(It is a busy weekend. I have been left alone at the register during a rush. I have had several drinks spilled on myself and my register terminal, and have had countless angry customers berate me. By the time the rush dies down, I am on edge. A couple approaches my till.)

Me: “Welcome to [theater]; can I help you with anything today?”

Wife: “Our movie doesn’t start for a half hour.”

Me: “I… um… to be honest, ma’am, I don’t know what to do about that.”

(I wait for her to start swearing at me, but instead, she and her husband laugh.)

Wife: “Oh, no! We were just letting you know that we’re in no rush, and not buying anything right now. We’re not complaining!”

Husband: “We’re definitely not complainers. We’ve been behind the counter, and we understand.”

Me: “Oh, okay!”

Wife: “That’s a stupid thing to complain about, anyway! Do people actually complain about things like that?”

Me: “I’ve had stranger. A woman reported me for being too nice.”

Husband: “Well, she was just plain salty, wasn’t she?”

(They strike up a conversation with me for fifteen minutes about candy and customers, and the military pins on my lanyard. When their movie ends, they smile and wave goodbye. They completely turn around my evening, and I complete the shift in a brighter mood. A little kindness goes a long way!)

(I am a female cleaning the men’s washroom at a movie theatre. I have a large ‘closed for cleaning’ sign posted on the door. A male customer enters.)

Me: “Hi, sorry, I’m just cleaning at the moment—”

Customer: “That’s okay.”

Me: “I’ve opened the wheelchair accessible washroom across the hall. You can—”

Customer: “No, no, it’s fine.”

(He goes to a urinal and begins to unzip his fly. Admitting defeat, I begin to leave.)

Customer: “Please, I don’t want to put you out. You can go ahead and clean.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not going to stay in here while you’re using the urinal.”

Customer: “Why? I really don’t mind.”

Me: “I do.”

Customer: “Why?”

(I work in a deluxe cinema, where we provide waiting service in the screen. The trailers are on, and it’s quite loud. I’m serving an elderly couple.)

Me: “And what would you like to drink, sir?”

Husband: “Tea!”

Me: “Is that English breakfast?”

Husband: “No! Tea!”

Me: “Yes, but is that the normal English tea?”

Husband: *sighs heavily* “No! Tea!”

Wife: “He’s asking what kind of tea you want, you tit!”

Me: “Hi there, how can I help you?”

Customer: *says something unintelligible*

Me: “Pardon, sorry?”

Customer: *unintelligible* “…flat white…” *unintelligible*

Me: “Oh, a flat white? Sure, that’s $4.50, please.”

Customer: *seems to ask something unintelligible*

Me: “Pardon, sorry?”

Customer: *says something unintelligible again, irritated*

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t understand what you’re saying at all.”

Customer: “Oh! I forgot that I was talking Swedish. I wanted to know if the flat white is in a small or medium cup.”

Me: “Oh, thank goodness! I thought I was going crazy!”

(I am in the queue for popcorn. A young red-headed woman wearing a ‘Stark Industries’ t-shirt is ahead of me. She get’s her snacks and moves away.)

Cashier: “Hey, miss! Excuse me!”

(She’s fiddling with two drinks and a large popcorn and doesn’t seem to notice him calling her. He comes around the counter.)

Cashier: “Excuse me! Hey! Miss Potts!”

(This gets her and she half turns around.)

Cashier: “Miss Potts, you forgot your change.”

Red Head: “Oh, thank you!”

Cashier: “Will that be all Miss Potts?”

Red Head: “That will be all, Mr. Stark.”

(She gives him a nod and a smile and moves off. He comes back behind the counter and turns to me, then laughs. I am wearing a Captain America T shirt.)

Cashier: “And what can I get for you, Captain Rogers?”