"Walking Away": a conversation with my ATM in three parts.
ATM: Transaction complete! Can I help you with anything else?
Me [pressing button]: No thanks. I'm finished.
(1/3)
ATM: Instead of confirmation that you've logged out of your bank account before you walk away, here's an ad for a financial product you don't need.
Me: Uh, ok. I'm scanning the screen for confirmation that I've logged out.
[pause]
(2/3)
Every few years, I go a few weeks w/o shaving to see what I’m capable of.
I’m almost 4 weeks in to my latest attempt and my 11-year-old son just callled my beard “spider hair” and that’s so spot on and demotivating that I expect to shave this off soon.
“Spider hair.” Gross.
People talk to my dog and expect me to answer on his behalf, and I'm not doing it anymore, because I'm a grown-ass man with feelings and expectations for how we interact with each other.
"Such big ears! What's *your* name?"
"Doug."
At the photographer’s request, we had to destroy a limited-edition print because of a small crease in the paper. She sent a replacement.
My son (11) oversaw the destruction of this award-winner, while my daughter (14) shot and edited the video proof.
https://t.co/FU40wBqrW3
My dental hygienist might be a sociopath.
After taking the *stellar* measurements of my periodontal pockets, she could only muster “Keep up with the flossing and you should be ok. Every day.”
Lady, with that many 2s and 3s, I expected a high five and a hug. Maybe balloons.