I work at the reception of an administration and I meet lots of people who come to see us because they really need our services to defend their rights. Some are at the end of their life and I try to make it easier for them. I have the easy valve, I like to laugh and I like people...
One day a gentleman arrives to see a service that is received only by appointment. I look at the list and I spot a duplicate, two appointments with the same last name, same first name, and same mobile number…
I tell him that he is lucky and that I can give him a place. The guy thanks me and goes into the waiting room.
He comes out half an hour later with the banana and holds out his hand to greet me. I shake his hand and the guy says to me: "You, you're a good guy. Go to heaven!"
I answer him "Thank you, but not right away!"
The gentleman laughs and adds "No, when you're dead, in 50 years!"
In the middle of town, on a crowded sidewalk, in the middle of the night. I get out of my taxi and… I get my lower back stuck.
I find myself doubled over, unable to walk, surrounded by tourists, street food vendors, prostitutes, customers, lady-boys, coconut stalls, drunk guys... a big local resort town and me with my head between my knees, holding myself back from screaming as much as possible. And no one called to pick me up.
I take refuge in a small alley, with shop windows, sellers of clothes and handbags, masseurs, pharmacists, grocers...
And there, all the traders came out of their respective shops, at the same time. One took out a stool. Another made me tea. Another gave me chopped fruit. Two masseuses took care of me, directly in the middle of the aisle, very gently. The pharmacist gave me a pill, I never knew what it was… They were all around me, smiling and caring until I could get up and walk again.
I wanted to give them three soups. They all refused.
I left troubled and moved by so much kindness.
I can't help thinking that if it had happened in France, I could have died on the sidewalk in general indifference.
In 2005, I was at a terrace in Taipei drinking coffee with what I thought was a friend. There were also small cookies and paper napkins on the table. Suddenly a gust of wind blows the towels away. I try to catch up with them as best I can, certainly making big gestures under the interested gaze of our table neighbors. My "friend", who hadn't lifted a finger, then addressed these people in Mandarin (without knowing that I was beginning to understand this language a little) and said, "He's an idiot Frenchman". When I think back to this incident I try to convince myself that I should not have moved and that this reflection was intended not to lose face, but still!
I realized two days later (the wedding and the installation) that my ex was cheating on me. Yes, I just wanted to go to my Facebook on his computer and he has automatically connected: his exchanges with several girls jumped out at me. eyes and thus demolished all the ideals that I had of my couple that I believed to be concrete.
Youthful naivety.
I couldn't leave overnight, having committed our two families, but also many other things that seem very futile to me today. I stayed a full month waiting for some je ne sais quoi that could have shown me that all this was just a dream, or rather a nightmare, and that I was bound to wake up.
My feelings kept me from facing reality, and I tried to turn the problem around, but I couldn't find any other solution.
During this time Mr continued to play the bachelor and slept every Saturday evening and although I knew that the end was immutable, I continued to draw from his errors and his twists the courage to finally be able to slam the door, but I hurt myself at the same time, very badly. I lost 10kgs in the first two weeks, 15 in a month.
I had several blood pressure drops related to an inability to feed myself which caused me to pass out regularly, and all this failed to make him realize the harm he was doing to me.
One day, after about a month, I came to my senses and decided that I had suffered enough for someone not worth the peeling of an onion.
That day, I reversed the trend, I regained the upper hand without really knowing how I did it.
When I picked up my luggage and was about to leave, he didn't even dare look at me, he stammered full of excuses, regretted that it happened like this, valued me on my qualities, but didn't dare to look at me.
I had said to him "You know... when the boat lifts the sails, (referring to the sails that I had on my eyes) it may slow down, but it does not sink, it continues on its way, and I am this boat"
It made him tilt.
I left with my head held high, not even looking back.
What's funny is that as long as I was weak, he never looked at me, but from then on, he did everything to get us back together.
I will answer on behalf of a person who was my spouse.
It had already been 2 years since I had been dating a guy who was good from all angles: A senior executive, physically handsome, owner of a magnificent apartment, a friendly network to make you dream… Then one evening after a romantic dinner where we were enjoying each other to make love like beasts. My man came into our room, with a magnificent silk bathrobe… When he took it off, he was wearing a diaper. Yes, a real diaper similar to the one we put on babies but at his size: A diaper for incontinent adults.
After the real shock, I laughed nervously, because I thought at first that he was playing a joke on me, (My companion has a fairly developed sense of humor) … But no, he was serious and he told me confessed that he was DL: (Diaper lover) ... telling me how he had been living this secretly for years ... During his story, I saw a stain appear on his diaper ... He was pissing himself while he was talking to me, in front of me… To please him I accepted that he put a diaper on me, after drinking a good glass of alcohol and making love with… But having worked with real incontinent people… Diapers repelled me more than something else and it definitely blocked me from making love with this man… We finally parted sometime later but on good terms…
When I was 17, I went to my ex-boyfriend's house to see him. His parents were out of town and it was just him and his little brother who was 7 at the time. We sat on the couch watching Adventure Time which was something the three of us enjoyed watching, and then my boyfriend's little brother fell asleep on the couch.
My boyfriend and I started talking, then cuddling, then kissing, and after his hands got bolder and he was massaging my breasts through my shirt, we decided to retreat into his room and make love. Teenage passion was raging, it hadn't been long since he'd practically ripped my clothes off, pushed me onto the bed, and thrust himself forward. After 20-30 minutes of foreplay, we started with doggy style, before riding him and starting riding him as a cowgirl.
As we were both in ecstasy and I was breathing heavily but trying not to moan too loudly either, we both heard the question…
"What are you doing?"
I stopped the movement and immediately went to get under the blanket. There, at the door, my boyfriend's little brother was staring in wide-eyed amazement.
"Didn't you lock the door?" I whispered furiously to my boyfriend.
Not happy that we were both sitting in shock, her little brother asked again, "Why are you both naked?"
My boyfriend sternly told his brother to get out and he would talk to him later. His brother walked out into the hallway, seemingly unfazed. My boyfriend quickly got dressed and left to talk to his brother while I stayed in his room and got dressed.
I don't know what my boyfriend said to his brother to explain things, but I know we must have bribed the kid that day. In exchange for his silence to “not tell mum and dad”, we took him out for ice cream, then to buy a toy, then we let him stay up late to eat junk food.
My friend applied to be the lady-in-waiting for this ultra-rich lady.
The lady had a housekeeper, a gardener, and a chef, so the duties were to make sure the lady got around, had her meals, and had whatever she decided she needed.
The day before she was due to start work, the lady suffered a severe stroke which left her paralyzed and confined to bed. The family moved the lady from the hospital to a full-time care facility.
My friend was told to stay in the house and make sure everything was okay. The maid continued to clean, the gardener raked and shoveled, and the chef left. My friend spent 8 months housed, paid to live the high life until the ultra-rich lady died of complications from a stroke.
My friend hosted the family for Thanksgiving and Christmas while she was home and the maid was cleaning up all the messy things.
It was a memorable year. We still talk about how weird employment situations are sometimes
Slash tents of homeless migrants with a knife in the middle of winter.
These people are apparently part of a cleaning team and accompany the police on their "missions".
I would like to know the state of mind of the guys who are going to destroy the little protection and belongings of people outside and completely destitute, in the middle of winter. They have to hide behind the excuse of obeying orders and “they just had to…” much like their Nazi ancestors.
In these tents survive people who have crossed countries and seas, risking their lives, to flee war, terrorism, dictatorship. They have almost nothing left and live in inhuman conditions.
And there are low ceilings who think they are solving the problem by making them even more destitute and vulnerable. Great geniuses!
Then they go shopping at Intermarche, go home warm, watch TV and continue their mediocre little life without dreams of grandeur, nor passion.
I was a very young teacher in high school a very long time ago. I was in the yard with a group of students on a very beautiful spring day. We were talking about everything and nothing and one of my students asked me the question to know my favorite cake. I replied that it was the lemon pie.
The next day the same group comes to see me at the same time at the same place. The one who asked me the question the day before comes with a kind of box in her hands, well wrapped up.
A surprise for you sir.
A little surprised, I take off the wrapper and… Oh, a big lemon pie!
Thank you thank you. You shouldn't have, it probably cost you dearly.
Well no. The one who had asked me the question prepared it herself when she returned home the night before.
She was the best in the class, the prettiest and as you can see there, the most caring.
The pie was delicious, a real treat!
Years later, in the corridors of a hospital, I met her. She was a medical specialist and always so nice to her former teacher, she offered me her services. I didn't need it then, but it still warmed my heart.
It was the last time I saw her but her memory is still there.
it's not really an answer but once my SVT teacher was really not nice:
My neighbor was absent from the lesson before but couldn't catch up on the lesson, so I lend him my notebook so that he can copy the lesson, but the teacher saw us and threw my notebook on the floor, ripping out the page from my neighbor's notebook saying that now was not the time to do that.
And I understand it may not have been the right time, but his reaction is, I find, very exaggerated.
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Klistov
February 14, 2022