I am sitting in an airport on my way to visit family up north for the holidays. I am sitting by my gate, watching all the planes as they come and go from their spaces. Next to me is a little kid, around five, and her grandmother. The kid is excitedly watching it all happen with childlike wonder when she asks a very good question.

Five-Year-Old: “Grandma, how do the planes move like that?”

Grandmother: *Very seriously* “They’re anthropomorphic.”

The little girl nodded solemnly, having learned such high wisdom. I nearly choked holding in my laughter.

A lady comes into the restaurant late at night after our cooking cut-off time.

Me: “Hi. Just to let you know, we are no longer serving food.”

She makes a face at me but still sits down at a table and orders a glass of wine. She sees that the cook is still in the back, cleaning up the kitchen after the night is over.

Customer: “Excuse me, you’re being unprofessional! I see someone in the kitchen! You lied to me; you can have him make me some food. You need to be retrained on your job.”

Me: *Smiles politely* “I’m sorry, the kitchen is closed for the night. The cook does need to go home tonight because we aren’t open all night.”

Customer: “No wonder you don’t have a real job.”

She stormed back to her table, finished her wine, and left, of course leaving me no tip — shocker. As soon as she was out of earshot, all the people at the bar verbally attacked her and commended me on keeping my cool, which felt great on its own.

But the best part? We’re in an airport, and she left her bags behind. The official protocol, which I HAD to follow, even though hers was the only and last flight out? Calling the police and having them take her bags to another terminal for inspection, meaning there was no way she had them for her flight.

It was like a movie scene where the bad guy destroyed himself. I was so happy.

Some years ago I was at the airport on work travel, chilling at a gate, not really paying attention to anything around me, when I heard someone melting down in front of me.

Passenger: “What do you mean I can’t get on this flight?”

Agent: “Ma’am, your child is over two. They have no ticket.”

Passenger: “You don’t understand. We just visited my in-laws and are making a connection here. No one checked his age when we left our home, and no one checked his age when we left my in-laws’ airport. You have to let us fly.”

Agent: “No, ma’am. Your child is over two and has to have his own seat.”

Passenger: *Getting more shrill by the minute.* “No one else cares! We have to get home. You have to let us fly. You can’t stop us now when no one else did!”

After much arguing…

Passenger: “FINE! We’ll pay for a ticket.”

Agent: “Not on this flight you won’t. We’re full.”

Luckily at this point, I was able to board. I did feel bad for the mother with the two-year-old but it’s rather unreasonable to just HOPE that no one will notice your kid is over age.

I caught a late flight one night and wound up at the rental car area. I had about a two-hour drive to my destination and work to do the next day. I was also dressed for business, which I find helps enormously in these situations.

The guy in front of me and his wife apparently had the biggest crisis of their lives in that line. I wasn’t really clear about what was happening, but it seemed like their reservation was lost, or they were dissatisfied, or something. It took a good fifteen or twenty minutes before they stomped off in a huff and I made it to the desk.

The lady at the counter and I shared a look of mutual exhaustion before I promptly gave her my name, license, and credit card. After she processed the rental, she gave me the keys and said, “Drive safely!” with a clear undertone of “Don’t get caught!”

I figured out what she meant when I got to the stall and found the brand-new Mustang she had spontaneously upgraded me to.

Little did she know, I drive like an old lady, but it’s little gestures like that that give me some hope for the world.

It is the middle of the night at our airport and most eateries are closed. Most red-eye passengers are settling for whatever the vending machines can produce. Our airline has a delayed flight coming in, so I am manning the helpdesk to assist those passengers when they arrive.

From my airline’s helpdesk, I overhear two passengers arguing in front of a cup-noodle vending machine.

Passenger #1: “Is that it? Just, candy and soda and noodles?”

Passenger #2: “Well, what did you want?”

Passenger #1: “Like, roast beef, with some mashed potatoes and gravy. Maybe some waffles.”

Passenger #2: “That’s impossible.”

Passenger #1: “Why?”

Passenger #2: “Because those aren’t replicators, and this isn’t Star Trek.”

Not a wild interaction, but enough to cause me a chuckle.