(I work in a fabric store. I’m working at the cutting counter when my coworker calls for a price check. Since we’re not busy, I head over to the art canvases for her.)

Coworker: “This guest says that the 8×8 canvases are on sale for 29 cents.”

Me: “That sounds ridiculous; there’s no way that can be right. I’m looking forward to this signing error.”

(I go back to look, but the signs clearly say 40% off. Nothing says 29 cents. I scan the canvas.)

Me: “Yeah, it’s coming up $3.49.”

Coworker: “Uh, he’s headed back to—”

(As she’s talking, the customer comes around the corner. I show him the handheld.)

Me: “No, sir, these are coming up as $3.49. I don’t know where you’re getting 29 cents from.”

Customer: “No, the ones right here.”

(He leads me down the aisle to the same canvases that I scanned, just in a different place. In front of them is one of those signs that lists regular prices versus sales prices for the mathematically challenged, like myself. The first one on the list reads, “50¢ – converts to – 29¢.”)

Customer: “See? The canvases are right behind here, so that means they’re 29 cents.”

Me: *after staring at the sign, then back at him* “Sir, that sign just shows hypothetical sale prices. It’s not an actual sale sign.”

Customer: *points more aggressively at the sign* “But it says 29 cents!”

Me: “Sir, that is not the intended use of that sign.”

Customer: “Well, what in this aisle is 29 cents?!”

Me: “Absolutely nothing. These are our artists’ canvases, which run from about $3 to upwards of $20. The only thing in this store I can think of that is under $1 is our embroidery floss. The sale price on this canvas is already $3.49, and I absolutely know that our manager isn’t going to drop it to 29 cents.”

Customer: “But the sign—”

Me: “How about I call my manager?”

Customer: “Why would you—”

Me: “Because I’m not equipped to explain this, apparently. The canvas is $3.49. That sign is intended to help people calculate sale prices, not demonstrate sale prices. I don’t know how to make that clearer.”

Customer: “Fine. Thanks.”

(He walks off. I quietly get back on my radio.)

Me: “Well… that was the most pointless conversation of my life.”

(I work at a big box electronic retailer in their IT division. I’m helping a 16-year-old girl and her father. They are here to pick up the girl’s computer after a repair that did not require a data backup.)

Me: “Okay, your computer is fixed.” *shows that damage has been repaired*

Girl: “What about my pictures? Are my pictures there?!”

Me: “Yes, this was a damaged keyboard; it didn’t affect your data in any way.”

Girl: *in the most dramatic, panicked, voice you can imagine* “I don’t believe you! Where are my pictures?! Why aren’t you showing me my pictures?!”

Me: “Okay, calm down.”

(I turn the laptop on, click on the pictures directory, and click on a random picture to bring it up. The randomly-chosen picture happens to be of a young, muscular man, fully nude, holding an enlarged portion of his anatomy that is larger than what is considered average.)

Me: “Woah!”

(I turn the laptop around to face my side of the counter as not to expose other customers. One of my coworkers turns and notices the image I have just turned in his direction.)

Coworker: “WHOA!”

(I alt-F4 faster than I have ever alt-F4ed in my life.)

Father: “Was that…?”

Girl: *stunned silence*

Me: “I don’t know; I didn’t see anything”

Father: “Thank you.”

(He put $100 on the counter for a $30 repair, closed the laptop lid, and walked away with his mortified daughter in tow. We bought chicken wings for the whole team. We still talk about it to this day.)

(I am visiting my cousin and niece at their house. They are in the kitchen while I am in an adjacent room.)

Niece: “Daddy, can I have some ice cream?”

Cousin: “Sure thing. Don’t tell anyone else about this, okay?”

(At this point, I need something from the kitchen, so I walk in, just as my cousin is opening the freezer and taking out an ice cream carton.)

Me: “Hey there, [Niece]. What are you doing?”

Niece: “We’re getting… nothing from the freezer.”

(She held her arms out, as if to block me from seeing my very tall cousin prepare an ice cream cone.)

(I work at a large chain arts and crafts store. I’m usually at the fabric counter, but tonight I am working registers. My coworker, the only other person on registers tonight, gives me that “Dear God, please save me” expression. She has a middle-aged man with a large slab of green upholstery foam in his cart at her register.)

Coworker: “This guest wants to know if we can ring up this foam for him.”

Customer: “I have the barcode for it right here.” *shows me the image on his phone*

Me: “I’m sorry; you need to take that back to the cutting counter so they can measure and price it for you.”

Customer: “But I have the price right here!”

Me: “I noticed. But it still needs to be taken back to the cutting counter so we can make sure it’s two and a half yards long, so we don’t overcharge you.”

Customer: “You can’t just do it from this? It’s just $69.99.”

Me: “It’s store policy that our green foam is measured and cut by the counter.”

Customer: “You mean I have to stand back there with all those women?”

Me: *pause* “That is what that would imply, yes.”

Customer: *wheeling his cart back out of the till* “Just so you know, that’s a s***ty policy!”

Me: “He’s going to s*** a brick when he realizes that’s $70 a yard. Should I call out and tell our entirely female staff at the counter about this guy?”

Coworker: “Definitely.”

(As far as I know, he didn’t get his foam and hasn’t been back.)

This story is part of our Crafting Roundup!

Read the next Crafting Roundup story!

Read the Crafting Roundup!

My brother had just finished soccer practice in his senior year and decided to drive his friend home. On the way to her house, a distracted driver ended up rear-ending the two of them into an intersection, where the passenger side was hit by a van going 50 miles per hour. My brother broke four ribs in the crash and managed to roll out of the car. He stood up and tried to make his way back to help his friend, puncturing a lung in the process. Eventually, a bystander managed to restrain my brother so he wouldn’t be injured further. The girl was taken into intensive care, and we didn’t know what was happening with her for a long time.

I was in the same high school as my brother, and I was allowed to take a week off to stay with him in recovery. He was incredibly worried about his friend, and he was starting to get depressed. That’s around the time people started coming to see him. Throughout his stay he had nearly the entire school visit him, both students and staff. The nurses actually had to start getting involved to make sure not too many people were in the waiting room at a time. Each and every person brought him an origami swan.

We learned that the day after the accident the entire school shut down all its activities. Instead, everyone was taught how to make origami swans, which signify health and quick healing. Everyone spent the entire day folding them for my brother and his friend. My brother received over 3,000 swans. When he was finally released and he went back to school for the first time, we found the entire school covered in swans. They were hanging from the ceiling in nearly every room. One of his friends even managed to make a seven-foot tall swan that the school kept in the cafeteria.

My brother and his friend miraculously recovered. Even the doctors were baffled that there was no permanent damage to either of them. My school had those swans hanging in the hallways until the day it shut down. It might be silly to think little pieces of paper could make a difference in a life-or-death situation, but I can’t help but be thankful for each and every one of them.