My sister used to work at an ocean-themed park at the orca stadium. When the stadium got full, it was her job to tell people that they would have to wait for the next show.

One day, after she started doing this, a man walked up to her.

Guest: *Demanding* “Let me in!”

Sister: *Politely* “Sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait for the next show.”

Guest: “You stupid j*g*boo! My wife has been holding a seat for me.”

“J*g*boo” is a racist slur for a black person.

My sister is not an a**hole. If he’d simply told her that he had a seat already, she’d have let him in. But because he was now calling her all types of terrible and racist names:

Sister: “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t come in.”

His wife then showed up and joined in with her husband.

Sister: “Please, both of you wait right there so that I can ask her manager if I can let you in.”

After all, she didn’t want to get written up for disobeying. She left the couple at the entrance and called security. She told them some of the names she was being called. She returned to the couple and said that her manager was coming to sort them. Security sent the largest black guy on staff, who, upon approaching, looked the man square in the face and said:

Security Guard: “You wanna call me a ‘j*g*boo’?!”

They were both ejected from the park and banned for life.

My wife and I had two huskies in our lives a few years before our daughter was born. The huskies were the center of attention for us. Even though kids came into the picture, their personalities never changed.

Cody loved everyone. He didn’t care if you were young, old, or in between; he wanted to meet everyone and loved the attention. Bailey was a bit timid, but she was very patient, especially with little kids in the neighborhood who always wanted to pet her. She’d just sit patiently and let everyone pet her, and when they were done, she’d get up and walk away.

Bailey was my wife’s shadow; she literally followed her everywhere. She was always at her feet, no matter what room she was in.

When my wife was about eight months pregnant, she went into labor and our daughter was born four or five weeks early. She had a bit of jaundice but otherwise was healthy. Because she was born a bit early, my wife and daughter stayed at the hospital for five days. I was back and forth between the hospital and home every day, and thankfully, the hospital was only a few minutes’ drive for us. I’d go out to visit my wife and daughter and then head back home to spend time with the dogs, walk them, and feed them.

Bailey was beside herself. She was depressed that Mom hadn’t been home for a long period of time, and I think she felt she was abandoned. She moped around, wouldn’t eat, and didn’t really want to go on walks. She would just lay around with that defeated look in her eyes.

Nearly a week later, my wife and daughter were released and we all got to come home. I told my wife that Bailey had been depressed since she hadn’t been home for the past five days and that she should go in before we brought our daughter in.

I went into the house first. I brought in blankets and clothes our daughter had been using so the dogs could smell them. A few moments later, my wife walked into the house, and I’d never seen a dog so happy before in my life. Bailey ran up to her and literally leaped into my wife’s arms — a fifty-five-pound husky leaping into her arms. My wife almost got knocked off her feet, but she kept her balance and caught Bailey in her arms. She was so happy to see my wife again. She talked and talked and danced and jumped all over the wife for about five minutes.

Once the dogs settled down we brought in our daughter and they got to meet her for the first time and say hi.

All while Bailey was with us, our daughter and eventually our son — who came around about four years later — were Bailey’s kids. She would keep their hands and face clean, and she would protect them and look over them every waking minute of her life. The kids climbed on her, and if they got too rough she’d give them a push with her muzzle to make them back off.

When people came over to see our daughter after she was born, if Bailey wasn’t familiar with them, they had to get Bailey’s permission first before they could go near her baby. If anyone didn’t get her approval, she let them know as she’d let out a deep, low growl and show her teeth if they approached the baby. New people had to sit with Bailey for a few minutes so she could vet them. Once Bailey approved of new people, she’d get up and walk over to the baby and sit there and let the new people come over to see the baby and even hold her. If anyone that wasn’t Mom or Dad was holding the baby, she was right at the person’s heels to make sure they didn’t try to take the baby anywhere out of the room.

Bailey was very familiar with my brother and she had no issues with him when he came over; she let him pick up the baby right away. He once wanted to test the theory of Bailey when he was holding his baby niece.  He picked up his niece, and he was standing in the living room with Bailey right at his heels. He walked over toward the front door, and Bailey put herself between him and the front door. He then turned around and made his way to the door leading to the garage, and Bailey, once again, put herself between my brother and the door. He did this a few times and Bailey never let him reach the door. I have no doubt in my mind that Bailey would have put her life on the line to protect the kids if came down to it.

Dogs are the best. It’s too bad they leave your lives way too soon.

I’m disabled and use walking aids. I don’t need them when I’m in a supermarket as I can lean on the trolley, but I walk fairly slowly. I’m shopping in my usual supermarket but they’ve moved things around and I can’t find the dried fruit. I spot a worker stocking the shelves.

Me: “Can you tell me where the raisins are?”

Worker #1: “I’ll show you; follow me.”

She takes off at a fairly quick pace, disappears down the aisle, and turns at the end. By the time I get there, she’s vanished. I spot another worker.

Me: “Hi, I’m looking for raisins.”

Worker #2: “Oh, we’ve moved them; come with me.”

Me: “Wait, if you just tell me—”

Too late. He’s headed off into the crowded supermarket, and I lose sight of him almost immediately. I’m pretty amused at this point and carry on shopping until I find a third worker.

Me: “Hi. I’m looking for something.”

Worker #3: “Okay, what can I help you with?”

Me: “Firstly, I can’t walk fast, so please, can you just tell me where to look? I won’t be able to follow you.”

Worker #3: “Um, okay, what are you looking for?”

Me: “Raisins.”

Worker #3: “Right this way!”

Me: “Wait! Just tell me!”

Worker #3: “I can walk slowly; I’ll show you.”

Me: “Okay, look, you’re the third person I’ve asked. I can read the aisle numbers, and I’ve got at least half a brain cell. Can you please just give me the aisle number and tell me roughly where they are? I’ll find them.”

Worker #3: “Uh, yeah, aisle eleven, about halfway down.”

Me: “Thank you!”

I did find the raisins, and I also found the first two workers. They were looking for me because when they got to the raisins and turned to show me, for some strange reason, I wasn’t there.

I am serving a lady customer who has very specific requirements for how her groceries should be bagged. Due to some sort of back problem, none of the bags can weigh more than a pound or two, and she always asks that the groceries be quadruple bagged so she can be sure they won’t break. This “uber-bag” should consist of two paper bags on the inside and two plastic bags on the outside.

On this particular day, she has decided to buy a five-pound bag of rice. I know immediately there will be nothing I can do, so I put the little five-pound bag of rice inside an uber-bag and wait for the inevitable.

Customer: “Ugh! This bag is too heavy! I told you to not make the bags so heavy! How do you expect me to carry this?!“

Me: “Ma’am, if you would like, I would be happy to rip that single bag of rice in half and put it in eight bags.”

Silence for the rest of the transaction…

I’m a police officer. One morning, I’m working patrol when my supervisor pages me on the radio and asks me to give him a call. It should be noted that one of my supervisor’s pet peeves is when people block fire hydrants.

Supervisor: “I got a guy in the lobby making a scene because his car got towed. He’s claiming it was racially motivated and wants reimbursement for the tow and to file a complaint. I checked the log and it looks like it might have been you. You tow any cars today?”

Me: “The only car I’ve towed today was a [Make] [Model] parked on [Street]. Is that the one?”

Supervisor: “That’s the one. So, why did you tow it? “

Me: “Well, the registration was expired since [date more than six years ago].”

Supervisor: “Okay, sounds like a good tow to me.”

Me: “And it was parked in front of a fire hydrant.”

Supervisor: “Oh, even better! Well, that settles that. Make sure you send me your body cam footage just in case he follows through with the complaint, though.”

Me: “Will do, but I never even saw him, so it’s all just of a car blocking a hydrant and previous damage documentation.”

Supervisor: “Perfect.”

The guy still wanted to file the complaint. My supervisor offered to sit down and review the body cam footage with him. He suddenly decided to drop the complaint, saying he must have mistaken this interaction for a prior one with a different police department.