I have worked over two years for a well-known UK supermarket delivering groceries to customers at home. Over these last two years, I’ve gone from positive and energetic about my job to somewhat sad and jaded. This does not mean I don’t do my best work; it just means that I have lost a lot of enthusiasm for the work itself and the good bits are outweighed by the bad bits now.

But today was a good day. First off, I want to say that if you are getting a grocery delivery, generally, keeping your pets locked away is helpful, since not everyone likes cats and dogs and may even have allergies. But I love cats and dogs, and I don’t have allergies!

My third delivery of the morning came with instructions, “We have dogs and cats; they are friendly.” I greeted the customer, who invited me inside, and the dogs came rushing up past their owner to greet the strange new human in their home. There were tails wagging and lots of excited pants. I greeted the dogs enthusiastically. The customer even invited me to stay for a few minutes to play with the dogs, and the cats, who, after a few minutes, decided to come and see what the fuss was about. In short, I was in fluffy heaven for five awesome minutes.

My run of good lucked followed with a later customer giving me a free latte. Another customer with pets that were happy to see me even gave me a generous tip for my work. Fun fact: the best tippers are always American. So, while I think I’m on the way out of this particular job, today reminded me that there are some really good aspects of my job!

(A young woman walks into our vet’s office with a German Shepherd.)

Me: “Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?”

Lady: “Yes, my name is [Lady] and this is Cupcake.”

Me: “I see he is here for his rabies and distemper shots.”

Lady: “That’s correct.”

Me: “I don’t want to sound condescending, but the distemper shot won’t make him nicer.”

Lady: “Oh, I know that… Do people actually believe that?”

(I’m a little shocked by this.)

Me: “Unfortunately, you’re one of the few people I’ve met that hasn’t said, ‘When will it make my pet nicer?’”

Lady: “I’m sorry you guys have to deal with knuckleheads like that.”

Me: “It’s okay. Every job has its risks.”

(I wish I could’ve given her a discount. I found out later that she is a service dog trainer. My niece is blind, and Cupcake became her service dog after she learned how to use a cane.)

(I’m a cashier at a superstore, and it kills me when people hand me cold or frozen items they don’t want. I cannot leave, nor can I call anyone, so that food is definitely going to spoil. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to ask the customers to return the items, either. This is why it always brings a smile when people run the items back themselves. It may hold up the line for a little, but that is worth not wasting food. The following happens to be a very unusual instance of customer consideration:)

Customer: “Oh! Just hang on a sec while I grab a soda!”

Me: “Sure!” *the powered cooler is a few feet away*

Customer: *starts laughing*

Me: “Ma’am?”

Customer: “It looks like someone didn’t want their milk.”

Me: *leaves the register for a moment to look* “Oh, my!”

(A container of milk was sitting amongst the sodas. After a bit of a laugh, the customer and I returned to my station and I finished checking them out. Thanks for preserving the milk, random customer!)

(I am a volunteer at a no-kill pet shelter. A few weeks ago, a couple came in with the angriest cat we had ever seen. Along with a severe case of mange, he was also missing his right eye. The couple explained that their neighbors had moved and left the cat locked inside a junker car parked behind their house. Even with every volunteer working to rehabilitate him, “One-Eyed Willy” proves to be a difficult case; he bites and scratches, yowls constantly, and does not get along with other male cats. We resign to having him as a permanent resident. One week, I arrive to find that One-Eyed Willy is missing from the cat room. A fellow volunteer explains that he’s been adopted over the weekend. The general consensus is that he has been taken in as a charity case and will be returned when the new owner finds him too difficult to handle. Terrified that whoever this person is will ruin a month of hard work, I can do nothing but wait until they return for his neutering appointment in two weeks. I am working the front desk when a young woman approaches me. She does not have a kennel, but has a cat tucked into her jacket.)

Woman: “Hi! I’m here to drop off Creampuff for his appointment?”

(As any adopted cats are referred to by their new names, it takes me a second to realize that she’s holding One-Eyed Willy! He is purring up a storm, curled up in her arms like a baby. While we go over the paperwork, I notice that he is wearing a hand-knit vest to cover his mange spots. With my heart already melting, I get talking to her.)

Me: “So, has he been behaving himself?”

Woman: “Oh, he’s the best cat in the world! I have a teensy bit of trouble sometimes when I need to go to the store, though.”

(She unzips her jacket and sets One-Eyed Willy on the counter. Immediately, he begins to whine like a baby. She picks him up and he stops.)

Woman: *while giggling and smothering him in kisses* “It’s a good thing I work from home, or I’d be evicted!”

(It isn’t easy working at a shelter, but times like this make it all worth it!)

I’m a customer in a pharmacy in Berlin, behind an older man. I don’t speak German as I’m just a tourist, but he is very obviously driving the cashier crazy, pointing to everything five times and asking the price, wasting her time by debating the price, raising his voice, and flailing his arms about. Even though I can’t understand a word he is saying, his rudeness is clear! The cashier is doing a great job of staying calm, but he is visibly upsetting her.

When he finally leaves — some five minutes later, only having purchased one thing — I approach the register, smile, and roll my eyes. As she serves me, she chats away about the customer — made obvious from the things she points to while talking — and it’s clear from the relief on her face that she just needs to unload on someone who understands. I smile and nod and laugh when she laughs, and say, “Ja,” a couple of times, and she seems much calmer and happy by the end of the transaction.

Dear cashier, even though I didn’t understand a word you said, our conversation was wonderful and friendly; we both speak the universal language of “hating bad customers”!