Today on the middle of my shift, two older ladies walked up to my counter. They ordered their drinks and then turned to the young ladies in line behind them. They said they would pay for their drinks so they could get what they wanted. I was touched. When they were at the register, I told the ladies I liked their scarves. One of the tried giving me hers, but I waved her off and thanked her anyways. When they got their drinks, she draped the scarf on one of our counter doors and said it was for me. Thank you for letting me have a great start to a wonderful new year. Bless you both.

(My brother and I are in a sporting goods store at the mall, and there is a boy about 12 riding a bike around the store at high speeds. We don’t see him at first. We are looking at some gloves and he pulls up behind us.)

Boy: *grunting* “MOVE!”

Brother: “Excuse me?”

Boy: “…Excuse me…”

Brother: “That’s a good boy.”

(We move and he continues riding around the store, nearly hitting people and babies in the strollers. There are no employees in sight to tell, and his parents seem to be gone. We stayed there for a while, then figured his parents must’ve dropped him off and the employees don’t care so we left. Really made us wonder what kind of kid rides around the store as fast as if he were outside, since the store tightly packed and there wasn’t enough room. If it were a little kid that didn’t know any better it’d be understandable but a 12 year old should know better.)

in my city, there are two Chinese restaurants that are located face to face. One of the restaurants wins an award and my sister, as a correspondent for the local branch of the regional newspaper, has to do an article about it.
A few days after the article was published, she received a call from the restaurant manager on her personal phone.
The restaurant manager: (angry) Hello, I am[name], restaurant owner[owner] and there is a problem with the article.
Sister: Uh, yes, I’m listening, what’s the mistake?.
The restaurant manager: Since I won an award, I see more and more cars in the restaurant across the street.
Sister: Uh, I don’t think I made any mistakes in the address.
The restaurant manager: Uh, no, it’s people who get the wrong restaurant. I want a new article that specifies that it is in my restaurant that you have to go, that the food is not as tasty
Sister: I don’t decide the articles, it’s[editor-in-chief of the local branch] I can give the number…, I can’t. And I can’t say that the other restaurant food is not as tasty than yours, that would be defamation.
The restaurant manager: All right, I’ll call[local branch editor]
after the call, my sister prefers to call the editor of the local branch. She explains the story.
editor-in-chief of the local branch: No problem, I’ll settle the matter if he calls. And I’m going to try to find out who gave your personal phone number, just because you don’t have an office with a phone, doesn’t mean we’re allowed to give your number.

A few days later, she had to go to the local station for expense reports (“She works mostly from home”). The editor-in-chief of the local branch met her.
The editor of the local branch: Oh, by the way, I found who gave your number. I recalled that all journalists have the right to privacy, and that if this is called a “personal” phone number it is for a reason. I also circulated a memo reminding journalists to forward the call if someone is unhappy about an article. For the pages of[ city] ,I am the one who has the last word ,sometimes with [newspaper editor] and [ publication manager] ,so people have to complain to me.
My sister: and, uh, for.
The editor of the local branch: for the restaurant manager? He called, I also told him he couldn’t call someone on his personal number. For that, he apologized, he said he didn’t know it was your personal number, but he was still upset about the article. I told him that our newspaper could not publish an apology because you didn’t make any mistakes in the article. I also told him that readers could not be forced to read an address correctly. As he insisted on having another article about his restaurant, I told him I could transfer it to the advertising department.
(best editor in chief)

Potential title: Underpants Gnomes – Step 3.

My car is parked on the side of the street and my family and I have just gotten in. While getting in I notice a guy eyeing us and walking in our general direction but I don’t pay him much attention and just focus on getting settled in. Suddenly I jump from a knock on the window next to me. I roll down the window. Note: while both Latvian ar Russian languages are commonly used in my country, both me and my wife grew up in Latvian families and consequently have only a very basic grasp of the Russian language.

Me: Hello?
Random dude: *In russian* Hello! Would you like to buy some _paplavki_?

Unfortunately while we understand the rest, neither me nor my wife know what “paplavki” means. I assume that it’s some kind of food – door to door salesmen are not common here, but usually they sell potatoes or fish or pastries or something.

Me: Sorry, I don’t really understand…
Guy: *repeats*
Me: Ehmm… what?
Guy: OK, I’ll show you.

He then gets his backpack and starts to pull something out. A moment later he presents us… a pair of green underpants. New and unused by the look of it, but still…

Me and my wife: *Stunned for a few seconds* Uhmm… thanks, but we’re not interested.
Guy: OK, bye!

10 more seconds later we dissolved into laughter and even now still can’t believe how utterly bizarre that was. I’ve had people try to sell me different things on the street, but underwear was a first!

Me: *lying on couch* Ugh.
11yo Nephew: *highly engrossed in the PS4* What?
Me: I’m trying to work up the energy to go to the bathroom. I’m old, it takes a while.
Nephew: Oh, just go in your pants.
Me: Excuse me?
Nephew: Just go in your pants. Don’t get it on the couch, though.
Me: Um, is this something YOU do?
Nephew: Yeah, sometimes. If I’m too lazy to get up and go to the bathroom.
Me: …
Nephew: …
Me: I’m so glad I don’t have a uterus…