(Being something of a geek and introvert, I end up being bullied in middle school. It is mostly trash talk and little pranks, nothing criminal, but enough of it can build up to a lot of stress. I am miserable for most of my time there. But all things come to an end and high school is a breath of fresh air. I am still a geek and introvert, but with a wider range of classes and clubs I almost never see my bullies anymore and they are too busy to seek me out. Fast forward to the last few months of high school.)

Old Bully: “Hey, [My Name], hold up!”

Me: *cautious* “What’s up?”

Old Bully: “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being such a s*** to you back at [Middle School]. You didn’t deserve it. So, I’m sorry.”

Me: *stunned* “Thanks.”

(Looking back at that moment, everything that happened in middle school seemed so much smaller. I don’t know if the bully had been going through some sort of counselling or if he was just feeling remorseful on his own, but I really did appreciate that.)

(I work in a pizza delivery store. The people I work with are great; it’s like a small family. We have a customer who is semi-regular, ordering every three weeks or so, but she always gets delivery. She lives twenty minutes out of town but pays an extra $5 on top for us to deliver to her. For the past three orders, she has called the store to complain about her pizza being cold, so this time the owner made, cooked, cut, sauced, and delivered it himself to make sure it was right. Sure enough, she calls again and this is one side of the conversation.)

Owner: “Well, ma’am, I am sorry that you feel that way… Yes, yes, it was… Yes, I did that all myself… No, there is no one higher up than me; I’m the owner… There is no corporate… What would you like me to do, ma’am?… I’d suggest that you come get it yourself if that’s the problem… Yes, I know you pay extra to get it delivered… I’m not going to ask my staff to speed for you… Hang on.”

(He starts searching on the computer.)

Owner: “Okay, ma’am, for an extra $390 I can get it to you in ten minutes… Well, that’s the going price of a speeding ticket… I’m sorry you feel that way… I am going to write a note saying we won’t deliver to you anymore… Goodbye, ma’am.”

For my freshman year and first half of my sophomore year of high school, our campus has no air conditioning save for two rooms: the auditorium and one staff office. We have a few unusually hot, humid days near the start of my freshman year. The temperatures climb high enough that a lot of sports games are canceled and even classes let out for a few days. We receive emails about keeping cool and staying hydrated to avoid heat exhaustion.

One afternoon, I’m sitting in my art class when, out of nowhere, an ice cream truck jingle plays over the loudspeaker. We students look at each other in confusion for a few seconds before an upperclassman wheels a school lunch cart through the classroom door… stacked high with boxes of popsicles.

Upperclassmen were going around the school, distributing carts full of popsicles to every class so we could cool down a little bit. I have no idea how they set up the music over the loudspeaker, but it was certainly a good way to weather a hot day.

(I am going for a walk in the park near my home. Due to the lovely day, there are a lot of cyclists who will generally warn you when they are approaching. One cyclist gives me a heads up.)

Cyclist: “To your left. You’re gonna smile!”

(Sure enough, after moving to the side for her and getting a closer look, I notice that sharing her seat is a life-sized plastic skeleton. Sitting back-to-back with that skeleton is another skeleton. This one is wearing overalls and a straw hat and “playing” a banjo. I am highly amused by this and do indeed get a laugh out of it.)

Cyclist: “Told you!”

Late at night, my grandfather calls me to say my grandmother is having an “episode” and needs me. I hurry over, take one look at her, and call an ambulance; we escort her to the hospital.

My grandmother has become increasingly anxious about getting older and sicker and is visibly shaking and getting upset at the sudden onset of people around her taking blood, canulating, running ECGs, etc. The primary nurse has been professional, but far from warm or personable. My grandmother and I are nurses ourselves — well, Grandma was, years ago — so we totally understand that that happens sometimes.

My grandmother is given a cup of disgusting potassium liquid to drink, which she does quickly, but, in an effort to try and cheer herself up, she says, “Ugh! Wah wah wah! I want a lolly after that!”

The primary nurse disappears out of the room for a minute and returns… holding a rainbow lollipop, which she unwraps and presents to Grandma. She says, still in her serious voice, “That’s for being a brave girl,” and then heads out of the room again.

Grandma was so chuffed she talked about that little gesture for her remaining years.