xoemmanicole:

love-love-hereweare:

A NYC Taxi driver wrote: I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. ‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’ ‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’ ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly.. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. ‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse. ‘Nothing,’ I said ‘You have to make a living,’ she answered. ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’ I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
via Homestead Survival



because this made me cry 

xoemmanicole:

love-love-hereweare:

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:


I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

because this made me cry 

masteredgarallanpoe:

redeaddie:

cosplayisnotconsent:

A great comic telling people to stand up for their fellow fans!

You want to know how terrible that these douche bags can get? I made a Sailor Venus cosplay for my younger sister who looked amazing and proud to wear it. I made sure she wore white shorts that covered her panties and stopped where the skirt ended, (because of the horror stories we heard about perverts taking pictures up cosplayers’ skirts without consent) Turns out there were jerks trying to take pics up her skirt, but started to complain to each other that she was wearing shorts under and it wasn’t fair. SHE WAS UNDERAGE AT THE TIME OF WEARING THIS COSPLAY! Not only were they attempting sexual harassment, but ON A MINOR! Please, reblog this, spread the word, and stand up for other cosplayers if you see/hear this.

they were complaining because it wasn’t fair

masteredgarallanpoe:

redeaddie:

cosplayisnotconsent:

A great comic telling people to stand up for their fellow fans!

You want to know how terrible that these douche bags can get? I made a Sailor Venus cosplay for my younger sister who looked amazing and proud to wear it. I made sure she wore white shorts that covered her panties and stopped where the skirt ended, (because of the horror stories we heard about perverts taking pictures up cosplayers’ skirts without consent) Turns out there were jerks trying to take pics up her skirt, but started to complain to each other that she was wearing shorts under and it wasn’t fair. SHE WAS UNDERAGE AT THE TIME OF WEARING THIS COSPLAY! Not only were they attempting sexual harassment, but ON A MINOR! Please, reblog this, spread the word, and stand up for other cosplayers if you see/hear this.

they were complaining because it wasn’t fair
icecooly94:

teacupnosaucer:

whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because “Who hired a stripper” shouldn’t be the first thing said to me when I walk into a welding job.

women in trades are treated like such fucking shit. 

NO I’M STILL STUCK ON THIS WHY WOULD ANYONE SAY THIS TO A WOMAN HOLDING A BLOWTORCH

icecooly94:

teacupnosaucer:

whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because “Who hired a stripper” shouldn’t be the first thing said to me when I walk into a welding job.

women in trades are treated like such fucking shit. 

NO I’M STILL STUCK ON THIS WHY WOULD ANYONE SAY THIS TO A WOMAN HOLDING A BLOWTORCH

harperperennial:

unforgettabledetritus:

Let’s talk about libraries. Libraries! “Oh, hello, are you a person? Great, you’ve met our qualifications. Please enjoy unlimited borrowing of any number of any books. Do we not have the book you seek? Let us know and we will buy it so that you can read it. You will owe us nothing. Stay as long as you want.” Libraries are like pleasant, real-life morphine dreams.

Respect.

(Source: ddarkahn)

californicatinq:

you are lying to me if you said that you didnt sing this in your head

(Source: fyeahmovieclub)

kropotkink:

My attitude towards politics and society is constantly “angry but unsurprised”

greatfoodchallenge:

I need this in my life!!! 
Love food? Come here!

greatfoodchallenge:

I need this in my life!!! 

Love food? Come here!

futurejournalismproject:

Delete Yourself From Web Services With JustDelete.me
JustDelete.me is a directory that allows you to permanently remove yourself from different web services such as Facebook, PayPal, Amazon, etc. 
Why can’t you just go to the listed sites on your own and delete yourself that way, you ask? It’s not that easy. 
A lot of sites have dark patterns — interfaces created to trick users into agreeing to terms they otherwise wouldn’t — and JustDelete.me is designed to work around those patterns.
For example, Facebook’s Account Settings menu only offers people the option to deactivate their accounts, so many think that it’s not possible to completely delete themselves from the site; the “Delete Account” button can only be found if you hunt it down. With JustDelete.me, you can click the Facebook link and be taken directly to the “Delete Account” page without all the hassle.
JustDelete.me even color codes web services by how difficult it is to delete yourself from each site, with green being the easiest, and black being impossible. (Good luck deleting yourself from Craigslist.) 
Image: Screenshot of JustDelete.me

futurejournalismproject:

Delete Yourself From Web Services With JustDelete.me

JustDelete.me is a directory that allows you to permanently remove yourself from different web services such as Facebook, PayPal, Amazon, etc. 

Why can’t you just go to the listed sites on your own and delete yourself that way, you ask? It’s not that easy. 

A lot of sites have dark patterns — interfaces created to trick users into agreeing to terms they otherwise wouldn’t — and JustDelete.me is designed to work around those patterns.

For example, Facebook’s Account Settings menu only offers people the option to deactivate their accounts, so many think that it’s not possible to completely delete themselves from the site; the “Delete Account” button can only be found if you hunt it down. With JustDelete.me, you can click the Facebook link and be taken directly to the “Delete Account” page without all the hassle.

JustDelete.me even color codes web services by how difficult it is to delete yourself from each site, with green being the easiest, and black being impossible. (Good luck deleting yourself from Craigslist.) 

Image: Screenshot of JustDelete.me