I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.
Today I was extremely close to presenting a sweet old lady her change which included a dollar bill with a big purple B and R to make it say “BONER”
So my parents just found out about my fourteen year old brother smoking weed because they found this on his window ledge. So in the middle of a huge lecture my dad decides to open the Baggie and smell it to see how strong it is. He immediately starts crying with laughter. THIS NIGGA HAS BEEN BUYING AND SMOKING FUCKING OREGANO. FUCKIN ITALIAN HERBS. SON. I CAN’T. I CANNOT. I CAN’T DO THIS.
- Television: In the criminal justice system--
- Me: SEXUALLY-BASED OFFENSES ARE CONSIDERED ESPECIALLY HEINOUS. IN NEW YORK CITY, THE DEDICATED DETECTIVES WHO INVESTIGATE THESE VICIOUS FELONIES ARE MEMBERS OF AN ELITE SQUAD KNOWN AS THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT. THESE ARE THEIR STORIES. DUN DUN.