(My genetics biology class has a brief discussion about the double-helix structure of DNA, and of course Watson and Crick come up, along with a quick discussion of how Rosalind Franklin deserved more credit for her work. The girl behind me takes that as her cue. Every time we discuss a scientist, she sarcastically asks what his wife discovered, and loudly talks about how much men suck. I’m a woman and a feminist, but this girl is just annoying, and ignorant to boot. Finally, I’ve had enough.)

Girl: “Oh, suuure, he discovered heredity! Are you sure he wasn’t just taking credit for a woman’s work, like all those other misogynistic pigs?!”

Me: “You do realize we’re talking about Mendel, right? Gregor Mendel? Ringing any frickin’ bells?”

Girl: “Another pretentious jerk, taking credit for his wife’s work!”

Me: “Dude… Mendel was a monk.”

Girl: “So?”

Me: “As in, living in an abbey, no women around, never married! Pretty d*** sure his work was his own.”

(She went pink, and thankfully stayed quiet for the rest of the semester. The professor, also a woman, told me later that she gave me a few extra credit points for finally shutting her up.)

(Chicago is having a particularly nasty cold snap, with temperatures routinely hitting negative ten Fahrenheit, or even lower. One evening, around eight pm, I am heading out of the physics classroom when another student catches up to me.)

Girl: “Hey, you work for the biology department, right?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m a student employee. What’s up?”

Girl: “Do you know if either of the lab managers are still around?”

Me: “No, they usually leave around five. Why? Does your research lab need to borrow equipment?”

Girl: “Oh, crap! No, I accidentally left my coat and mittens in one of the classrooms, and now the door’s locked, and I’m walking home tonight.”

Me: “Which classroom? I might have the key to it. If not, I’m giving you a ride; I drove today.”

(She tells me, and sure enough, it’s a room I have access to. Thirty seconds later, I have the door open and she’s pulling her coat out of the closet at the back of the room.)

Girl: “Oh, my God, thank you so much!”

Me: “No worries, chica. It’s way, way too cold to be without a coat. You sure you don’t want a ride?”

Girl: “Nah, it’s only a ten-minute walk; it’s just too far to go without a coat in this weather. Thanks, though!”

Me: “Fair enough. Have a good rest of the night!”

(We wish each other well, and I think no more about it. Because the lab is smaller than the lecture hall, our physics class will have one early lab section, then the lecture for everyone, then one late lab section. I’m usually in the late lab section, because I’m at work earlier in the afternoon. For lab-based exams, we’re allowed one sheet of notes and formulas. The day of our final lab exam, I take off work, and spend nearly four hours typing up my notes. Two sentences from the end, the computer starts glitching and shuts off, and when I finally get it up and started again, my carefully saved document is nowhere to be seen. It’s only twenty minutes until class, and I’m fighting an anxiety attack and trying not to cry in the middle of the computer lab, when the girl from before comes over.)

Girl: “Hey, you okay?”

Me: “The computer, it ate my note sheet! And I saved the document, but it’s not on the drive, and I don’t have time to copy it out again, and oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Girl: “Here. Do you want mine?”

Me: “What? Don’t you need it?”

Girl: “No, I take the earlier lab section. I just finished up; I was coming over to print the lecture notes.”

Me: “Oh, my God, thank you! I’ll get it back to you in class Wednesday, as soon as I see you!”

Girl: “No need. You can keep it. Feel free to add any notes you need; I don’t need it back.”

Me: “Oh, man. Thank you so much!”

Girl: “No worries! Fair trade for making sure I wasn’t walking home in January without a coat.”

(I spent the next twenty minutes adding a few of my own notes and shortcuts, and managed to get a high B on the lab exam. That entire physics class was one of the friendliest I’ve ever been in, but the girl who gave me her note sheet when I was on the brink of having a breakdown totally takes the cake!)

This story is part of our Chilly Weather Roundup!

Read the first Chilly Weather Roundup story!

Read the Chilly Weather Roundup!

(It is the end of a very long day, and I am refolding all of the merchandise on the tables. I am most of the way through cleaning up the tables when a woman comes running up to a table I have just fixed, grabs a sweater, and shakes it open.)

Woman: *yelling across the store* “Hey!” *shakes the sweater in someone’s direction* “This is the one I was telling you about!”

(She then throws the sweater back on the pile and walks away. She glances back at me and smirks.)

Me: *thinking* “What the f***?”

(I work at the customer service desk of a hardware store. The returns registers are located behind the desk. There are two returns registers, but there is usually only one cashier stationed there since it doesn’t get super busy. If a line does start forming at returns, a service desk associate will step over to help out. At this specific time, I’m working the service desk alone, as the mid-shift hasn’t arrived yet. A few customers show up to make returns at the same time, so I step over to help the cashier out. The cashier and I are each in the middle of a transaction when a customer waiting in line — a customer who’s well-known, and not for good reasons — speaks up. The customer I’m currently helping is only returning a single item, and the well-known customer is the very next person in line.)

Customer: “Hey! Are you open over there for returns?”

Cashier: *looking up from her current customer* “Excuse me, sir?”

Customer: “Ugh. Are you open over there?”

Cashier: “Sir, I’m open right here, but I’m with a customer.”

Customer: “I didn’t ask that! Hey!” *I realize he’s now trying to get my attention* “Are you taking returns over there?” *pointing to my desk that has no one standing near it*

Me: “We’re taking returns right here, sir, but please give me a moment. I’m still helping this customer.”

Customer: “Ugh! That’s not what I asked you! Are you open over there for returns?”

(I look behind me at my still empty desk.)

Me: “No. I’m open right here taking returns. It will only be a moment.”

Customer: “That’s not what I asked!”

My Current Customer: “Unbelievable. I really feel for you. I worked retail for way too long, so I understand!”

Customer: *talking to himself but loud enough for us to hear* “This is just f****** bulls***.”

(The transaction that the customer was complaining through took maybe two minutes. Luckily, I was needed at the desk, and a different associate showed up to relieve me just as I called the rude customer to my register.)

(I’ve been suffering from chronic depression for most of my life, and my husband has been exceptionally patient and loving to me through my episodes. With his help, I’ve built a system that allows me to work through many of these episodes without medical or chemical help, which is especially important as I am currently nursing our infant son. Part of this system is warning my husband when I’m feeling especially emotionally raw, which we call a “blue day.”)

Me: “Love, I just wanted you to know I’m having a blue day.”

Husband: *concerned* “You okay, sweetheart?”

Me: “I’m just… stuck in this loop. I don’t even know what triggered it. I keep thinking, ‘Just go for the knife,’ and I can’t snap out of it.”

Husband: “Want me to dull the knives for you?”

Me: *caught off guard* “Wait, what?”

Husband: “Seriously! By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking, ‘Why won’t these things even cut butter?!'”

(I had to laugh as he acted out the impossible knives that couldn’t cut room temperature butter, and then got our toddler in on the fun. I’m so blessed to have someone like him!)