My coworker is serving a couple who just came for a coffee. Their bill comes to 16zł. They put exactly 16zł in coins on their table along with an envelope with printed, “Open to see God’s plan for you!”

My coworker huffs and collects the money, then rips the envelope in half.

Two halves of a 100zł bill fall out.

I am a non-binary lesbian and have more or less known this since I was 15, but I did not formally come out to my mother until a few months ago. When I first tried to come out to her, she’d become aggressive and angry. Later, as she mellowed out, she would frequently tell me that she loves me no matter what, but that if I changed my mind about liking girls then she’d be okay with that. If I tried to tell her how much that backhanded “support” hurt me, she’d yell at me and say I was trying to hurt her feelings. I decided not to tell her anything.

Things got better after I transferred to a school in another state. For three years, I lived on my own, became a lot more secure in my identity, and met a lot of friends who were unconditionally supportive. Last year, I moved back in with my mom for a new job that had a very supportive and progressive environment. I felt safe enough to come out on the first day, and with the exception of a few minor slip-ups, everyone from my teammates to upper management had no problem referring to me in gender-neutral terms. It made it that much more difficult to come home every night and pretend to be something else around my family.

One day, my mom and I had a huge fight. I wrote her a letter outlining my side of the issue, which included my frustration over the fact that she knew I was gay and yet insisted that I date men and acted disgusted any time I expressed even casual interest in a woman. After she read the letter, we had a talk in which I explicitly stated that I am gay and will never want to date men. She said that she doesn’t want me to be gay because she knows that will make life harder for me, but she supports me no matter what.

Fast forward to last week. I went on a few dates with a girl I’d met on Tinder and we had just made it official. When I told my mom, she reacted with disinterest and told me that I should be dating someone who was going to college and had ambition, someone who wasn’t “below” me, despite never having met my girlfriend. I didn’t want to start an argument, so I brushed it off.

The next day, I was talking to my younger sister, and she told me that she was upset that I hadn’t told her about my girlfriend. It turned out that my mom had outed me to my sister without consulting me. My sister was more supportive than I thought she would be, but it was still completely inappropriate that my mom outed me without my permission.

Last weekend, we attended the wedding of a close family member. During the reception, my 21-year-old sister was having a friendly chat with the best man, who was around 30 years old. My mom pointed out to me that they were getting awfully friendly, and I reminded her that he’s at least a decade older than her. Her response: “So?” That annoyed me, because just the week before, my mom gave me flack because my girlfriend is three years younger than me, though we’re both in our 20s.

Then, she really slapped the cherry on top of the nosy-mom cake: she said that the best man could also be a good match for me. I was furious, not just because she knew that I have a girlfriend, but we’d had a really great conversation about the letter I’d written and I had told her in completely unquestionable terms that I am a lesbian and will never want to date men. When I pointed this out, she’d just laughed it off. I want to think it’s just because she was a bit drunk, but you know what they say about sober thoughts.

Today, I happened to go to her Facebook profile — I have her muted so she never comes up on my timeline — and noticed that she’d put a “Love is Love” filter on her profile photo for Pride month. I’m upset but not surprised that she would show her “support” for social media brownie points while she doesn’t extend the same to her gay child.

I used to be bullied in junior high school by the “popular kids” back in my home country, so I have always tried to distance myself from those kinds of popular kids so as not to be bullied.

Fast forward to my university life. I do not have a job and am just living off of a piece of bread and a bowl of oats a day. I only have $20 to survive for the next two weeks. 

Out of nowhere, a classmate of mine — the popular kind of kid — whom I have never actually talked to invites me to come over to his place to cook together and have dinner with his housemates. Instinctively, I refuse, but after a bit of persuasion, I decide to come over. 

I go there and help with the cooking and they all like it! I used to cook at home, so I can actually cook pretty well. He then comes up with the idea to make this a daily routine where they all buy the ingredients and I’ll be the one doing the cooking. This really helps me a lot, since I can cut my expenses for food. 

Later on, it turns out that he actually realised that in the cafeteria, I mostly sat by myself and only had a piece of bread for lunch. Then, one day, he decided to ask me to come over for dinner. This really reminds me that there are actually good people out there, that really care about others.

I went to a private school from second through seventh grade. Each year, my school and the nearby private schools held a competition called Math Olympics. Basically, it was a Saturday where you took a math test against people in your grade, and people got ribbons for the top five scores.

I placed second in third grade, and was all prepared when the time came around in fourth grade. Like a spelling bee, there was a qualification round during class one day, where two “olympiads” and two alternates would be chosen.

The teacher passed out our tests during math time, but as people started getting to the last problem, she found that many people were asking for help. She went around just repeating, “Number 20 is a pattern,” to anyone with their hand up, dealing with other questions if they were on a different problem.

By the time my tablemate got to problem 20, I had already turned in my paper and picked up my book to read. He put his hand up, having been too involved in the first 19 problems to catch what the teacher had been saying, but there was a note on the board saying that she’d give a hint about it.

After what felt like a long time without the teacher coming over, he started waving his hand, trying to get attention. Eventually, he made small sounds when she walked by, which she did at least three times after I started paying attention. It was annoying, so I just leaned over and said, “Number 20 is a pattern.”

That, the teacher noticed. She snatched the boy’s test off the table before he could even pick up his pencil again, and told us both to stay in the room while everyone else went to lunch.

We sat there, alone, long enough to take our lunch boxes from the backpack area, eat lunch, and throw away our trash before our teacher brought back the principal.

The principal took us one at a time to tell her what happened, and I told her the truth of the situation — that the teacher had promised everyone a hint, but was ignoring my tablemate, so I told him exactly what she had been telling everyone else.

Despite explaining myself as best I could, it was deemed cheating, so neither of us were allowed to compete. I went on to win first place in later years, but I still find it unfair that I got labeled a cheater for that.

My family and I were sitting down to eat at a pretty popular barbecue joint.

In a booth a few feet away was a middle-aged couple talking to a friend of theirs over the walkie-talkie function of the gentleman’s cellphone at max volume.

The rest of the diners and staff were clearly annoyed, but the couple was so engrossed in their conversation they had no idea how ticked off everyone was getting.

Finally, my father got up and sat down right behind them, leaning over the man’s shoulder.

The man said, “Excuse me?”

My dad said, “Sorry, but I just couldn’t quite make out what you guys were saying, but since you wanted us all to hear I just had to come over.”

The couple practically ran out of there while the dining room cheered.