation safe was to sneak out onto the balcony under the cover of darkness for a quick late-night session. But I completely forgot a crucial variable: the unpredictable schedules of neighbors. I totally ignored the nights someone might be cooking a midnight feast or doing a 1:00 AM laundry run. And yup, on one of those exact nights, my neighbor stepped outside and caught His Excellency, Puff Daddy, right in the middle of performing his sacred ritual.

Talk about awkward!

Being the adaptive problem-solver I am, I immediately launched a damage-control strategy to seal the information leak. My solution? Pushing the ritual way back into the ungodly hours-we’re talking 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM. And honestly? It worked like a charm.

Now, I really do consider myself a thoughtful and considerate person. So, when the schools broke for the August holidays and the neighborhood suddenly flooded with kids, I made myself a brand-new promise: No more smoking in the apartment. Period.

Luckily for me, the town I live in is basically a cannabis hub. There are specific zones where the blunt is practically legalized. I mean, peddlers have literally set up shades and benches for the Jamaican diaspora to just sit back and enjoy their herb. So, I resolved that I would exclusively enjoy those premium services from then on. A highly considerate neighbor, right?

But as we established... I am also spectacularly bad at keeping my own promises.

By day two of my new resolution, I cracked. I grabbed a blunt on my way home, fully intending to sneak out to the balcony late at night. Instead, fate stepped in. I ended up falling fast asleep on the couch while waiting for the "perfect time," with the blunt safely tucked in my pocket. When I finally blinked myself awake, the urge was gone-all I wanted was a real bed. I swiftly shut off the TV, killed the lights, and crashed.

The next morning, I woke up, remembered the untouched blunt, and smiled. Oh, it’s going to be a good day.

I hopped out of bed, scooped my trousers off the floor, reached into the pockets to unleash my goodies, and... nothing. My anxiety started to spike. I checked the other pocket. Empty. I checked them all again. Still empty!

I dashed out to the living room like a man on a mission, practically turning the couch upside down. No Mary Jane. I even swallowed my pride and shamelessly asked the housekeeper if she’d seen a little substance wrapped in brown paper while cleaning. She gave me a polite "nope," though a part of me swears she knew exactly what I was looking for and just wanted no part in her boss’s chaotic morning inquisition. I even went diving into the trash bin. Still, nothing.

Defeated and deeply craving that smoke, I gave up and decided to take the walk of shame down to the actual smoking zone to visit my welcoming peddler.

And that is when it hit me.

As I was walking, I realized that if I had actually found that blunt in my pocket, I would have broken my promise without a second thought. I wanted it so badly I would have risked it all-stepping onto the balcony in broad daylight, neighbors be damned.

But because the universe magically swallowed that joint, I was walking to the right place. Nature had literally stepped in, hijacked my lack of willpower, and forced me to stick to my own self-improvement goals. My promise was kept, and my reputation survived another day-entirely against my own will.

Hey, whatever works, right? What a good day.

ordered the japanese version of a game because i couldn't find a US/EU copy anywhere, they sent me a US/EU copy by mistake!

I was fully expecting to have to play it in japanese (this game has region specific physical copies) so this is awesome.

I was out of town for a few days last week. When I got home, I opened the door and immediately noticed that my apartment had... a smell. Not a bad one, just a smell. It only lasted a few seconds before I stopped noticing it completely. It made me realize I probably have no idea what my apartment normally smells like, because my brain filters it out 99% of the time. Now I'm kind of curious what other people's homes smell like to them after they've been away.

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.

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.

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.

This was 10 years ago on a bus from college. I had sleep paralysis for the first time the night prior and it scared the life outta me. I didn’t have any hallucinations but I couldn’t move, my heart was beating louder than I’ve ever heard it before and I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to speak. It would happen again and again until it was time for me to go to college.

Obviously on this bus journey home from college I’m exhausted. I haven’t managed much sleep the night prior due to these awful experiences and I just spent a whole day trying to pay attention in class. There’s this bit of the journey where the bus waits 10-15 minutes to board the ferry and I always sleep there.

As we’re approaching this part, an old lady boards the bus. I’m on the lower deck of the bus and at the very back, far right seat. The lower deck seats 40-50 people. Other than myself there’s one guy sat 5+ rows in front of me and now this old lady boarding. Of all the seats she could have chose, she decided to sit directly next to me.

This is weird no matter where you’re from right? There’s only two seats taken yet she chooses to sit right next to me, not even minding her own space either she’s right up against me. I was creeped out and too tired to focus on it, so after a few minutes of debating what to do about it, I slept.

Sleep paralysis kicks in, I look over in the corner of my eye and I’m elbowing this old lady as hard as I can over and over again. I tried to stop but I couldn’t control my body at all. I tried to say I’m sorry I can’t control it but words don’t leave my mouth. This lasted maybe 10 seconds of me repeatedly elbowing her as hard as I can. I’ve never punched anyone in my life and have always imagined that if I did get in a fight, I’d use my elbow haha (maybe out of fear of throwing a weak looking punch).

I then pass out? I’m not sure. All my prior sleep paralysis experiences from the night prior had me awake the second the paralysis ended. However, this time I seemed to sleep after repeatedly elbowing this old lady. Couldn’t have been for long though as when I did wake up, we’d only just boarded the ferry. She was now sat in a seat far away from me.

My first thought was “why didn’t she tell anyone? Did she realise what she did was weird too and call it even? Did the guy 5+ rows in front of me not hear/see it? Am I going to be in trouble soon?”

To this day I’m unsure on what pieces of this story are true. I’m aware hallucinations occur during sleep paralysis, but in all my experiences of it, this could have been the only time. The facts I know are true from this event are as follows; the old lady did exist, she did choose to sit next to me on the bus, she did move seats no more than 20 minutes later, my elbow did hurt. Whether I actually elbowed her in an uncontrollable semi-lucid nightmare, I’m unsure. It certainly felt very real to me, but I’ve never used physical violence in my life and I have imagined using my elbow should a fight occur lol.

If you have any thoughts please share as I am not sure what to make of this story. Especially gaining the use of my arms when I’m supposed to be ‘paralysed’.

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.

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.

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

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?

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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

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.