(I am on the light rail train to work when Passenger #1 gets on playing very loud music on his phone speaker. Obviously, this makes a lot of people very irritated, but none of us speak up until about three stops later when Passenger #2, who is sitting a few seats away from me, approaches the passenger playing his music.)
Passenger #2: “Hi there! I just want to commend you.”
Passenger #1: “What?”
Passenger #2: “I just want to commend you. You’re obviously much more important than the rest of us, but you still use public transportation. That’s very good of you.”
Passenger #1: “What are you talking about?”
Passenger #2: “Oh, maybe I made a mistake. See, I assumed you’re better than the rest of us. That’s why you’re being an a**-hole, right? Instead of using headphones like a decent human being?”
(Passenger #1 told him to f*** off, of course, but a ticket inspector who got on at the next stop made him turn off his music. Passenger #2 was shaking with adrenaline when he returned to his seat and I overheard him telling his friend that he’d always wanted to tell somebody like that off.)
I have a three-hour layover and decide to order some dinner while I wait. There’s a little Asian diner that looks pretty yummy. I order my chicken lo mein and they give me a fortune cookie treat to end my meal with.
The food is great, I am feeling satisfied, and ready to see what fun my fortune cookie has waiting for me. I crack it open and of course, it’s the worst possible fortune I could have read, especially being at the airport waiting to board an international flight. It read, “it is sometimes better to travel hopefully than to arrive.” NOPE. I disagree with you, little cookie. I would much rather arrive.
I’m actually about to board my flight right now so let’s all hope I make it.
(My college roommate is from Japan, so we try to hunt down the things and foods that she has trouble finding in the US. During our sophomore year, we are in a tiny Asian market and find packets of “furikake” (flavor packets you can add to rice, which often includes dehydrated veggies, etc) in a specific brand she loves. She is so excited, she brings several to take back to the dorms. Our dorms are part of the original college campus built in the late 1800s, so there are a lot of appliances we aren’t allowed to have, and there isn’t a rice maker in the common kitchen. I really wasn’t sure how she planned to use the furikake. We get back to our dorm, and she starts carefully moving everything out of her small closet.)
Roommate: “Ah! Here it is!” *pulls out the smallest rice cooker I’ve ever seen* “Ta dah!”
Me: *surprised* “Have you had that this whole time?”
Roommate: “Un.” *says casual version of “yes” and then dives back into the closet*
(I hear her dragging something heavy across the floor, which turns out to be a 10 lb bag of rice she’d somehow managed to fit into the back of her closet.)
Me: *jaw drops* “Where did that come from?”
Roommate: “I bought it during move-in week!”
(As if everyone keeps a 10 lb bag of rice in their closet. She then pulls out a variety of other Japanese goods she’d apparently been squirreling away.)
Me: “You have a Japanese food Mary Poppins closet!”
(That night we had rice with mushroom furikake, and it was delicious.)