(My sister and I go to junior high fairly near our mother’s place of work, so she will sometimes drive us in and take us to the food court in her building to buy us lunch at the sandwich shop there. My sister and I have very similar tastes and always know what we want. One day when we go in, the one employee on the sandwich line that morning is looking rather haggard while trying to sort out what the customer ahead of us wants.)

Customer: “What’s on the ham sandwich?”

Employee: “Ham, sir.”

Customer: “Yes, but what else? No butter or veggies or anything?”

Employee: “You can choose any of the veggies in the display here to put on it. We can also add butter, mustard, and mayo if you like.”

Customer: “No, I don’t like mayo. What’s on the tuna salad sandwich?”

Employee: “Tuna salad, sir.”

Customer: “Does it have mayo, too?”

Employee: *sighing* “Only if you want it to, sir.”

(This continues for several minutes until the man finally manages to place an order. He takes his food over to the cashier, and the sandwich lady, who is familiar with us by this point, smiles as we approach the counter.)

Employee: “What sandwich would you like today, girls?”

Me/Sister: *in unison* “Egg salad, please.”

Employee: “White or brown?”

Me/Sister: *unison* “White, please.”

Employee: *laying out bread for both sandwiches* “Butter, mustard, mayo?”

Me/Sister: *unison* “Butter and mayo, please.”

(The customer at the till, who had been rummaging through his wallet for change, has stopped to watch this exchange.)

Customer: “Oh, now, that’s just showing off!”

(I am in line at the local hardware store behind an older, very traditional man. The cashier is a young girl who has worked there for a few years and has quite a few facial piercings, some visible tattoos, and brightly-coloured hair. She’s always extremely polite and cheerful whenever I’m there. I noticed the man very harshly looking at her appearance.)

Cashier: “Is that all, sir?”

Customer: “What’s with all that crap in your face and on your arms?”

Cashier: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “All that metal in your face. Why? You’re kind of pretty to begin with, but that does nothing for your looks. It makes you look so ugly.”

(I can tell the cashier is getting quite uncomfortable and trying to hurry the customer out.)

Customer: “Do your parents let you do that? If so, there’s something wrong with them. And your boss should never have hired you. You look so uneducated and stupid; you’ll probably be working a crappy job like this forever. It’s obvious you never finished high school and aren’t going anywhere with your life. Do you have a boyfriend? There’s probably something wrong with him, too. I mean, you look so slutty.”

(By this time, her manager and a couple other employees have come up behind the customer, just listening to what he is saying. He doesn’t notice they are there.)

Customer: “Oh, and—”

(She cuts him off.)

Cashier: “You know, sir, there’s a little saying my mom taught me that goes, ‘If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.’ I’ll have you know I’ve worked this job for over three years and have never had a problem with my appearance. Luckily, I have a job that lets me express myself. And, for your information, I had straight As in high school, play five different instruments, speak three languages, and have been accepted to university overseas. Furthermore, sir, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my family or my boyfriend. They respect me for having enough courage to be the kind of person I want to be. Now, if you have nothing nice to say, please leave.”

Customer: *furious* “You little b****. I’m going to report you to your manager!”

Manager: “No need. I saw the whole thing.”

Customer: “Good! Then you’ll fire her right away.”

Manager: “Sir, I assure you she’ll receive a fitting consequence. Now, as for you, you are now banned from this store, am I clear? We will not tolerate the harassment of our employees. Have a nice day.”

(The man stormed out of the store, yelling all kinds of curses at the employees. He was so mad, he even forgot the items he paid for.)

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am a 22-year-old female and have always had problems with my feet, which are completely flat and also wide. I’ve been having intense pain in my left foot for a few years, and not one doctor or specialist I’ve gone to has had an explanation. Finally, I am told by a foot surgeon that I have a deformity in both feet that has caused arthritis and is the reason I am unable to walk properly. I am advised to have two metal screws implanted in my left foot to alleviate the pain and hopefully correct the structure of my foot. I go in for surgery and this happens when I stay overnight after the operation. “Nurse” is my day nurse and “Night Nurse” is the nurse assigned to give me the pain medication during the night.)

Nurse: “I’m going to take your vitals and let you get some rest. Your night nurse will come in to give you the pain medication soon. Can you swallow pills?”

(I tell her I can and expect to have no problems. Boy, am I wrong. Over the course of the night, I am pretty loopy from the anesthesia and all I want to do is sleep. A night nurse comes in to take my vitals again sometime in the night and says someone else will give me pain medication later. This repeats for some time with her and one other nurse until the morning, where I’ve recovered enough to realize I am in intense pain and nobody has given me the pain medication I need. Early the next morning, I am exhausted and crying from the pain when my parents come to see me.)

Mom: “What happened?! Why are you crying?!”

Me: *crying* “I’ve been up almost all night and nobody gave me pain medication!”

Mom & Dad: “WHAT?!”

(They track down a nurse and repeat what I’ve said.)

Nurse: “Um, a night nurse would have given you medication. You’re supposed to take it every three hours.”

Me: “Well, no one gave me anything. They woke me up to take my vitals several times and that was it!”

Nurse: “I’m going to look into this. Let me talk to the other nurses.”

(She leaves for a bit, then comes back with the night nurse who I recognize from last night. They both don’t look happy.)

Night Nurse: “We gave you medication last night. You just don’t remember it.”

Me: “You and some other nurse woke me up to take my vitals and said someone else will give me the medication. If I took the medication, I wouldn’t be in so much pain!”

Nurse: *hands me a pill bottle* “Just to make sure, these are what you’re supposed to take. Have you had these at all?”

Me: “No! I haven’t taken any pills!”

Night Nurse: “Well, did you tell someone that you needed it?”

(My parents and the other nurse just stare at her in disbelief.)

Mom: “Of course she needs it! You’re in charge of making sure she gets the medication on time!”

Night Nurse: *snotty* “She’s a big girl. She has to tell us if she needs it or not!”

(My nurse rushes the night nurse out before the situation escalates. My parents are furious and my nurse is also frustrated. I’m angry, too, of course, but more exhausted, and I just want to go home to recover in peace.)

Nurse: “I am so sorry. I had no idea this happened. There is no excuse for that. You are absolutely right: the night staff is responsible to get you that medication and they should have been keeping an eye on you.”

Me: “Can I just go home? I really don’t want to be here anymore…”

Nurse: “Unfortunately, now that I know you haven’t had any medication, I have to keep you here to catch up on the doses. I can’t send you home until I get this in your system and make sure you’re okay.”

(I was more upset by this, but I knew she had to do her job and didn’t say anything else. Over the next few hours, I was finally given the pain medication and I basically slept all day until she told me I could go home in the evening. Thanks to the night nurse’s negligence, I had to keep taking the medication for an extra few days until the pain got under control. We filed an official complaint against the nurse, but nothing has happened so far.)

(I am standing at my cash register.)

Me: “All right, that will be [price]. Debit or credit today?”

Customer: “Debit.”

Me: “All right.” *taps my debit button* “That should be ready for you.”

Customer: “Oh, I need a bottle opener for this.”

Me: “We do have those.”

(The customer grabs it and puts it in with his paid-for product. I take the item back from him.)

Me: “It costs [price].”

(He pays for his product and walks off, muttering just within hearing.)

Customer: “Jeez, can’t get anything for free anymore…”

I’ve never enjoyed going to church. I could barely keep myself awake during the services because I found the whole thing boring. I still see myself as Christian; I just don’t like going to mass. Every Sunday, my little brother and I would try our best to sleep in — or pretend to sleep in — until our parents just gave up and left without us. I celebrated when I finally got my Confirmation and they couldn’t force me to go anymore. I still went for Midnight Mass because it was a Christmas tradition, but never at any other point.

One Saturday, though, my dad pulled me aside and asked if I could go to church with mom the next day. He was doing the reading and he didn’t want to leave her alone. I didn’t really get it, but I figured that since that Sunday was Mother’s Day, I’d throw her a bone. Sure, I’d already gotten her a present, but he seemed pretty insistent.

So I went. Mom was pretty surprised, but she wasn’t complaining. I was doing my best to try and not look like I was on the verge of passing out, as usual, when about halfway through the service, I finally got a good look at my mom.

She looked like she was trying — and failing — not to cry.

That was when it hit me; this was her first Mother’s Day after her mother, my grandmama, had passed away from lung cancer. We weren’t that close, but I couldn’t even imagine what Mom had been going through all day. Immediately feeling horrible for silently treating this like a burden, I snuck in a hug and made sure she knew how much I loved her and appreciated everything she did for me. She hugged me back and finally let herself straight-up cry.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without her, even now as I’m living on my own. She doesn’t have to imagine life without her mother; she’s living it.

This story is part of our Mother’s Day 2021 roundup!

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