I am a customer in this story. The cashier is going on break after helping me and has turned her light off. She is almost done with my order when another customer puts their five items down. There are self-service registers designed for smaller orders and several are open. The cashier notices the second customer.

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry. My lane is closed.”

Second Customer: “What?”

Cashier: “I’m going on break.”

Second Customer: *Staring blankly* “What?”

Cashier: “My lane is closed and I’m going on break.”

Second Customer: *Looks at me* “But you’re helping her.”

Cashier: “Right, because my lane was open when she joined, but now I am closed.”

The customer looks at me and then at the cashier, clearly expecting something.

Second Customer: “But you are helping her.”

I can tell the cashier internally throws up her hands.

Cashier: “Okay, it’s fine. I can help you.”

Thanks to some fun genetics, I start finding gray hairs around age sixteen. It really picks up as I enter my mid-to-late twenties, and before age thirty, my temples are mostly gray, with streaks of white throughout the rest of my head.

Since I’m a brunette, it stands out quite a bit, and while I try not to let it bother me too much and I’m too stubborn to dye it, I’m a little insecure about it.

I’m at a conference with some work colleagues in another city, and we stop at a small restaurant near our hotel for dinner. I’m picking up my food at the counter when the cashier, a young man, says, unprompted, “Your hair is really pretty!” Nothing else; he just complimented me, smiled, and handed over my change.

My colleagues asked me what I was suddenly so happy about when I walked back to the table, and I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the evening. Sometimes, little kind gestures can really make all the difference.

I work in a restaurant. Restrictions for social distancing have slowly started lifting and, as a result, we’re allowed to have up to ten people dining in. The phone rings and I answer it.

Me: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’d like to make a reservation, please.”

Me: “Certainly, for how many people?”

Customer: “Twelve.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but due to current government restrictions, we’re allowed no more than ten people dining in at any time.”

Customer: “Look, just let us in. It’ll be fine; it’s not like you’ll be caught by the cops.”

Me: “Sir, we have police officers come in quite regularly, and even if we didn’t, we still aren’t allowed more than ten people as per government restrictions.”

Customer: “Nah, it’s fine. We’ll just come and eat in; the fine is basically pocket change, anyway.”

Me: “Sir, the fine is $1600 and we aren’t going to break the rules just so you can eat out.”

Customer: “Look. Just put the reservation down for ten, and when we turn up, just tack two extra chairs on. It’ll be fine.”

Me: “Sorry I couldn’t help you today, sir.”

I hung up on him.

I work at a predator habitat center. These are questions for the facility tour leader from two very different guests.

[Guest #1] is a five-year-old girl.

Guest #1: “If I were to meet a gwizzley beah, what would be my best stwategy?”

Our tour leader experiences a renewed hope for humanity. [Guest #2] is a middle-aged woman.

Guest #2: “At what elevation do elk turn into buffalo?”

Our tour leader decided that she simply was not paid enough to have any desire to continue working.

Dear readers,

For our readers from the United States, we are approaching that loud and delicious holiday known as July 4th. To celebrate, Not Always Right is dusting off the archives to find a couple of stories from each and every US state, to give all our readers a brief but entertaining tour of The Great States Of Not Always Right!

Today: Pennsylvania – Wyoming!

Pennsylvania:

2-Dense – You’re already wearing them, buddy. You’re already wearing them.

Dog On Demand – Dude, it’s a dog, not a washing machine.

(more…)