(I am working the drive-thru at a fast food joint that is very, very popular in my town. One night, it is extremely busy, and everyone working is flustered. Just when it seems to be clearing up, the crowd from the football game shows up. Then after the drive-thru is packed, a bus of students shows up. Between the bus, the packed drive-thru, and the ice cream machine breaking (the weather is still warm at this time), my manager is at his wits’ end. The telephone rings.)

Manager: “Let it ring. We’re too busy.”

Me: *lets it ring and tries to thin out the drive-thru*

(Telephone rings again.)

Manager: *picks up the phone* “[Fast Food]. This is [Manager] speaking.”

Caller: “Yeah, hi, I would like to place an advance order. I saw the line and it looked pretty busy.”

Manager: *starting to get irritated* “I’m very sorry, but we have no time to take your order. A bus just came in and we are swamped right now.”

Caller: “That’s why I called! So I could get my food right away!”

Manager: *really pissed off now* “Well, sorry to disappoint, but there are actual paying customers here who are willing to wait for their food rather than being a little b**** and calling to order when you don’t feel like waiting. Come in and wait, if you ever grow a pair.” *slams phone down and starts to work on the machine*

Customer In Store: *to the cashier at the front* “You guys have the best boss ever.”

(We never knew if the customer on the phone ever came in or not. I guess it takes a while to grow a pair.)

(My youth pastor and I went out to lunch today to just talk about life without feeling pressure from a church setting or parents around. I’ve been venting to him about how helpless I am when my girlfriend tells me she’s having a hard time, as we are in a long-distance relationship and neither of us are of age.)

Me: “I just feel like I can’t do anything sometimes, you know? I can’t do anything to help her but tell her I love her and support her.”

Pastor: “Well, has she been thinking about leaving her parents as soon as she can? She’ll be an adult soon, right?”

Me: “Of course, but neither she nor her family have much money to move out or travel with. She even helps pay bills with money from her job.”

Pastor: “You know what? When she turns 18, I’ll pay for her bus or plane travel myself, if you can find a place to put her up. [Local LGBT+ help organization] is setting up housing soon.”

Me: “Wow, really? Thank you!”

(My pastor isn’t particularly affluent himself, so this meant an awful lot to me. My mom’s said she can stay in our extra room until she gets on her feet as well, and now it’s just a waiting game!)

I’d been at work almost 14 hours one day, and was pretty worn out. People tell me that I tend to turn rather pale when I’m tired.

I am on the road, and my wife calls me.

“Please don’t freak out, but I need you to pick up a pregnancy test. The one I used tonight said it was positive, but I want to make sure…”

I head to a local big box store, and find a multi-pack of tests, so I buy that one. My wife has wanted a baby for years, and I’m sure she’ll want to triple check.

By now I’m exhausted, but I am not stressed or upset.

I go to the cashier, and she rings up the tests, and we’re waiting for the credit card to process.

I haven’t said much to the cashier, and she seems too tired or bored to even notice me.

The cashier then glances up at my face and does a double take. She seems concerned when and stares at me for a few beats.

She suddenly looks at the bag that is holding the pregnancy tests, then back at me.

She hands me my receipt, and as fast as she can, grabs the bag with the tests, wraps the bag tightly around the box, then drops the bag into another bag trying to hide what’s inside.

When she goes to hand me the double-bagged tests, she decides to wrap the whole thing tightly back up again, and hands me everything as a tiny bundle.

I laugh a little, smile at her, and tell her I’m okay. She looks a bit sad and sheepish.

I then thank her and head home.

This was five years ago; it ended up being that the pregnancy wasn’t viable.

I still think of that cashier’s attempt at helping the quite, pale, stressed-out-looking man that I was that night, and it makes me smile…

I’d been at work almost 14 hours one day, and was pretty worn out. People tell me that I tend to turn rather pale when I’m tired.

I am on the road, and my wife calls me.

“Please don’t freak out, but I need you to pick up a pregnancy test. The one I used tonight said it was positive, but I want to make sure…”

I head to a local big box store, and find a multi-pack of tests, so I buy that one. My wife has wanted a baby for years, and I’m sure she’ll want to triple check.

By now I’m exhausted, but I am not stressed or upset.

I go to the cashier, and she rings up the tests, and we’re waiting for the credit card to process.

I haven’t said much to the cashier, and she seems too tired or bored to even notice me.

The cashier then glances up at my face and does a double take. She seems concerned when and stares at me for a few beats.

She suddenly looks at the bag that is holding the pregnancy tests, then back at me.

She hands me my receipt, and as fast as she can, grabs the bag with the tests, wraps the bag tightly around the box, then drops the bag into another bag trying to hide what’s inside.

When she goes to hand me the double-bagged tests, she decides to wrap the whole thing tightly back up again, and hands me everything as a tiny bundle.

I laugh a little, smile at her, and tell her I’m okay. She looks a bit sad and sheepish.

I then thank her and head home.

This was five years ago; it ended up being that the pregnancy wasn’t viable.

I still think of that cashier’s attempt at helping the quite, pale, stressed-out-looking man that I was that night, and it makes me smile…

It’s been a brutal winter, and we feel the pain of it late one night when I wake up to find a burst water pipe in one of the bedrooms. My mother and I spend the rest of that night and most of the next two days emptying the bedroom out and drying things out… and sadly, almost all the things in said bedroom are mine, as I was in the process of changing bedrooms when this happened. Among the items that suffered water damage are several art prints and sketches done by favorite artists, many irreplaceable.

Amid all the headaches dealing with uncooperative insurance and restoration companies, I end up contacting the artists in question to get quotes on what the damaged sketches were worth and if there’s any hope of purchasing replacements of the damaged prints. One artist replies very quickly with the following:

“Sorry to hear about the water damage. I hope things get sorted out fast for you and everything… As for the two prints just send me your address and I’ll get new ones in the mail to you as soon as I can. They’re on me.”

It was a small gesture, but I still teared up. This entire situation has been a headache for my mom and me, but one person’s act of kindness made a difficult situation more bearable.