My supermarket sometimes has a donation trolley after the tills. The idea is that you buy an extra packet of whatever and donate it to charity. It’s a pretty good idea and the trolley gets full of food going to good causes.

As I’m waiting to pay, I see an old lady at the trolley; she is acting a bit odd and catches my eye. I watch her dig around the food, looking for something, and then take it out and put it in her own trolley.

Me: “Err, excuse me. You can’t just take that.”

Old Lady: “What are you muttering about?”

Me: “You can’t take that; that’s for charity.”

Old Lady: *Screeching* “I’m going to pay for it!”

Me: “No, you can’t pay for it; it doesn’t belong to the store anymore. You need to buy from the shelves.”

Cashier: “Look, leave it. She often does this.”

Me: “You realise you are stealing money, right? Like some sort of embezzlement or something.”

Cashier: “It’s fine. She does it all the time.”

Me: “You’re allowing her to steal from a charity and then pocketing the money. It’s not fine.”

Cashier: “Are you going to pay? It’s [total].”

I was shocked that my donations were being resold. I stopped by the customer service desk where they gave me a standard “We will look into it.” I doubted this would go anywhere, so I dropped an email to the head office.

To my surprise, someone asked for my number and called me back. They actually took things seriously and called me again, detailing every step they’d taken: new signage, training, moving the trolley, etc. 

Hopefully, those in need the most will now benefit from others’ generosity rather than an old crone who can’t be bothered to go to a shelf for her own shopping.

I am a leasing agent at a senior apartment complex. I contributed to a breast cancer research fund and received a pink ribbon pin, which we are allowed to wear. My current applicant has been huffing and tutting as she fills out paperwork, and she makes a point of never looking me in the eye. When we are finished, she tries a parting shot.

Applicant: “You know, I had breast cancer, too, but I don’t advertise it.”

Me: *With a big smile* “I haven’t had it, thankfully, but my cousin died from it, so I do what I can to raise awareness.”

She turned a few shades of red, grabbed her paperwork, and hurried off.

I like to knit and crochet during the year, and then I give the scarves and hats that I make to my aunt’s church; they organise parties for really low-income families. These parties are filled with games and activities for the children. I love helping my aunt during this time, by giving my time and knitting stuff for those less fortunate.

My brother recently started dating this girl, and to be kind, and honest, I don’t like her. She has trouble understanding personal space, privacy of others, and boundaries. She will insist that you tell her all about private affairs that you don’t want to talk about and will make it her business. She has been constantly trying to get me to date her friends that I’m not interested in. At one point, she thought I was a lesbian because I didn’t like any of the guys that she wanted to set me up with.

When my aunt talked about the church’s plan to still offer help during Christmas despite the health crisis, I told her that I had a lots of scarves and hats to give at home. My aunt was delighted and asked me to bring them to her as soon as possible. I agreed. However, the day I wanted to bring them to her, I was called to come into the office to replace a colleague.

I asked my brother’s girlfriend if she could pick up the bag with the scarves and hats that was sitting at the top of my stairs, not in my living room!

I have a seven-year-old niece who wants to be a police officer like her dad when she grows up and loves the colour pink. The more sickly-sweet pink, the better. She’s a sweet kid who doesn’t ask for much. She asked me to make her a neon hot pink hat and scarf with a white heart. I agreed and had just finished them both and left them in a drawer in my living room. I was planning to wrap them up and give them to my sister later on.

This evening, I came home from work, exhausted. I noticed my brother’s girlfriend had come by and taken the bag. “Oh, great!” I thought. It reminded me of my niece’s gifts.

However, when I went to get them, they were gone. I checked everywhere for them, thinking I had misplaced them. Then, it hit me. Maybe I had put them with the donation bag by mistake. I immediately called my aunt, but she couldn’t find them. There was no neon hot pink scarf or hat with a white heart.

I called my brother’s girlfriend in a panic. She picked up and told me that she had seen the scarf and hat. Oh, thank God, right? Nope! Turns out that my brother’s girlfriend had decided that I hadn’t given enough for charity, so she decided to snoop around my house to find some more. She took four other scarves and hats that were for other people and my niece’s gift. She also decided to rearrange my drawers because they were not clean and organised.

I put my anger on the back burner for a while, because my niece’s gift was more important for now. When I asked my brother’s girlfriend what had happened to it, she responded that she had taken it and given it to her niece because her sister was in need. To say that I was offended and pissed is like saying that fire burns.

I proceed to lose my s*** at her. How dare she? She goes through my stuff, takes my belongings, gives away my gift for my niece, and then she has the gall to give me a lecture on how I should be happy that I helped a spoiled brat who has two parents making seven figures a year? I told her that if the scarf and hat weren’t in my possession by tomorrow night, I was going to sue the s*** out of her. She scoffed and hung up. I called everyone in my family, including my brother.

Twenty minutes ago, my brother’s girlfriend brought me the scarf and hat back and apologised. She was in tears and begged me not to involve my brother-in-law, a cop. My brother-in-law — bless his heart — had swung by her house and threatened to have her arrested for thievery.

I just took my stuff back, thanked her for doing the “right” thing, and closed the door on her. I was so angry at her that I was numb inside.

My niece will have her gift, my aunt has the knitted stuff I made for her church, and my brother is now single. What a day!

This story is part of our Best Of June 2021 roundup!

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I run a free postal service for the homeless in California. There are a lot of people experiencing mental illness, so you get used to unusual behavior. A woman comes to the office.

Woman: “Hi. I’m here to pick up my check. My name is [Woman].”

Me: *Checks the mailboxes* “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t see any mail for you.”

Woman: “It should be there. I work for the CIA, and President Bush called me telling me my check was here.”

It’s 2016 and Obama is president. I just try to be nice because she’s clearly ill.

Me: “Well, have you received mail from them before? Maybe there’s a number you can call.”

Woman: “Oh, no. They communicate with me through a wire in my teeth.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything here for you.”

Woman: “It’s okay. I know it’s not your fault. I just need my money. Hope you have a good day.”

The next day, we get a telephone call. We can’t check mail over the phone due to staff shortage and overflow of clients.

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Man: “Hi, my name is [Man]. Can you check my mail, please?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we can’t check over the phone, but you’re welcome to come to the office.”

Man: “I work full-time, ma’am. I don’t have time to stand in line with all those r****ds.”

Me: *Shocked* “Sir, we don’t use that kind of language here.”

Man: “Well, I think you’re r****ded for working with them!” *Click*

To this day, I can’t get over how the lady, who was sick and suffering, managed to have more class than the “working man.”

I do virtual support work as a volunteer for the American branch of an internationally famous emergency response charity. Most of the phone calls I get on my cell phone are related to this work, to the point where I automatically answer my personal phone with the greeting for the charity.

The phone rings one Saturday morning.

Me: “American [Charity], this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

I hear a startled male voice with a heavy accent.

Caller: “What? Who is this?”

I start to sense a scammer.

Me: “This is the American [Charity].”

Caller: “This is Saturday! You are working today? This is a business line?”

I make my voice warm, comforting, and absolutely oozing sincerity.

Me: “Sir, the [Charity] is on duty all day, every day, 365 days of the year. Now, how may I help you?”

Caller: “I am so sorry! I am so sorry! Never mind!”

I should start doing this to scammers on my personal landline, as well, but I think the national headquarters would object.