(I work at a small children’s clothing store that prides itself on customer service. I’ve been working there long enough that I know generally how customers might react to different things, and can sometimes help them preemptively. A Chinese woman has just walked in with her husband and roughly three-year-old daughter, and they’ve immediately gone to the winter coats. Making a guess, I grab a couple coats that were put on hold earlier.)

Me: “Was it your mom who called earlier? Are you [Customer]?”

Customer: “Yes! How did you know?”

(The customer grabs the coats from me and speaks in Chinese while putting one on her daughter, looking at it critically and tugging at the bottom. I go and find a different style that’s shorter.)

Me: “Here, this one is shorter.”

Customer: “How did you know?”

(She switches back to Chinese, getting the girl to switch coats. The girl starts crying.)

Me: “If she really likes the other one, we can try the smaller size. I don’t think it will fit her for very long, though.”

(I hand her the smaller size in the original coat. The customer changes coats again. I think she agrees with me that it’s too small, since she switches back to the other coat. The girl is in tears again, and her mother begins carrying her while she and her husband look for something, still talking in Chinese.)

Me: “Mirror? At the back there.” *pointing*

Customer: “How did you know?”

(They find the mirror, and the girl stops crying, apparently liking this coat after all. I approach with a matching hat, gloves, and scarf. The little girl exclaims something that I assume is “kitty” in Chinese as she grabs the cat-ear hat out of my hand and tries to put it on. While her mom helps her with the hat, I grab a couple other items.)

Me: “If she likes cats, these are also good for winter.”

Customer: “How did you know?”

(Her daughter is now trying to carry all the cat-related items at once, but her little arms in the big puffy coat are making it difficult. Not seeing anything else I can help with, I go back to tidying the store until they approach the cash register, and I go back to help again.)

Customer: “Do you speak Chinese?”

Me: “No, sorry. I tried to learn once, but it was hard!”

(The customer seemed satisfied by this answer, maybe thinking I’d picked up a few words, and we had a little conversation about how different English and Chinese are while she checks out. Really, I tried and failed to learn to count in Chinese; body language and actions are just really easy to read sometimes.)

I had testicular cancer and surgery, plus radiation therapy. These treatments needed a lead box closed around my privates. At the end of the last treatment, when the nurse pulled my sheet off to remove the box, he found…

A popped-out single-use turkey thermometer indicating I was done. I had saved it from the Thanksgiving turkey just to place in my navel after the treatment.

He had to run from the room before bursting into laughter.

(I live in Germany. In my brother’s high school, it’s custom that the teacher who last joined the staff has to hold a speech at the graduation ceremony. In my brother’s case, it’s a young history teacher, and since it’s exactly a century after the beginning of the first world war, he talks about the political and societal events that led up to it. He then goes on to compare them to current events, showing potentially dangerous similar developments. Suddenly, he’s interrupted by a mother in the audience. I later find out she’s infamous for recently having adopted some far-right political views that she now preaches at every opportunity.)

Mother: *yelling loudly* “BORING! Nobody wants to hear this!”

(There’s a long moment of awkward silence. The teacher tries to carry on with his speech, visibly shaken.)

Mother: “BORING!”

(The teacher stops talking again, unsure of what to do. But then, one of the graduates stands up.)

Graduate #1: “I want to hear it.”

(More graduates rise to their feet.)

Graduate #2: “I want to hear it, too.”

Brother: “Me, too!”

(By now, all graduates are standing in support of their teacher. The disrespectful woman is bright red in the face and looks very determined. A lot of the graduates’ relatives in the audience rise from their chairs, as well. The teacher continues his speech. Some people sit back down after a while, but all graduates remain standing until the end.)

Teacher: *voice shaking* “Now, the future of this country, of our democracy, lies on you.”

(Tears well up in his eyes.)

Teacher: “I was going to say that I hope you all will grow up to be responsible, mature citizens with the courage to stand up for your beliefs. But you’ve already done that. I’m so proud of you all, and I’m proud to have been your teacher. Thank you very much!”

(The hall erupted into thunderous applause.)

(My brother goes to university while working part time in a small restaurant. His boss is a middle-aged man who constantly gets angry over the smallest things, but all in all is a good guy. His restaurant is in a mostly French-speaking area, but his French is bad and he usually communicates with his staff in English. He recently had a lot of trouble finding and keeping waiters. His wife is also sick with cancer and hasn’t got long to live.)

Boss: “Hey, [Brother], do you think you could work the night shift on Wednesday? [Other Waiter] just quit and didn’t give notice, and we have nobody to cover that shift.”

Brother: “Hm… not really. I’ve got a final exam the morning after, and I need the time to study. Can’t [Other Waitress] work it?”

Boss: “No, she’s already scheduled at her other job. You’re sure you can’t do it? It’s just…” *at this point he starts tearing up* “I would work the shift myself, even if my French is bad, but it’s my wife last chemo treatment on Wednesday and I can’t make it back in time. It won’t cure her but it will give her a little more time with us. I’d close the restaurant for the night but business hasn’t been very good lately, and I can’t afford to turn away customers. Please…”

(His boss actually starts sobbing. He’s someone with very conservative values, the kind of person who thinks men should not be seen crying.)

Brother: “Okay, I’ll work the shift under two conditions. First, I serve the customers and nothing else. I’ll bring my books and study during the down times, if there are any. And after we close, I do the bare minimum cleaning and will leave the rest to the morning guys. How is that?”

Boss: “Okay! No problem. You bring your book, and you study while you work! Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me.”

(Since then, his boss has always been very thankful towards my brother. My brother ended up not being able to study much during his shift because there were too many customers. He studied after his shift and barely passed his exam. He never did regret that decision, though. As he told me, sacrificing one good grade was worth it to bring a little peace to someone in a very difficult situation. The only thing he regrets was not being there for the wife’s funeral, as he moved to another city before she passed away.)

We just returned from the hospital after the birth of our son. The birth itself started at 5:00 pm and took over 24 hours. Naturally, even after one week in the hospital my wife is merely holding on, trying to get as much sleep at a time and generally moving like a robot with a near-dead battery.

Nevertheless, we decide to go grocery shopping; after a week in the hospital we have almost nothing fresh left at home.

The baby is not very content with the first drive in the stroller and decides that he definitely needs to be held in someone’s arms — otherwise he screams his head off — so I carry him through the store, which, of course, means my wife needs to handle all the produce.

Due to our lack of mobility we decide to use a traditional register as opposed to the self-scanning we regularly use. While my wife is very slowly putting the products on the conveyor belt, an old couple behind us simply starts to load their items on the belt, which means we can no longer place our remaining items, as the belt moves much faster than my wife. Luckily, she manages to put most of it on the belt and simply tells the cashier what’s left in the cart so she can ring it up manually.

After she manages to grab the wallet out of my pocket and pay for our stuff, we start loading the items into our stroller, which is empty due to the baby in my arms.

Naturally, the old man behind us decides it’s now his turn to bag his items, as well, and he literally pushes past my wife while mumbling, “I need to get my groceries, too, you know!”

The cashier, an older woman I never perceived as very friendly before, sternly looks at my wife and tells her to go home and sit down for a while. She literally leaves the old guy’s wife standing there waiting to pay for her items, exits her booth, and helps my wife to load the remaining items into our cart.

I have never ever seen any cashier bagging items in this country where the customer is expected to do this himself. Thank you very much for the support in our difficult situation. The longer I am a parent, the more I feel that only people who have kids themselves know how tough certain situations are.