(I am visiting my sister in France along with my parents, but I am traveling alone on the flight back home. I need to change flights to reach my final destination with only an hour and a half to get off the first flight, complete immigration, and navigate through an airport that I don’t know to catch my next flight. This is my first time traveling alone and I don’t speak or understand French so I am a bit nervous. When I try to do the self-check-in through one of the kiosks at the airport, it gives me an error. Panicking, I flag down an airport employee to help me check in. He opens up a counter and starts to check me in.)

Employee: “I see that there is a problem at [Intermediate Destination] airport.”

Me: *already worried about the journey, and sure that I will miss my next flight* “What sort of problem?”

Employee: “Connectivity problem.”

(He continues to enter something on the screen.) 

Employee: “I will put you on a flight directly to [Final Destination]. It leaves a bit later, but will reach there at the same time.”

Me: “O-Okay…?”

(He motions for me to give him my old tickets. I don’t immediately respond as I feel like this is some sort of scam.) 

Employee: “Don’t worry; it will arrive at the same time! You will not be late for the rest of your journey.”

Me: *still not sure of what is happening but gives him my old tickets anyway* “Thank you.”

Employee: *hands me new tickets* “No problem.”

(The first thing I did after getting my new tickets was to find a board displaying flight schedules to check whether the flight he put me on was a real flight! I later realised that he must have changed my flight because there was very little time for me to catch the next one, and that was what he meant by “connectivity problem.” Whoever you are, airport employee, thanks to you I was able to reach home safely!)

(I am a 16-year-old working at my first job ever as a grocery store cashier. I get put in the express lane quite often because I am one of the few employees who does not complain about it. The express lane can be either insanely busy and backed up, or there can be long stretches of time in which I don’t have a customer. During one of these slow periods, I am observing people around me when I see a young man walking by with a shopping basket. He’s quite handsome, and since I am a bit boy-crazy, I watch him until I get a new customer. About half an hour later, he walks by again. I see that he has swapped his shopping basket for a shopping cart, but only has one item in the cart. I think it’s odd that he has only one item in the chart after a half-hour of shopping, but he has been walking quite slowly during both encounters, and I vaguely wonder if he is simply new to the store and does not know where anything is. Another half-hour later, I see him walking by ONCE AGAIN, but now he has swapped out his previous item, a large package of paper towels, for a different item. Finding it extremely suspicious that he has been walking around the store for an hour with only one item in his cart, I finally call the manager over.)

Manager: “Yes, [My Name]?”

Me: “There’s a man who has been walking around the store for close to an hour. I keep seeing him walk by, and he only has one item in his cart and never picks up a second item. It just seems really strange to me, like he might be scoping out the store.”

Manager: “Hmm… that is odd. Can you describe him for me?”

Me: “He’s in his twenties with blonde-brown hair, a red shirt, and khaki pants.”

Manager: “I’ll call security over and see if they can find him.”

(A few minutes later, I see the man walk by again, but this time he is going to the customer service counter without a basket or a cart. Confused, I start to wonder whether the store employs plain-clothes security guards. A few minutes later, the manager comes back over.)

Me: *embarrassed* “He was a security guard, wasn’t he?”

Manager: *laughing* “Yes, but good job! You noticed something strange and reported it, so I am going to give you a free lunch coupon from our hot foods sections.”

(I didn’t dare to look that handsome security guard in the eye for the rest of my shift!)

(I am a transgender teen and have just started living openly as a male. My mother’s side of the family is very open and accepting. My father’s side is full of very conservative, hyper-religious types who are a lot less positive. While he supports me, extended family gatherings can be painful. At this particular family dinner, I’m sitting with [Cousin #1], who I’ve always liked. Although she’s using my preferred name, she hasn’t directly mentioned my transition. [Cousin #2] walks over to talk to me.)

Cousin #2: “My husband says what you’re doing is evil. Don’t you dare talk to my kids about it! They are good Christians!”

Cousin #1: “That’s enough, [Cousin #2]!” *to me* “Are you okay?”

Me: *shrugs*

Cousin #1: *to [Cousin #2]* “I think your baby is crying. You should go check on him.” *to me, after she leaves* “I have to go do something. I’ll be back, okay?”

(I watch her leave, disappointed that she seems uncomfortable talking to me, but figuring she must be more like the rest of the family than I thought. She comes back a while later, holding something.)

Cousin #1: “Sorry, I’m still new at this stuff. I needed to talk to my husband and get his permission before I could talk to you. See, he’s not public about it and I don’t think I should tell anyone without checking with him first, but he sometimes lives as [Female Name]. I think it’s called being gender fluid? Anyway, I love her, and I love him, and I just want you to know that all that matters to me is that you keep your awesome personality. Also… I had to swap your Christmas gift. I got you a necklace, but this seems more appropriate.” *hands me a necktie* “Merry Christmas!”

(I go on a date with a guy I met on a dating app. Things have been great leading up to the date. We talk on the phone every night, text each other all day, Snapchat all day, etc. I am really excited for our first date. The date is going really well. We have great conversation with lots of laughs and smiles. It feels nice and I am having a good time. After finishing his food, the guy excuses himself to the bathroom. He told me ahead of time that he has IBS, so I am not worried when he takes a little longer than usual in the bathroom. But then, five minutes pass. And then ten. Finally, after fifteen minutes, our waiter brings over the bill.)

Waiter: “Here’s your bill. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

Me: “Actually, this is a really weird request, I know, but could you run over to the men’s room to check on my date for me? He’s been in there for 15 minutes and I just wanted to make sure he’s okay. He told me he has IBS, so I wanted to make sure the meal didn’t affect him poorly. I texted him, but he hasn’t responded.”

Waiter: “Not a problem! I was actually about to head over there myself, so I’ll be sure to check if he’s in there. What is his name?”

Me: “His name is [Date].”

Waiter: “Okay! I’ll go see if he’s doing okay.” 

Me: “Thank you so much.”

(The waiter leaves and heads to the bathroom. I check my phone to make sure my date hasn’t texted me back or anything, and then I play a game on my phone while I wait. A few minutes later, my waiter comes back, looking nervous.)

Me: “Did you find him?”

Waiter: “Um, I feel terrible to have to tell you this, but there was no one in the men’s room at all.” 

Me: “What? Are you sure he just wasn’t in a stall?” 

Waiter: “I checked the entire bathroom; there was no one in there. I even called his name to see if he was in there.” 

Me: *visibly upset and confused* “There must be some kind of mistake. Are you sure you didn’t go into the women’s room by mistake?”

Waiter: “Not unless y’all have urinals, too, in there.” 

Me: *fully understanding and on the verge of tears* “You all have a secondary exit over by the bathrooms, don’t you?”

Waiter: “Unfortunately, we do…” 

Me: “All right.” *trying to wipe tears away with my napkin* “Well, let me just try to settle our bill, then. You all shouldn’t have to be stiffed just because this date was a bust.” 

(I take a look at the menu, and it’s about $50. I didn’t budget for that kind of spending tonight. I budgeted for maybe $25 in case my date wanted to split the bill, which would have been fine. But I suck it up and give the waiter my card. He hesitantly takes my card and apologizes again for my unfortunate date. I’m doing my best to keep my crying under control. I text my date again to ask if something came up, maybe an emergency, something to explain why he would have left without saying anything. But when I go to send the message, it won’t go through with iMessage. We both have iPhones, so it should go through as an iMessage. I try calling him. It immediately goes to voicemail. Either his phone is off, or the more likely scenario is that he blocked my number after leaving me alone at the restaurant. I am no longer able to contain my tears. I’m humiliated. I have terrible social anxiety, so this is a horrible situation for me. At a huge, huge low, crying in public, with a bunch of strangers staring at me. Finally, my waiter returns to my table with my card.)

Waiter: “Well, I have a silver lining for you tonight. I’m not allowing you to pay for your meal tonight.” 

Me: “What do you mean? I’m sure there’s enough money on that card. Oh, I hope it wasn’t declined!”

Waiter: “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. You misunderstood me. The restaurant has decided to comp your meal tonight.” 

Me: “What? Oh, no, you can’t do that! This isn’t your fault at all! My meal was wonderful and your service was great. I don’t want you to be blamed or have to pay for this.”

Waiter: “We’ve all been there. My manager agreed that we can spare the expense of one meal tonight. You’ve been through enough. You shouldn’t also have to pay for the meal of that jerk who didn’t even have the decency to say something to your face instead of running out the back door like a coward. Not to mention I had several other customers come up to me offering to help you pay for your meal tonight after overhearing what happened. It’s on the house.”

Me: “Oh, thank you so much. I really appreciate this. You’ve definitely helped make this terrible night a little better. Please at least let me tip you.” 

Waiter: “No, ma’am. You just make it home safely tonight. And I wish you better luck in your future.”

(I stood up and hugged the waiter before gathering my things and leaving. A few people gave me encouraging smiles and one older woman whispered to me as I passed to keep my head up.)

(I call into my cellular provider to upgrade my phone and my plan. I wait on hold for over 45 minutes as the new phones have come out and a lot of people are doing the same thing. When I finally get through to a customer service representative, we go over the best options for me. We finish up close to half an hour later, as she has had to put me on hold a few times to do some setup.)

Me: “Thanks, and have a good day!”

Representative: “It will be, because my shift is done!”

Me: *looking at my watch* “That’s a random time to be done.”

Representative: “Oh, I finished my shift over fifteen minutes ago.”

Me: “You should have told me and handed me off to someone else!”

Representative: “Oh no! You were the nicest call I’ve had in such a long time!”

Me: “I… Really?”

(I had no idea what she meant until I started reading this website.)