I’m a man in my mid-forties. I am taking a stroll in a small nature reserve near my house with my wife and dog.

Along the path, an older man around seventy years old is standing with his family (I assume) — a son and daughter perhaps, in their thirties. As we get closer, we see that the man is talking to his dog, a young husky, who sits in the grass in front of him — stuff like “sit” and “stay”.

As we pass, his (unleashed) pup stands up and walks toward our (leashed) dog. They seem friendly, so I let them sniff and greet each other.

The man walks up to me with an authoritarian CEO-like air about him and points and waves his finger at me in a belittling manner.

Man: “Can’t you see that I am training my dog? You should not let your dog distract my dog when I am obviously training him!”

I have worked very hard for years to become my own boss and not have anyone tell me what to do. I’m not planning on having a stranger treat me like he is my boss. I am a peaceful guy normally, but this man has struck the wrong chord. I get angry and copy his finger-pointing.

Me: “You don’t get to talk to me that way. Do you always talk to strangers like that?”

The man’s family in the background awkwardly glances at him, obviously ashamed of him.

Man: “YES, BUT YOU SHOULD NOT—”

Me: *Interrupting* “That dog should be on a leash!”

That is the rule of the nature reserve, and there are high fines if you get caught.

Man: “You are right about that, but I am training him, and you should—”

Me: *Interrupting again* “You should learn how to talk to strangers and show some manners!”

Then, I turned my back to him and walked away, saying, “Unbelievable!” to my wife, just loud enough to make sure the man heard me.

He spluttered on a bit, but we ignored him from that point. To be honest, I felt quite good about how I handled this. A few years ago, I probably would have let him walk all over me. Not anymore!

Almost every Friday like clockwork, our pizza place gets a delivery order for 42 [Street]. I am new, so I am bringing pizza to this address for the first time. I knock on the door to 42, and it’s opened by a group of three wide-eyed kids. The children’s faces all light up when they see me, my uniform, and most importantly, the pizza box.

Children: *All in unison* “Mommy ordered pizza! Mommy ordered pizza! We’re having pizzaaaaa!“

Just as I think I am about to make these kid’s night, the mother appears. She looks very skinny, and I notice that the apartment looks a little… barren. I’ve seen this before when I was also young and had a single mother scraping by just to keep the kids well-fed and warm.

She looks at me, looks at her kids, and she looks like she is about to cry.

Mother: “Sorry, I think you’re looking for 42-B. This is 42-A. It’s the door just past this one.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see.”

Mother: “It’s okay. The doors aren’t very clear.”

The kids have put it together, and they realize the pizza is not for them. They don’t cry or have a tantrum, but I can tell their little hearts are broken.

Mother: *To her kids* “Remember your manners! Say goodbye to the nice man!”

They all manage a subdued “bye” as the mother closes the door, and I feel broken.

I successfully deliver the pizza to the correct recipient and head back to the pizza place. I instantly tell the manager about my encounter, and within minutes, I am out the door again for more deliveries.

Less than an hour later, I am standing in front of 42-A. The kids once again open the door and are surprised to see me, although they’re tempering their excitement this time after what happened before.

Me: “Hey, kids! Is your mommy here?”

Before they can answer, their mother has returned again. Her face is one of confusion when she sees me again.

Me: “Oh, hello again! After my mistake of knocking on the wrong door earlier, I wanted to make it up to you and bring you some pizzas on the house. One of these is a veggie supreme, and the other is a pepperoni as I didn’t know if you were vegetarian or not. You’re welcome to both if that’s not an issue.”

Mother: *Embarrassed* “I… I don’t have any money for a tip.”

Me: “That’s what ‘on the house’ means! My tip was seeing your kids behaving so politely earlier and wishing me an amazing goodbye! So… can I give you the pizza?”

The mother burst into tears as she happily accepted, and the kids almost exploded with excitement. I totally get it; I would have been elated to know we were getting pizza when I was a kid. They happily took both pizzas!

And they did so again the Friday after that when 42-B made their order again.

And again…

And sometimes when 42-B didn’t even order…

And for all the kid’s birthdays…

For two more years. 

That family kept my soul alive until I left for college!

I was working in a store this summer where the customers were either tourists or regulars who came in exclaiming what a beautiful store we had, saying they had gone past it so many times and had never actually come in before. No matter the reason, many people loved it, and some just came in to breathe in the atmosphere and listen to the music.

One day, a few customers were walking around in the store, and I was alone by the register. Two women who did not know each other came up to make a purchase. On their way out, they both started looking around a bit again. Then, one of them came back after a while.

Woman #1: “I found this one, too.”

I took her payment. She walked toward the door, only to have something catch her attention again.

A man came up.

Man: “I want to buy this. Hold on; I’ll have to use my laundry money.”

He started to count up very small coins. We chuckled a bit as he talked about how difficult it was to come in here and not buy anything.

Just as we finished the transaction, the two women came up again with new purchases, causing the second woman to start laughing loudly for anyone to hear.

Woman #2: “This is hilarious! We’re never getting out of here. We were both here just a moment ago!”

Man: “I know! It is so difficult to leave.”

Woman #2: *To [Woman #1]* “We’ll have to close our eyes and walk out this time.”

Woman #1: “Well, this is my third purchase, so I definitely need to get out of here.”

With some laughs and what looked like a sudden friendship between the three, they finished their transactions.

Woman #2: *To me* “Don’t worry; we’ll get out of here now so we won’t bother you anymore.”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry; you’re welcome here any time. I don’t mind. You are welcome even if it is just to look around.”

They laughed at that.

Man: “Of course, we are; we can’t look without purchasing!”

Woman #2: “Well, I have to stop now, unfortunately, or I’ll run out of money.”

Then, they all hurried along the few meters to the door, making a point of not looking at anything. I had a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

Client: “I am not happy with your work. I turned down another quote to work with you, so I want more out of you.”

Me: “What did the other people quote you?”

Client: “I’ll email it to you.”

Within a minute, the forwarded email arrives in my inbox.

Me: “They quoted you twice my rate for half my work.”

Client: “Which is unacceptable! We need to revisit your output.”

Me: “And my quote.”

Client: “Exactly!”

The client didn’t exactly understand what I meant by that until he saw my quote rise with his heightened output expectations.

This is a story from my first year of high school. A young boy with mobility issues attended a number of my classes; some days he would get around using a pair of crutches, and on bad days, he would use a wheelchair. He was also well below average height and suffered from what is known locally as “Wee Man Syndrome”. In other words, he would regularly try to pick fights with people much, much bigger than him for little or no reason. Although, he was fairly safe in the knowledge that nobody wanted to be known as the person who fought the small kid in a wheelchair.

That is, until the events of this story.

One day, in the middle of a class, our teacher had to step out. I don’t know why, but we were left unsupervised for what felt like a really long time, and most of us kids started to have a laugh and carry on.

Now, I forget what started it but the kid, who was using his crutches on this occasion, took exception to something a much taller boy said and made a critical error of judgment.

Wee Guy: “I want to fight you.”

Tall Kid: “What did you say?”

Wee Guy: “You heard me: I want to fight you. Square go, right now!”

His error of judgment here was that the kid he was speaking to had a reputation for being a bit wild and for not taking crap from anyone, not even from teachers (hence having spent a fair bit of time in detention).

Tall Kid: “Aye,. Okay, then. Let’s go.”

At that point, he got out of his seat and walked over to the Wee Guy’s desk. The Wee Guy promptly panicked and tried to hit him over the head with one of his crutches. The Tall Kid snatched the crutch out of the air, threw it away, and then picked the Wee Guy up by his collar.

Tall Kid: “Listen very carefully because this is the only warning you are getting. I don’t care that you can’t walk. I think you’re a coward because you pick fights knowing people don’t want to fight you. Well, the next time you talk crap to me or any of my pals, I am going to make you eat your crutches.”

Then, he shoved the Wee Guy back into his seat, picked the crutch up, slammed it onto the desk in front of him, and walked back to his own seat.

The teacher came back to class not long afterward, so that was pretty much the end of it, but funnily enough, I don’t recall the Wee Guy picking any more fights after this incident. I don’t remember what the class was, but I do remember the lesson.