(This clothing store has a men’s floor and a women’s floor with corresponding fitting rooms. Today, I have a more masculine look and am wearing a binder. Unfortunately, I find techs all over both the store escalators, so I have to leave the store and use the mall’s escalator. The clothes I’m carrying also all have security tags. I flag an employee.)

Me: “Hi, I would like to try on these clothes but the escalators are broken.”

Employee: “Oh.” *thinks* “Uh, actually, which fitting room do you prefer to use?”

Me: “Well, I honestly don’t really care. I’m non-binary, but I can get in trouble with the law if I use men’s, so I usually don’t try.”

Employee: “Follow me.”

(He takes me to the men’s fitting room and speaks quietly to the attendant. The attendant then goes inside and shouts:)

Employee: “Anybody have a problem with a non-binary person in here?”

(Various customers reply with a, “No.” The attendant comes back out.)

Employee: “Come on inside. No one’s going to report you.”

(I went back a couple months later when the escalators were working, and that same first employee saw me and asked which fitting room I preferred to use that day.)

(I work at an amusement park as a ride operator. We have a rule where we can’t allow anyone who seems upset or terrified to ride. As I’m checking restraints, I notice a little girl who looks extremely scared.)

Me: “Hey, is everything okay? Do you want to ride?”

Girl: “I don’t know. I’m scared.”

Girl’s Mom: “Don’t let her off. She’s going to ride.”

Me: “If she’s too upset or doesn’t want to ride, we can’t make her ride.”

Girl’s Mom: “No! You can’t let her off! She’s going to ride!”

Me: “Again, it’s up to her. We can’t let people who are extremely upset ride for safety reasons.” *to the girl* “Do you want to get off?”

Girl: “I don’t know yet.”

Me: “Okay, tell you what: I’m going to finish checking restraints and then come back so you have some time to think about it.”

(I finish checking restraints and come back to her. She’s still undecided.)

Me: “I promise, this is a super fun ride, and if you don’t like it, it’s so short it’ll be over before you know it. Do you want to give it a try?”

(She nodded, so I went to my position and started the ride. After it cycled I watched her train come in because I was curious to see if she liked it. Her mom was slumped over in her seat clutching her stomach, and the girl was clapping with the biggest smile on her face.)

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While I never really got on with school as a whole, there is one lesson I had that really stuck with me. It was set up as a game. The class was split into teams; each team was a country. Each country started with $500 of their local currency and some materials such as paper, scissors, or rulers. The countries had to create shapes and sell them to the world bank for profit. The trick was that countries like the USA or UK had lots of scissors and rulers, and even compasses and Protractors — curved shapes were worth more — while the poor countries had lots of paper but not much else.

The game started with the world bank taxing each nation $100 to be collected by the USA. Unsurprisingly, my team’s Ethiopian Dollars weren’t worth much and were all taken, and the US got to keep 10% of the tax. Occasionally the teacher running the game would make up arbitrary rules that more often than not benefited countries with wealth and the tools, such as closing the border to Europe so only the wealthy nations could sell to the world bank, or rejecting certain shapes which had been overproduced while still allowing the wealthy nations to sell their excess stock

Eventually I got sick of being on a losing team, took all my country’s money and materials, and bought my way into the United Kingdom. We raked in the money mass-producing circles. My best friend started to cheat, himself, by stealing from other teams; he even tried to steal from the world bank. At the end of the lesson I asked the teacher why he let us cheat, since he obviously saw me buy my way into the UK. He went on to explain that very often people in poor nations do just what I did, exploiting my nation for personal gain, or, like my friend, steal from other weak nations to improve his own all the while the richer nations reap the benefits.

The class really stuck with me as a great way to explain a lot of how the world economy works, if very dumbed down.

My dad was travelling from the Netherlands to France, by public transportation. He was going to join my mother there, who went a few weeks earlier. His trip should’ve gone like this: Tram, Train 1, Train 2 (Thalys – a French-Belgian high-speed train operator), Metros/Subway, Train 3 (TGV), Train 4 (local train), walking a bit, Ferry,  and then hello, Mom! He had done this trip for several years and this was most likely the last time he would have to make this trip.

This is how his trip went:

The tram had some scheduled maintenance, which they mentioned only a week before. They arranged a bus, but there would be delays. Dad decided to take a bus earlier than planned, just in case. He arrived in time for Train 1.

Train 1 had no delays and my dad got on the Thalys, arriving on time. The Metro was going fine, as well. Then, he got aboard his TGV (Train 2).

The TGV decided to leave one hour later than planned. No one bothered to give the passengers information, so it is unclear why. Dad realised it was going to be tight with the last ferry. On-board personnel assured him he would make it.

The next train, the local one, however, suddenly decided to have 30 minutes of delay, as well! The train personnel and an English lady — who spoke fluent French — realised it would be impossible to get my dad on that last ferry. Dad already resigned to the idea having to look for a local hotel, in a country where he didn’t speak much of the language. Maybe these people could help him find a hotel?

The train personnel called their head office, while the English lady translated. No, there would be no compensation possible, because he was going to arrive at the station and it was not their problem he will miss his ferry. The train personnel and the lady, however, both didn’t accept that answer of the head office. Some fast and “wild” French was spoken. Suddenly, the train conductor and the English lady came to my dad.

The lady explained that they would be reaching a town within a few minutes. He would have to get off there, but they had arranged a taxi, free of charge.

My dad realised that this town was about two hours away, but the lady told him not to worry, and that he’d make it.

At the town, my dad was all but thrown off the train and into the taxi. The car left immediately. Dad checked the speed of the car, and after the fourth traffic law was broken, he decided to pray that the insane driving of the taxi driver wouldn’t cause an accident.

When they reached the town of the ferry, they saw a lot of local cars in a jam. The taxi driver said they all had to get on the ferry, so not to worry! He passed them all and dropped off my dad as close as he could get, which was all but inside the ticket office.

The taxi driver helped get my dad his things, and they hurried to the ticket office. My dad didn’t have the time to properly thank the taxi driver. The ticket office employee told my dad he had made it with ten minutes to spare!

The employee also told him that because of the many people who still needed to take a ferry, they’d only just decided they would put in an extra ferry. So, even if my dad had missed the ferry, he would still have been able to go to my mom.

My dad messaged my mom, and she hopped into the car and hurried to the ferry own — without speeding and breaking laws. My dad arrived 30 minutes before she did. They were now reunited.

Dad did manage to push out thank-yous to the people who helped him, even though they were hurried ones. Thanks to the train personnel who wouldn’t take “no” from their bosses, the English lady, and the taxi driver, my dad safely reached his destination.

(We only have two bathrooms. We have signs posted that say, “Customers only; ask attendant for key,” and we are very strict on this rule. People come in a lot while we are in the middle of helping actual customers, and ask us to use the bathroom. Today a woman comes in and interrupts me as I am ringing up a customer.)

Woman: “May I have the key to the bathroom?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to purchase something before I can give you the key.”

Woman: *gets very snotty* “Well, I was going to buy something, but now I am going to take my business elsewhere!”

Me: “I apologize, but these are the rules.”

Woman: “Whatever. You’re going to lose a lot of business for this stupid f****** rule!”

Customer: *gets annoyed because I still haven’t been able to ring them up* “You have no right to speak to her like that. You’re the one who is interrupting her as she is trying to help a real customer. And you weren’t going to buy s***, just use this place as a rest stop. No wonder they have these rule: because of people like you!”

Woman: “It’s still a stupid rule!” *now embarrassed, storms out to her car*