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What are your "Rules for Life?"

Which reminds me of another unofficial rule. Act like you belong somewhere and people often won't question it.

Early on in my career, I noticed that if I was driving and needed a bathroom, while in suit and tie, I could skip the gas station and go to any office building and use the facilities with no questions asked.
 
Early in my publishing career, I noticed that if I had a workday that wasn't busy, I could walk around with a clipboard full of production schedules and just shoot the shirt with people all over the company.
 
If you're going to ride your bike on the road ...

* Assume every car is going to hit you. Ride ultra defensively at every intersection. Distracted driving is a bench and people simply don't see you sometimes.
* Wait at red lights for a beat after they turn green. At least in Richmond, red-light running is a sport.
* Learn how to properly use hand turn signals. Anything that gives a driver indication of your intent can only help you and them.
* And for the love of God, wear a damn helmet. Even a low-speed collision can kill you otherwise.
 
I learned this one painfully late (somewhat):

be nice to all the women/girls, not just the cute/attractive ones, you never know who will be friends with who.​

In college I was a bit dismissive with the less than cute ones and unfortunately discovered they may be friends with others and they will tell the others how you treated them.
 
I learned this one painfully late (somewhat):

be nice to all the women/girls, not just the cute/attractive ones, you never know who will be friends with who.​

In college I was a bit dismissive with the less than cute ones and unfortunately discovered they may be friends with others and they will tell the others how you treated them.

In college a friend (and, it turned out, compulsive liar) said that he and his buddy had double-teamed a well-known campus blonde bombshell they called a slug -- on a dorm balcony, he added. I repeated this vile gossip to at least one person.

Months later, I'm passing a dorm kitchen where some women are baking.

"Wow, smells good," I said.

"Cookies, do you want some?" a blonde said.

"Sure, thanks. My name is Alfred E. Goalmouth."

"I'm Pam Bombshell. Aren't you the guy who called me a slug?"

I haven't eaten a chocolate chip cookie since.
 
You don't tug on superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim
 

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