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The top ten unwritten rules in my list:Don’t call someone more than twice continuously. If they don’t pick up your call that mean they have something more important to attend to.When your fellow colleague/ classmate/ team-mate gets shouted at please don’t stare at them. It makes the moment twice awkward.When someone drops something on the floor by mistake or drops food from the plate or doesn’t know how to use a knife/fork don’t stare at them. The same goes to people sneezing, coughing or even an uncontrollable fart. It’s an involuntary reaction.Always skip using the washroom beside the occupied one. It makes it uneasy for the person in the occupied washroom as well as yourself if you occupy the one right next to theirs.Return money that you have borrowed even before the other person remembers lending it to you. Be it $1 or $100. It shows your integrity and character. Same goes with umbrellas, pens and lunch boxes.Never order the expensive dish on the menu when someone is treating you for lunch/dinner. If possible ask them to order their choice of food for you.Don’t ask awkward questions like ‘Oh so you aren’t married yet?’ Or ‘Don’t you have kids’ or ‘Why didn’t you buy a house?’ For god’s sake it isn’t your problem.When someone makes a wrong investment and loses their money, don’t add fuel to the flames by saying ‘I knew this would happen. You should have listened to me’. Don’t make failure seem worse for anyone.Always open the door for the person coming behind you. Doesn’t matter if it is a guy or a girl. You don’t grow small by treating someone well in public.Wear ear phones when traveling on a subway or bus. Don’t make others taste your choice of good/bad music.Edit: The most important one! Don’t swipe left or right when someone hands over their phone to you for viewing the picture. And also don’t browse through their messages and call log list. Thanks!

Having spent years of my early childhood in suburbia USA, moving there again after a decade of absence didn't really trouble me much, or at least the thought of it wasn't troubling.I was wrong, apparently, because it took me only two weeks of school to get suspended. Oops.To start at the beginning, I moved around a lot growing up. I wasn't a military kid, but I was a scientist’s daughter. Even more fun, I was a medical researcher’s daughter, and the best part ever, I was an OBGYN/medical researcher’s daughter. My PhDMD mother researched genetically passed problems.This meant she got to move all around the world and study the genetic predispositions of many races, and I got to live in six different places by the time I was sixteen. The summer I was sixteen I moved into this beautiful three story house with a large yard full of roses and Japanese maples at the end of August just before school started, and had an … interesting but eventless time shopping for supplies and stuff.The troubles began when I stepped into high school.As I mentioned, I've lived in many places, amongst them, London, Berlin, Zürich, and Shanghai, where I had lived before moving to the US again. Every girl in my classes in Shanghai had an X-acto knife in their bag. We called it stationery supplies. We used it often, to sharpen our pencils (particularly sketching pencils), and to cut many things. It was very convenient. In fact I never even thought anything of it, and took it with me to the US.So there was sixteen-year-old me, going to class with a pouch full of pens and pencils and a lovely box opener from this Japanese store called Muji.Nothing too dangerous right? I mean, it's not like I went to class wielding a chef’s knife or butcher’s knife or something.You’d think no one would think anything of it either. Except everyone thought something of it.So two weeks into school, I get called down to the assistant principal’s office and my dad is already there and the assistant principal says, “Leigh, come sit down.”My dad gives me this look that says “since when do you get in trouble at school”I don’t, I really don’t.And then all serious, my assistant principal says to my dad, “I've called you guys in here, because we’ve had multiple students and a teacher reporting Leigh using a knife”Hun??? What knife?? I don't have a knife….Oh wait… I have a piece of stationery I use to sharpen my pencils.I pulled it out of my bag and showed it to my assistant principal, and I go “do you mean this????!!!”He goes: “yes! yes! Please put it down, I'm going to have to confiscate it”Uhhhhh whaaaat? I'm beyond confused at this point, so the assistant principal points to a monitor and he plays a video about no weapons.At this my dad bursts out laughing, and I'm laughing right there along with him.It's hilarious, that such a simple piece of stationery is considered a “weapon” and cannot even be used in high school… Imagine, high school students apparently aren't capable of watching someone else sharpen their pencils with a box opener without hurting themselves.My dad actually makes this point.My assistant principal manages to admit it's kind of stupid, but says he still has to suspend me from school for two days.My dad takes me home, and I call my mom (who's still in Shanghai on her research project) and she laughs the minute I tell her.Mom by the way is a practicing surgeon, and these……the surgical blades that go on the end of handles, can be found throughout my house. She prefers to use these in place of scissors.Both mom and dad find the fact that I got suspended for sharpening my pencils with a box opener hilarious. Dad takes me out to lunch, and we go shopping at the mall. The next two days I made popcorn, watched tv shows and movies all day and ordered a bunch of take out.Mom buys me a scissors charm for my charm bracelet as a joke.To this day, we still joke about the country that lets you carry guns around, yet won't let you sharpen pencils with box openers.Ps, thanks Philip Newton for editing my hastily-written-on-the-subway answer!On a separate note,My grandmother read this and wanted to add her answer: she couldn't believe the wage gap difference between men and women. Even back when she first started working as a chemical engineer in China, she made the same amount of money a man with the same level of education and work did. To her, it's unimaginable that if education and workload and skill requirements are exactly the same, it's absurd that the paycheck is different for different genders.

I dated someone who, if we went to the movies, he’d buy tickets for us, but after that movie was over, he’d want to sneak into another theater to watch another movie. I was absolutely mortified that he’d even consider doing that. (We are both in our 50’s - I’d be soo embarrassed if we got caught.). What’s even worse is he’s a SAG member, so you’d think he’d value what buying a ticket for a movie means, and what seeing movies without paying means for his own pay and benefits. He has plenty of money, he just figured that if he’s there, he may as well check out what else is playing. If it’s good, why not stay, the seat would be empty anyhow.We went to Whole Foods for dinner, and got food from the steam table on our second date. (We never went to a real restaurant together - he never wanted to go.) I don’t remember what I got, but when we sat at the picnic tables by the parking lot to eat, he pulled out what appeared to be a cup of soup, in a soup container. He opened it, and it had soup in it, but as he ate it, I noticed there was rice, potatoes, large vegetables and large portions of meat in it, like a whole chicken leg. I asked what soup has all that stuff in it. He said he always fills a soup container with food, and pours soup over the top so the cashier can’t tell it’s not soup, that way it’s a lot less expensive than using a steam table box. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. He asked if I wanted some and I said, “No! That’s stealing! I won’t eat that!” He felt that he paid for it as soup, and if it wasn’t normally soup, it is now! Soup is broth and vegetables, sometimes with meat in it, so it was what was in the container so was all good. I really am not materialistic, and am really easy going, so going to a grocery store for dinner was fine with me. I was interested more in his company than the restaurant tab.I should have known that cheapness was his motivation for first time he asked me out. He asked me on our first date to go to a meditation with him. It didn’t dawn on me that the date would consist of sitting there with my eyes closed and being silent for an hour. It could, or could not be a good way to get to know someone. I had to drive myself there, and he showed up on his bicycle. I was pretty amused by that. Why pay for gas, right? Of course he took me to the meditation, it was free, and he didn’t have to do anything!Despite all that, I must say he had many wonderful qualities about him. His having no desire to ever splurge on anything, made him real for me - I wanted to know him, not what he can buy, because I can’t be bought. (Although I would have appreciated a card on my birthday.) But, the times we went to a counter diner, and he’d order one meal for us to share, with only tap water to drink did make me laugh. It had me scratching my head when he’d do that and dump hot sauce all over the meal after I told him I can’t handle spice, yet he still wanted me to share that plate with him. He did that a couple times, so I’d just order something else, much to his chagrin.And no, we are not dating anymore.EditMy story wouldn’t be complete without this last anecdote. After dating for a while, I let him meet my daughter. (She’s almost 16, so it’s not like she’s little). All together we went to Subway for lunch, and he ordered a half sandwich and a cup of soup. His order came out first, so he went to get a table for us.I ordered a half sandwich while he sat -my daughter had gotten her lunch ahead of me. As I was ordering and they were putting my sandwich together, he asked me if I would ask for lots of extra lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms and peppers. I thought it was weird, given I didn’t want all the extras in my sandwich. As I asked, for the sandwich stuff, the staff member got a cookie bag and started stuffing his request in it.Finally, I sat down with my pound of lettuce with a sandwich on the side, and handed him the loot bag I got for him. He said, “Oh, thanks!!” Then he laid the bag on the table, tore it open and spread it out like a plate, opened his sandwich, scraped the extra dressing he requested on it on top of the salad, and proceeded to eat it. My daughter said, “Oh, I see, it’s a salad in a bag!” laughing.It turned out he wanted a salad with his lunch, but didn’t want to buy it.