(My partner and I, both female, are going on a five-hour train trip, and have just sat down on our designated train seats. The train is pretty crowded, but the seats in front of us remain empty until the very last minute, when an older lady comes and sits on the seat in front of my partner. The lady immediately reclines her seat all the way down, which means she’s basically laying on my partner’s lap. We exchange an incredulous look.)

Me: *to Lady* “Excuse me, but could you please not recline your seat quite so much?”

Lady: “No can do. I have a sore back, and this is the only way I can travel comfortably.”

Me: “I’m sorry you have pains, but you are seriously squishing the person behind you.”

Lady: “Are you telling me I should have to sit here in pain?!”

Me: “I am telling you that if you can’t travel without seriously inconveniencing the people around you, perhaps you should rethink your travel plans, such as use a train that has sleeping cars.”

Lady: “Don’t you understand I have pains?! Have you no decency?!”

Partner: *from between gritted teeth* “Don’t YOU understand that we have paid for these seats and you’re not letting us use them? Your sore back is not our fault, but you’re ruining our trip. You just unceremoniously forced yourself into our space without even an apology, so I’m having a hard time finding any sympathy for you.”

Lady: *sputters about young people these days, still in her near-horizontal position*

(It looks like the situation is going nowhere, but then I have an idea. I look at my partner with an evil grin and twitch my lips slightly. She immediately catches on.)

Me: “Well, then, we better make the best of this trip, baby.”

Partner: “I guess we should, honey.”

(We started kissing, and immediately the old lady made a sound of shocked disgust and put her seat up. For the rest of the trip the seat stayed up, and we didn’t hear another peep from her!)

(A friend and I unexpectedly have to take the train back from Thanksgiving break. As we wait in line to pick up our tickets, I see several large signs saying you’re required to have government issued ID to take the train. I start to panic since I don’t have any one me.)

Me: *to cashier* “I’m sorry but I don’t have any government-issued ID on me. Is there any way I could still ride?”

Friend: *to me* “Do you have your college ID? Maybe that would work?”

Me: *to cashier* “I do have my college ID but that’s not government issued…”

Cashier: “Oh, that’s fine, honey! Colleges are like the government!”

(Happily handed us our tickets.)

(I’m sitting on the train when this old man with a long white beard comes on and sits close by. He’s quite the character: leopard print top hat, huge round sunglasses, a floor-length robe, what looks like a turquoise net with ornaments on it draped over his shoulders, a carved walking stick, and a twisted horn hanging from his belt. His walker is almost as decked out as he is. A few stops later, a college-age girl gets on the train and sits a few seats away from the old man. She doesn’t notice him at first, but as soon as she does, she excitedly switches seats to sit across from him.)

Girl: “I want to sit across from you so I can look at you!”

Old Man: *without missing a beat* “I’m 736 months old!”

Girl: *as if he just imparted invaluable wisdom* “Wow! I don’t know how old I am because I don’t know how many lives I’ve had, but—” *she gets really solemn and leans forward* “—this definitely isn’t my first.”

Old Man: “Well, that’s just crazy.”

(He immediately stood up and moved to another part of the train, leaving the girl looking like she’d just been spurned by a beloved mentor.)

(I’m standing in a kiosk, looking at four Romanian Romani that have previously tried to beg for money from me. The group consists of a mother, a teen, and two children below the age of ten. They’re going to buy a cola and two biscuits. A woman approaches me.)

Woman: “Oh, look at those! They beg you for money and then they buy THAT. Shame on them.”

Me: “I know, right? That’s no dinner.”

Woman: “It sure isn’t!”

Me: “So I’m going to buy them dinner.”

Woman: *looking incredibly shocked* “What?”

Me: “Three of them are children. They have nowhere to live and nowhere to cook. They can’t buy proper food. There’s a pasta place down the road. I’ll buy them takeaway pasta for tonight.”

Woman: “Well… I…”

(Ignoring her, I told the group of my offer and was lucky enough that there was someone nearby that could translate. At least for one night, four people didn’t go hungry. Wherever you are, lady, I hope you grow some empathy.)

(My four-year-old son has just seen “The Little Prince” and loved the movie, but it has made him think about death a lot.)

Son: “Mama, when will I die?”

Me: *touching wood* “When you’re very, very old.”

Son: “Because I’m new!”