When I was in high school, we had this eccentric teacher that pretty much did his own thing, to the point that he raised a few million dollars to buy the property adjacent to the school and build a fish hatchery, which also served as his classroom. He was beloved by the students and hated by the administration.

One of his yearly traditions was called the “Bear Test,” a 72-hour “test” for his senior wildlife biology class. The idea was that the students were stuck in the wilderness and had to find their way home while being hunted by a bear. The test included, among other things, the teacher dressing up as a bear and “hunting” the students. He would go to their homes and wake them up, go to their work, and hunt them during school. Nowhere was safe. If you saw him, you had to curl into a ball, and he would come poke you a few times and then wander off.

To make sure he only hunted the right students, he had his students wear these horrible-colored shirts. It was a color that most people don’t normally chose to wear. He was color-blind, and for him, the color stood out like a neon sign.

I was in my junior year and it was the first day of Bear Season. I was leaving my first class of the day and going to my second. The Bear Test kids were in small groups of two to five, for safety, darting quickly around campus, hugging the walls and peeking around corners to make sure it was safe. In the middle of the quad was a large grassy field that one of the kids was just brazenly strolling across like he hasn’t a care in the world. Then we heard it: the loud roar of The Bear. He came charging across the quad, gleefully screaming, “I’ve got you!” as he tackled the kid a few feet away from me.

The Bear then looked down into the screaming, terrified face of a freshman who had never heard of the Bear Test before, and just happened to have very poor choice in clothes.

The kid was okay, and after that, they made sure to make freshmen aware of what was happening. I heard from my little sister that, in his senior year, the kid took his Bear Test and went hunting the Bear to take his revenge via water pistol.

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(I work at an ice-skating rink as a trainer, and I also help people who are having trouble free-skating. A girl comes in with her boyfriend, and it’s fairly obvious they’ve never skated before. They’re having a great time laughing and dancing, and even when they fall, they laugh it off and get up. I give them a few tips here and there, but I focus my work on some of the younger kids who are frightened. An hour or so later, as free-skate is ending, the girl approaches me.)

Girl: “Hi. I was just wondering if I could speak to your manager?”

Me: “Oh, of course! Let me go get him.”

Manager: “What can I do for you today?”

Girl: “I just wanted you to know that [My Name] was absolutely amazing! We had a great time, and she was always everywhere at once to help anyone who needed it. Without her, we wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun!”

Manager: “I’m glad to hear that! We don’t get many compliments in this line of work, but they really do help to gauge our performance. [My Name] is only a couple of good reviews away from a bonus!”

Girl: “So, is this one of those places that gives bonuses based on guest feedback?”

Manager: “Yes, it is!”

Girl: “And do you count the feedback based on groups or individuals?”

Manager: “Well, there’s no real way to tell if the people who have come in were part of a group or not, once you write the review down.”

(After a couple of minutes of thinking, the girl and her boyfriend each wrote a review, thanked us, and walked out. Later on that week, my manager got a call from her asking when I would be working next, and on that day she brought in nearly thirty people! My manager gave them a group discount, and they all had a great time. At the end, the girl made each and every one of them write a review for me. I ended up getting that bonus, and a promotion on top of it! If you read this, thank you so much for being so awesome!)

(I work in an auto shop. The talk of the town at work is that one of the admins is going to see her boyfriend in person for the first time in months this weekend, and has been laboriously planning every little detail to make things perfect. Discussions lead to a small cluster of mechanics around her, offering their input — totally unsarcastically — about how she should get her nails done.)

Admin: “I want to do black and pink to match my outfit, but I’m having trouble deciding.”

Mechanic #1: “Maybe French tips?”

Admin: “That’s not really my style, though. I’m thinking all black and one pink nail, or all pink and one black. What finish? Do you think I should do matte or not matte?”

Mechanic #2: “I think you should get satin. Or eggshell.”

Mechanic #1: “All pink and one black nail, though. The other way around is too heavy; more pink is more fun!”

(It was definitely one of the more sweet, adorable moments you’ll see in an auto shop.)

(A new trainee is on her first shift, under the supervision of the shift supervisor. The supervisor is called away. As I am also a supervisor, albeit not on this particular shift, she asks me to keep an eye on the trainee until she comes back. As I finish my current call, I notice the trainee getting flustered. She is trying to transfer the caller to the correct section, but, based on what I can hear from her side of the conversation, the caller is giving her a hard time about this, and is not letting her do so. I go over to see if I can help, and hear the trainee reply to the caller:)

Trainee: “Sir, do you know that all calls are recorded? If you wish to make a complaint about me, I’ll gladly pass you over to my supervisor, who will then listen to the playback of this call and will hear that I’ve been trying to help you for the last several minutes. Or, I could save us all the hassle and just transfer you through to the correct section to deal with your inquiry.” *pause* “Of course I’ll transfer you through, sir. Have a nice day.”

(This call centre didn’t actually record all its calls, as there was too high a volume of calls to make it practical. But, oh, yeah, this trainee was going to do just fine!)

(Our store primarily serves tradesmen building or renovating homes, but we’re open to the public doing DIY, too. I’ve been tasked with helping customers find the products they want. These customers are a couple.)

Me: “Hey there. Are you guys doing okay?”

Customer #1: “Yeah, we’re looking to mount a TV on the wall. It’s a bit old, though.”

Customer #2: “It’s not that old; it’s about eight years old.”

(My own TV is about the same age, so I have a guess as to what its shape is like.)

Me: “Do you know how much it weighs?”

Customer #1: “I know the mounting points are 20 centimeters apart.”

Me: “But not how much it weighs? I’d strongly suggest putting it on your bathroom scale before mounting it, in all honesty.”

Customer #1: “I think this one will be enough.”

Me: “With all due respect, sir, I’m going to tell you what I think as a person: when it comes to your home, do not settle with, ‘I think.’ Go with, ‘I know.'”

Customer #2: “You’re a really smart girl, you know that? What is it with men and just going with what they think?”

Me: “My boyfriend doesn’t do it, especially something that can cause a lot of damage if it’s done wrong.”

Customer #2: “That is why you two are in a relationship!”

(I wound up telling not only my assistant manager, who laughed, but my boyfriend, who took it as a compliment.)