Pizza In Multiple Languages

, , , , | Canada | Hopeless | April 29, 2016

(I am on a long international flight from Canada by myself. It is a flight journey of over 26 hours and I have just gotten off at the Montreal Airport. There is a five hour layover there, and I realize that I have left my cards back home and I have absolutely zero cash except for some local money of the country I am travelling to. At this point, I am sitting at the boarding gate, my stomach growling because I have barely eaten, and I have a whole 4 hours more to go for my next flight. There’s an old Indian lady who is frantically trying to talk to people in Punjabi, an Indian language. I walk up to her and try to talk to her in Hindi, another Indian language which is sort of similar.)

Me: *in Hindi* “Are you okay? What do you need? You seem upset.”

Old Lady: *in Punjabi* “My son told me to go and ask for the boarding gate. I am flying to India and I don’t know who to ask. Nobody understands what I say, and I don’t understand what they say.”

(As the languages are fairly similar, we attempt to communicate through gestures and common phrases to communicate to each other.)

Me: “No problem. Let me see your boarding pass. Ah, you are headed towards Delhi.”

(I make small talk and I take her to her boarding gate.)

Old Lady: I am hungry. Could you show me vegetarian places I could buy food at?

(I take her to different food stalls and list out options. I try to make sure I show her completely vegetarian options. She settles on a pizza.)

Old Lady: “How much is that pizza?”

Me: “It should come to around 15 Canadian Dollars.”

Old Lady: “It is so expensive. I will barely have enough left. And it is so small.”

(I smile sadly at her, my own stomach growling. The lady buys the pizza and invites me to sit with her.)

Old Lady: “Won’t you have anything?”

Me: “No, thank you. I am quite full.”

Old Lady: “No, no. This won’t do. You must take some of the pizza.”

(Despite my protests, she makes me take about a quarter of her already quite small pizza.)

Old Lady: “Now we are both full. I feel happy.”

(The old lady proceeded to thank me and bless me to have a great trip ahead. We sat together and talked until she had to board. The old lady made my day so much better!)

Don’t Put Your Foot In Your Mouth

, , , | Prishtina, Kosovo | Hopeless | April 29, 2016

(I am travelling in Prishtina, Kosovo, when I happen to step on a broken glass bottle and my foot immediately starts to bleed profusely. Not wanting to call for an ambulance I simply head to the nearest public place, which in this case happens to be a bar, hoping they will have a first aid kit.)

Me: “Excuse me, do you have a first aid kit?”

Barkeeper: “Sorry, I speak only little English.”

Me: “Disinfect?” *pointing to my shoe, now almost entirely coloured red from the blood*

Barkeeper: “Ahh.” *he proceeds to hand me a huge bottle of very nice vodka* “This.”

(I thank him, pour some of the vodka in a glass, and go to the bathroom to disinfect the wound with the alcohol. The wound is luckily not too deep despite the massive bleeding. I use the paper towels to stop the bleeding and head back to the bar.)

Me: “Thank you so much! How much for the vodka?”

Barkeeper: “No. Vodka is free.” *he hands me the rest of the bottle* “This goes in your mouth. Keep. Present from Kosovo.”

(I am shocked, thank him again, and leave him a nice tip, which he tried very hard to refuse. Then I limp off with my almost full one-litre bottle of the best vodka in the house. The wound didn’t get infected, and healed quite nicely in a couple of days. The Kosovan hospitality is definitely not a myth!)

Sized You Up As One Size Down

, , | Lufkin, TX, USA | Hopeless | April 28, 2016

(I have been striving to lose weight and, for the first time in a year, have gone clothes shopping. I assume I’m in size 24 garments, but when I try an outfit on, I find I’m actually a size 22. Feeling confident about myself, I go with my mother to grab breakfast in my new outfit the next day.)

Random Guy: *stops to look at me* “You look beautiful. You know that? And you should always wear green. It really agrees with you.” *walks off*

(It was a small thing, but any time I have felt down about something, I remember that and it’s given me a surge of confidence. Thank you, sir, for that.)

The (pedi)Cure To All Problems

, | AR, USA | Hopeless | April 28, 2016

(I go get a pedicure. There is another woman in the shop already when I get there, and she is being attended to by the owner’s wife. The owner’s son takes me but sits me next to his mother’s client. Halfway through my pedicure, the client next to me gets up as and knocks her drink over onto my shoes. They are old slip-ons that I only wear for pedicures or nasty outside works, so I don’t much care.)

Client: “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. It was an accident!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s okay. I’m not upset. They’re just shoes.”

(The owner’s wife picks up my shoes and washes them in a clean pedicure bath while the lady keeps apologizing. She gets up to leave once my shoes are rinsed off and goes to pay. I go back to my magazine. The wife and son speak in their native language for a moment.)

Son: “My mother says that the lady paid for your session because you were so nice about the accident.”

Client: “You weren’t supposed to tell her until I left!”

(She playfully stomped out, but it made my eyes water at how kind she was.)

Turning Cursing Into A Blessing

, | MO, USA | Hopeless | April 28, 2016

(This takes place as I answer the phone.)

Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [Jewelry Store]. This is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “God d***, f******…!”

(This stream of cursing goes on for a couple seconds as it is evident that the customer has not realized I answered the phone.)

Me: “Hello? How may I help you?”

Customer: “Oh, God, did you just hear all of that?! I am so sorry! You shouldn’t have heard that. I didn’t realize you had picked up the phone! What’s your name, ma’am?”

Me: “It’s [My Name], sir, and it’s okay! I’ve heard it all before.”

Customer: “However, I am still sorry. I shouldn’t have been cursing.”

(I direct his call and about a week passes. I am at work when I hear a customer ask if I was in today, and he is carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.)

Customer: “Here you go, ma’am. I am so sorry you had to hear that. A gentleman should never curse in front of a lady. Please accept these flowers as my apology.”

(The flowers were beautiful, whoever you are! Thank you for making my week!)

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