Mine’s foot-related too. Several years ago, I was sent to 3 or 4 different Asian cities for work, an assignment that would take a relatively whirlwind 7 days. I was exhausted and on the last leg of my trip, flying coach from Beijing to LA. After the usual pre-flight gauntlet of horrors, I was finally in my window…

I’m a tad late to this Pissing Contest and my story is unconventional, but ooooh welllll

I’m laughing so hard at this I’m sorry. “Sammy,I’m coming home!”

Well, I like my own feet. Because I know that they are pristine and I take care of them regularly. And they look great in really awesome shoes. Other people, not so much from what I can tell.

Holy god. I don’t have a thing with feet, at all, but someone cutting their toenails in public, much less in such a tiny, cramped space, is literally making me shudder.

I am a bit phobic about air travel. I’m the spazzy person who white knuckles the arm rest and goes into meditative breathing anytime the captain mentions it’s time to buckle up because we have some turbulence ahead. But twice now I have been seated next to the only person on the plane who was more afraid to fly than I…

I’m ignoring instructions because I DON’T PLAY BY THE RULES

Feet. It is always feet for me. I would rather see blood, guts, vomit, brain ooze falling out of someone’s ear... Feet are THE WORST. I fly economy class a lot, and it is awful for the most part (for various reasons). But I still vividly remember my first upgrade-to-first-class experience. I was so excited.…

THIS.

Fucking Kinja won’t let me star you, so I’m just going to reply. This is EXACTLY what we have done. My daughter has Down syndrome, along with an auditory processing disorder, and when she was younger, too much auditory input sent her straight into meltdown mode. The moment we saw signs of an impending meltdown, one of…

Good for you. I have two kids (one is neurotypical, one is speech delayed) and we have never let them just sit and cry in a restaurant. In one instance, when we couldn’t calm one of the kids down, my husband to said child to the car, I had our food wrapped up to go, we left a big tip and got the hell out of dodge. I…

Alas, I will remain in the greys...

Re: your last paragraph:

I am the mother of a child with Aspergers. Though he’s quite chill and polite now, he alternated between an angel and a fucking monster from the time he was born until he was four. Lest you think I’m exaggerating, he exasperated pretty much anyone who had to deal with him during one of his meltdowns.

The most offensive part of this story is that it took 40 minutes to make 3 pancakes at a diner. A DINER! DO YOU KNOW WHAT A DINER IS?! That's a goddamn travesty.

That’s really the key here: are the parents making an effort?

I live in Maine and have actually been to this diner. I think the important thing to know about Marcy’s is that it really is a hole-in-the-wall. There are maybe 5 tables and one counter that might seat a dozen. It is tiny and cramped and hot (because the griddle is 3 feet from the counter), but the food is delicious…

2 in 27 million seems not a big hazard.

Dressers don’t kill people, gravity does.

These customers remind me of the dumbest person I ever had walk through the doors of the Borders I managed after college.