Why isn’t this sign in every lady’s room?
The original “Ask for Angela” campaign started in 2016 in England and is known here in the U.S. as The Angel Shot. The way it works is simple if a customer asks for an Angela or an Angel Shot they feel unsafe in some way. The staff can respond by helping them to leave the place safely, or even by removing another customer who is making the person feel uncomfortable.
We spend the biggest part of Sunday in the car, driving through the neighborhood. We had noticed people were pulling out the trashcans for Monday already. Like most people, we had picked up things on the street before, but we never intentionally went out to go garbage shopping. We were hoping to find a dining chair, or maybe we would get really lucky and someone would throw an old table away.
In many ways, I live in luxury. A great luxury for me is to be able to choose the people around me. I don’t have to deal with everyone who gets put in front of my nose. I spend time with most people because I want it that way.
The man working window eleven
at the DMV wears his name around his neck
like a medal won in a war
he never signed up for. Even from here,
This is not my first rodeo, nor will it be the last, but perhaps one of the hardest. After seventeen years, we will go for a ride to the Veterinarians’ office tomorrow, and we will come back home alone. My friend, the wonderful, crazy, mischievous, loyal, breakout artist, will not be with us anymore, and just thinking about it hurts. The pain only love can create. I can feel tears building up, and quickly I remind myself how lucky we have been to have him for so long.
no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
A blogger I have never met and hardly know, made me cry. Silent, happy tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart was overflowing with gratitude, my mind puzzled by the kindness of a stranger. Sometimes it’s not just the gift itself, but the thought that counts.
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
My grandmother puts her feet in the sink
of the bathroom at Sears
to wash them in the ritual washing for prayer,
wudu,
because she has to pray in the store or miss
the mandatory prayer time for Muslims
She does it with great poise, balancing
herself with one plump matronly arm
against the automated hot-air hand dryer,
after having removed her support knee-highs
and laid them aside, folded in thirds,
and given me her purse and her packages to hold
so she can accomplish this august ritual
and get back to the ritual of shopping for housewares
“Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.”
― Andrew Boyd, The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe