Bimql chhetry.

I was on the bus this morning and the driver was already a little behind schedule. Right as he was about to pull away, he noticed an elderly woman slowly making her way toward the stop. Instead of leaving, he waited. Not just a few seconds he waited a full five minutes. Other passengers started grumbling under their breath. You could feel that quiet irritation people get when their routine is disrupted by anything unexpected. But the driver just said “that’s somebody’s grandma. We can wait.” The woman finally got on board, thanked him and he told her to take her time finding a seat. And the whole vibe of the bus shifted for a moment. You don’t see that kind of patience very often anymore. It really made me realize how often we treat schedules and efficiency as if they’re more important than actual people. That driver chose kindness over the clock and it genuinely mattered.

Yesterday I took my dog, Rudy, to the park so he could touch grass and I could pretend my life is on track. Rudy is tiny, fluffy, and walks like he’s the regional manager of the entire park. Meanwhile I’m behind him looking like the exhausted intern who didn’t read the meeting brief. We’re doing our usual patrol when Rudy spots a woman with another dog. And out of nowhere, Rudy sprints toward her with the energy of someone who just got approved for a huge loan. He throws himself onto her shoes like she’s the CEO of Treats Incorporated. She laughs. She kneels. She says, “He’s adorable!” And this is the moment my brain my allegedly functional, educated brain decides to run a glitchy software update. I say: “Thanks, you too.” You. Too. I basically called a stranger an adorable dog. In public. In broad daylight. With witnesses. The whole world pauses. The wind cuts out. Even Rudy freezes like, “Bro… this is embarrassing for both of us.” I try to recover with damage control that only makes...

When you can suggest for something to happen when you order food I asked if the delivery driver could say something about Warhammer. Later I hear a loud pounding at my door and the delivery driver shouted "In The Name Of The EMPEROR, OPEN THE DOOR!" When I opened the door, we both could not stop laughing and before he left, the last thing he said was "Blood for the Blood God and Skulls for the Skull Throne." And walked away. Best experience ever

Last July, my friend Luca and I went to the beach with the simplest plan ever: tan a little, swim a little, eat something overpriced, go home. Absolutely nothing ambitious. Of course, the universe loves chaos, so that plan lasted about thirty seconds. We put our towels down right next to this giant family setup. I’m talking full beach invasion mode: umbrellas, chairs, coolers, floaties, sand toys, buckets, snacks, sunscreen, and probably a backup generator somewhere. The dad was building a sandcastle like he was defending medieval Europe, the mom was running a one-woman sunscreen department, and the kids had the energy of three golden retrievers on espresso shots. Luca leaves to grab us drinks and two minutes later everything goes off the rails. The tiniest kid, this little girl with floaties bigger than her whole body, starts toddling straight toward the water like she’s on a mission from God. The dad is too busy reinforcing his sandcastle battlements, the mom is arguing with the mid...

So I work with this woman let’s call her Mindy. Mindy is rude, sometimes funny, brings muffins to the break room… and also has one VERY unfortunate habit: She picks at her privates at work. Not subtle. Not accidental. Like full “deep in thought, staring at her computer, hand wandering south like it’s clocking in too.” The first time I saw it, I genuinely thought she dropped something. Nope. That was not an object retrieval mission. And it’s always at the MOST chaotic times. Team meeting? She’s picking. Phone call with a client? Picking. Standing next to the printer? Picking like she’s digging for buried treasure. The worst part? She makes EYE CONTACT while doing it. Like girl please, I can’t survive that kind of trauma at 9 AM. The rest of us are a silent pack. We just avoid her desk like it’s a contaminated zone

A few summers ago, my friend Federico texted me saying his family was having a casual BBQ at the park near the lake. I was tired from work but thought, hey, coke, sun, burgers why not? I arrive, and immediately I’m greeted by music, laughter, and the smell of grilled meat. People are tossing frisbees, kids are running around with popsicles, and a golden retriever is chasing its own tail. Someone waves at me and hands me a coke, saying, “Glad you made it, buddy!” I take it, thinking, wow, Federico's family really knows how to treat friends. I start helping flip burgers on the grill, chatting with a man who keeps giving me tips like I’ve done this a hundred times before. An older lady keeps calling me “sweetheart” and asking me about my job. I’m nodding, laughing, and trying to look like I belong everything feels super normal. I even help set up some chairs and hand out napkins. After like 20 minutes, a little girl hands me a plate of food and says, “You’re my favorite new uncle!” I...