(Our company is an educational publisher, and I am on a team that develops content for biology. The following occurs during a regular team meeting.)
Manager: “Where is [artist]? We invited him to the meeting right?”
Me: “I don’t know, but he’s probably somewhere drawing some snails for me.”
Manager: “Okay, so he’s just slow.”
Coworker #1: “D*** that guy; retreating into his shell.”
Me: “He’s such a slime-ball.”
Coworker #1: “That got salty fast.”
(My family has just finished having dinner to celebrate my brother-in-law’s birthday. Somehow, my brother-in-law and father start to discuss politics, making everyone else in the room very uncomfortable.)
Brother-In-Law: “At least Obama went in and got Bin Laden.”
Father: “Using strategies and policies that Bush put in place! He was against the war in the first place! Look at Syria; he made a comment about a line that they could not cross, not that I’d trust him with a potato-gun, but still—”
Me: “—WELL I DISTRUST ALL POLITICIANS, BUT I LOVE MY FAMILY! SO LET’S GO SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND CUT THE FREAKIN’ CAKE BEFORE I SMACK ONE OF YOU IN THE FACE!”
(My mom and my sisters burst out laughing. My dad and my brother-in-law are stunned for a good ten minutes.)
(I am working as an assistant manager at a retail store. A customer comes in while it is slow, so I am able to pay a lot of attention to her, and find her exactly what she wants.)
Customer: “Is it okay to pay by gift card?”
Me: “Of course.”
(I start ringing her in.)
Customer: “I hate to use it, though.”
Me: “Oh, really? Why is that?”
Customer: “My mom gave it to me for my last birthday, and she passed away two months ago.”
(I pause for a moment to make eye contact with her.)
Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that. I lost my own mom a little over a year ago, so I know what you’re going through.”
Customer: “Oh! I guess you do understand, then. Does it get easier?”
Me: “No. I still miss her horribly, and still want to pick up the phone and call her every single day. But I suppose I’m not as raw as I was. You’ll get to that point, too, though you’ll always miss her.”
Customer: “Yeah…”
(I finish ringing her up, and swipe her gift card, which pays for everything. Afterwards, I bring her bag around the counter for her, and hand it to her.)
Customer: “Can I… Can I make a really strange request?”
Me: “Sure.”
Customer: “Can I keep the gift card?”
Me: “Oh, of course you can!”
(I hand it to her. She puts it back in the envelope that bears her name, and caresses it. I can see she’s on the verge of tears.)
Me: “Right before my mom died, she gave me the package she never sent me for my birthday, which had some Avon perfume in it. I like the perfume, but I hardly ever use it, because I don’t want to have to throw away one of the last things she ever gave me.”
Customer: “Oh, so you completely understand why I want to keep this!”
Me: *eyes filling with tears* “Oh, yes, ma’am, completely!”
(We wind up chatting for close to 45 minutes, sharing stories about our moms. By the end of it, we’re both crying openly, but they’re good tears.)
Customer: “I’ve taken up so much of your time; I’m sorry.”
Me: “No, don’t apologize. I’m so glad you came in, and that you were willing to share with me!”
Customer: “Can I… Can I hug you?”
Me: “Of course you can!”
(We hugged for a long time, with both of us still crying. She thanked me profusely, and vowed to come back and ask for me especially. I never did see her again, as I quit not long after that, but it was a wonderful experience. I hope wherever she is, her grief has become less raw than it was when I saw her. I’ll always, always remember her as being one of the best customers I ever had.)
(I am about 11 years old, ordering lunch at the mall food court, from a restaurant that serves customers cafeteria style. I am alone, and there is a middle aged man in front of me in the line. I am not paying much attention to him as he reaches the register and pays, but does not immediately walk away.)
Cashier: *to customer behind me* “Just the entree, sir?”
Me: “Umm, excuse me?”
Cashier: *to me* “You need to move out of the way.”
Me: “But—”
(I realize she is not listening to me at all, and stand there bewildered as to what to do. After a few seconds, the middle-aged man chimes in.)
Middle-Aged Man: “She thought we were together. She charged me for your meal.”
Me: “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even paying attention. Here, I’ll pay you back.”
Middle-Aged Man: “Nah, don’t worry about it. Have a nice day.”
(By the time I get over my shock and try to thank him, he has already walked away without another word. Nearly ten years later I still remember and appreciate it, proving that even the smallest act of generosity can have a lasting impression.)
(I work retail for a sports store.)
Customer: “Do you have a New York Yankees football?”
Me: “A football? Do you mean a baseball?”
Customer: “No, I meant a football. Do you not have any?”
Me: “No, because the Yankees play baseball, not football.”
Customer: “Well you are missing out on a lot of market not selling that stuff.”
