*I have just finished hanging out with my friend and I walk her to work at a chocolate store which also sells gelato. The store is right around the corner from my house and I often wait at the bus stop out front*

Me: I’ve always wanted to come in here. Maybe the next time I feel like a treat.

Friend: *walks behind the counter* Want to sample some? I can give you a spoon. *this is a common practice and within store policy*

Me: Yeah! Can I try the salted caramel?

*Friend sets up the station and gets a spoon*

Me: I love salted caramel. I actually made my own caramel corn a few weeks ago. It wasn’t that hard to do. *I stopped talking because a customer walked in and I left with my sample*
Well, see you later!

Customer: *As I leave I can hear the customer say to my friend* Finally! Maybe you should pay attention to actual paying customers instead of giving your friends free stuff.

(At the time I was a very young female manager. One thing I’m good at is picking up languages.)

Customer in Russian: Put it in your purse! The dumb kid won’t notice!

Me in English: yeah, this dumb kid won’t notice a thing.

(I actually thought about inspiring runners after seeing them take off.)

(In my shop, there is an additional charge for having items gift-wrapped. We do wrap some in advance, but there is always a “£2 Gift wrap service” sign next to them, and we have to check the customer knows about the charge.)

A couple comes to my desk with six boxes, all pre-gift-wrapped.

Me: Ok, guys – before I start, do you know it’s £2 extra for gift-wrap?

Customers: …three for [offer]?

Me: Yes, but the gift wrap is £2 extra per box.

The couple stare at me.

Me: So it’ll be £12 more, because they’re gift-wrapped.

More blank stares.

Me, pointing to the boxes: So – 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, £12 for your gift wrap, ok?

The couple confer with each other very quietly, then look back at me. Nothing has been said to me directly. I ring the items up.

Me: That’ll be [price] altogether —

Lady Customer: WOAH!!

Me: That’s what I’m saying, guys – it’s £2 per box for the gift wrap.

Customers, suddenly understanding: Ok. We’ll get something else.

The sad thing is, this happens at least once a week.

This story is from when I am very young, probably three or four years old. My family is on vacation to Mackinac Island, an island in Lake Huron. One of the things the island is most famous for is its fudge, and at least for my family, it is an unwritten law that whenever we visit, we have to get at least two kinds of fudge.

We’re in the middle of a confectionary that sells mostly fudge. It’s crowded, given that it’s the height of the tourist season, and the line is so long that my parents let me stand by the glass barrier that separates the shop into the main area and the kitchen so I can watch a handful of workers cutting up huge slabs of fresh fudge while we wait for my parents to get to the front of the line.

I’m completely engrossed by the process, even though I’m not really tall enough to see more than what’s on the table right in front of me.

One of the workers notices how closely I’m watching what’s happening and silently gives me a small piece of soft chocolate fudge from the trimmings. To my three- or four-year-old self, this is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me.

I don’t stop smiling for hours even after I eat the fudge.

If you’re out there, kind fudge shop worker, thank you. I’ve been to Mackinac Island a few more times since, and every time I think of you and that little piece of fudge.

This story was included in our May 2020 Inspirational Roundup.

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(I work in as a cashier in a cupcake store in a mall. We have a regular customer who comes around the same time every day. She’s a very eccentric older lady who almost keeps the store afloat by herself. She likes to buy things from our store to give to other cashiers in other stores. She also likes to start and hold conversations with a staff member for almost 30 minutes at a time. I start my shift as she’s starting a conversation with my coworker. It’s company policy to wear a uniform, and i have short hair. I have my hair down, am about to put it up, when:)

Regular: Wait. Dutch girl. Look at me for a second. (She has lovely nicknames for all of us.)

Me: *I pause and look at her* Yes?

Regular: How old are you?

Me: …. 21?

Regular: OH! I thought you were like 40 or something! That’s why I never liked you! You look so much better with your hair down!

Me: *forced laugh* Well company policy! I gotta wear a hairnet!

Regular: And you know, that’s just so stupid! Hair’s gonna fall off anyway, who cares if it gets in the food?

(I proceed to put my hair up in my headband and hairnet, and go to the back to make more cupcakes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so annoyed and insulted. I know I look like a stern teacher with my hair pulled back, but really? I never liked her anyway.)