(I’m working in a garden center.)

Customer: “Hey, lady! Do you know something about plants?”

(I have a diploma in gardening, and been working here for five years.)

Me: “Yes, a lot actually.”

Customer: “I’m looking for a very specific plant. It’s very unique and it has flowers! And you have to feed it with water also!”

Me: “Okay… can you—”

Customer: “It’s kind of big also!”

Me: “Can you gave me a little bit more specification on that plant?”

Customer: “It has green leaves!”

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[Friend #1] is tight with money, but we all know she earns plenty of money and has some pretty big savings — no kids, good pension, she just doesn’t want to spend anything. From taking the salt and pepper packets home, to digging things out of the bin, she does it all.

Surprisingly, she actually booked herself a few days away in a hotel. We are talking about it over a few drinks

Me: “So, how was the hotel itself?”

Friend #1: “Good, actually, thanks. Quiet, and the food was good.”

Friend #2: “Did you see [Nearby Famous Attraction]?”

Friend #1: “Oh, no. The tickets were far too pricey.”

Me: “Oh, so what did you do?”

Friend #1: “We stayed in the hotel mostly. Oh, I didn’t tell you the best part! We were a bit naughty and took the towels home. They had matching dressing gowns. We had to sneak them into our bags.”

Friend #2: “Err, I think that’s stealing, [Friend #1].”

Friend #1: “I bet they have hundreds. With the prices they charge, they should be free, anyway.”

Me: “You pay by card? Might want to check they haven’t added the cost of them on after they discovered them missing.”

Friend #1: “They can’t do that! Can they?”

Turns out they can and did. The “free” towels actually turned out to be very expensive, indeed. Apparently, the hotel refused to take them back once she offered, due to hygiene reasons. When [Friend #1] complained, they threatened to let the police deal with it, instead.

She (reluctantly) paid the bill.

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(My sister and her husband are having trouble conceiving. It’s been four long and emotional years for all of us. She forgot to buy pregnancy tests last time she was out, so I offer to get some on my way over to her house. I hand over my items to the cashier.)

Cashier: *picking up pregnancy test with a gleeful smile* “Oooh! Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

Me: “…what?”

Cashier: “Are you hoping you are or hoping you aren’t?”

Me: “That is a pretty personal question.”

Cashier: “Yeah, but I’m stuck here all day with nothing to do. So I’m thinking you cheated on your boyfriend and hope you aren’t carrying some random guy’s kid!” *huge grin* “Am I right?”

Me: “They’re not for me, but that’s really none of your business.”

Cashier: *offended and hostile* “Y’know, it’s people like YOU who make the world a terrible place! Try being friendly instead of such a b****!”

Me: “Just finish ringing me up, please.”

Cashier: “I HOPE YOUR B****** KID HAS A.D.D.!”

(I work at a movie theater. It’s a Monday morning and I’m serving a young man in line.)

Customer: “Do you offer military discounts?”

Me: “The current policy is that we do not offer military discounts on weekdays, but we do on weekends. Since weekday prices are already so much cheaper, especially for matinees, we really can’t add additional discounts on top of it.”

Customer: *firmly* “Well, lemme ask you this: do you believe the minimum wage should be raised?”

Me: *confused* “Um… well, yes. Yes, I do. A little over $8 an hour is hard to live off of, especially in this economy.”

Customer: “Well, that’s bulls***. You don’t deserve more money. I just got back from being stationed in Iraq. How about you? I fought for your freedom, kid. The same freedom that you’re exercising now to tell me that my sacrifices won’t even get me a discount! You minimum wage drones don’t deserve more money.”

Me: *absolutely shocked* “I’m… I’m sorry, sir. I truly thank you for your service…”

Customer: “I want you to know I have no respect for you whatsoever. You obviously weren’t in the military, and you don’t understand the meaning of sacrifice. It’s unbelievable that after I chose to fight for your freedom, you deny me the basic dignity of recognition with a discount. Do you understand that I don’t respect you?”

Me: “I… I guess?”

Customer: “No, you tell me that you absolutely understand that I don’t respect you.”

Me: *going pale* “I understand.”

Customer: “Good.”

(He buys his tickets and goes into the theater. I’m left shocked by the exchange. An older man who was behind him in line approaches me. He gives me a warm smile.)

Old Man: “Wow. I’m sorry you had to put up with that. You know… I was in the military. Fought in Vietnam. Put up with a lot in my life. But I want to tell you… I thank YOU for YOUR service. And I have nothing but respect for you and every other person out there trying to make ends meet while being a good employee, despite dealing with a low minimum wage. Not everyone is cut out to be a soldier. But that doesn’t mean jerks like him are better than you. People like you… doing your hardest and trying to make ends meet, all while having to put up with the self-righteous people like that… you deserve as much admiration as anyone else. This world needs people of all types. We’re all in this together. We’re all heroes in our own way. So thank you. Because of you, I get to have a nice day seeing movies. You’re helping to give me happiness for a few hours. And that means a lot.”

(I was almost crying for the rest of the day. Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity after the last person nearly destroyed it!)

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(I have a math learning disability that is documented officially. It’s my senior year of high school and I’m in a math ‘trailer course’ for students who are ‘trailing behind.’ The teacher we have usually works with the ‘gifted’ class. She doesn’t hide her disdain for us, treating all of us as beneath her teaching abilities. We put up with it because we just want to graduate and we feel if we complain about her, she’ll flunk us in revenge. She is that kind of teacher. We have taken the final exam. I knew all the grades from my other classes. There is a slim chance I won’t pass my senior year, and have to take it all over again.)

Me: “Sorry for troubling you, Mrs. [Name], but have you graded my final exam yet?”

Teacher: *smiles brightly* “You passed!”

Me: “Really?! What did I get?!”

(I am excited, because I had studied REALLY HARD for the test, and hoped to do well.)

Teacher: *annoyed* “I don’t know! Once I checked your answers enough that you were sure to have made 70 per cent, I didn’t bother to grade the rest. I mean, you passed and can graduate! What do YOU care how much you got on the exam? Pfft!”

(And they wonder why kids don’t feel motivated to try hard anymore.)