Unfiltered Story #102282

, , , | Unfiltered | January 1, 2018

(It is just a few days before Christmas and I am fresh out of training as a cashier. The store is filled to the brim with customers hastily preparing for their last-minute plans. Around half-way through my shift, a middle-aged woman comes through my register, buying an assortment of items: a kiwi fruit here, some chicken there.)

Me: “So do you have many plans for Christmas this year?”

Customer: “Well, my husband died three days ago.”

(That’s when my stream of thought went blank. On the inside, I screamed to myself, “I’m not you’re psychologist; please, I’m only fifteen!”)

Me: *turning back to her groceries* “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

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