We have just moved our stock around a few days before Christmas to make room for all the extra turkeys, trimming, etc., that we will be selling over the festive period. Normally, we have an area dedicated to gluten-free products; however, over Christmas, we do not have the space to keep them all together so they are placed with the “regular” products. For example, gluten-free bread is next to the regular bread, gluten-free ready meals with the regular ready meals, and so on.

A customer comes to my till, not looking happy. I ask if there is anything we can do.

Customer: “You have taken away all the gluten-free meals!”

Me: “Oh, sorry, madam. We haven’t taken them away; we’ve just had a bit of a move around!”

I explain the situation, adding where the meals are currently.

Customer: “But you haven’t got a gluten-free section!”

Me: “It’s just over Christmas. The items are still there but in different places.”

Customer: “They should all be together!”

Me: “They will return to their usual place after Christmas.”

Customer: “YOU JUST WANT COELIACS TO STARVE!”

Me: “Would you like me to get a manager?”

The manager appeared and spent ten minutes dealing with this woman whilst I continued serving other customers, one of whom came up with a gluten-free ready meal and said how easily she’d found it! Some people.

I am now a regular at a well-known sandwich chain, and I am impressed with how they deal with customers not wearing masks. They simply ask, “Do you need a mask?”

The first time I saw this, the customer said, “No, I have one,” and put it on. It was a great way to deal non-confrontationally with a maskless customer.

But on another occasion, while I am waiting for my coffee, I see them hand a mask to a customer not wearing one. He then walks up to the counter and starts ordering WITH THE MASK IN HIS HAND! At this point, the server has probably done all she’s allowed to do to get him to mask up. He’s way closer than a metre from her and there are no screens.

Me: “Put the mask on.”

Customer: “I am just—”

I think he is going to say that he can’t because he is busy ordering.

Me: “PUT THE MASK ON!”

He finally put it on. Seriously, it’s not that complicated.

I find a child’s bike dumped in the bushes near my house. It’s in great condition so I wonder if it’s been lost or stolen.

I put a post in the social media group for my area.

Post: “Found: child’s bike, [make and model], in [Area]. If this is yours, please let me know what the unusual stickers are to claim it. I will hand this in to the police station if it’s not collected by the end of the week.”

A guy who has no children on his profile comments on my post.

Guy: “Can I have this, please?”

Me: “If this is yours, please tell me what the stickers are.”

Guy: “Yes, it has stickers. When can I collect?”

Random Person: “It’s not for sale. It’s been lost.”

Guy: “I want it. Give it to me.”

Me: “I don’t believe you. You can claim it from the police station when I can get over there and drop it off.”

He messaged me a few times privately, even offering me money as a “reward,” but I decided to hand it to the police. A few days after I did, a woman messaged me and told me it was her son’s bike, some kids had taken it, and she had only just seen my post.

I regretfully told her she needed to go to the police station to go through the process with them.

Happily, I later got a message with a photo of a very pleased looking kid on his bike. It looks like it all worked out.

This story is part of our Best Of December 2020 roundup!

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A few years ago, a couple of friends and I go on holiday to London. While the flight itself and the customs have been pretty normal, once we are on the way to the city, my friend starts to have a pretty heavy nosebleed. While it’s managed pretty well, it’s still enough to make him look a bit pale; we decide to postpone lunch and get straight to the hotel so that he can rest and recover a bit.

We three enter the tiny hotel’s lobby, and I can already see the receptionist’s eyes widen.

Receptionist: “Um… do you guys need some help? Water? A towel?”

Bleeding Friend: “That would be nice, yeah… Where I can get it?”

The receptionist points to the dining room downstairs, which my friend wobbly descends as he tries to avoid scattering any possible blood droplets. The receptionist then turns to me and my other friend.

Receptionist: “Do I need to call 111? Or is he full of coke?”

Other Friend: “Beg your pardon?” 

Receptionist: “Just be honest with me. I won’t tell the police if he’s high; I just need to know in case he starts acting weird. I wouldn’t want to wrestle him down.”

Other Friend: “Uh… No, he’s not?”

Me: “Sorry, but you’ve never met somebody having a heavy nosebleed?”

Receptionist: “You don’t have to hide it, just—”

Other Friend: “Just what? He’s got blood leaking down his nose, for what reason I’ve got no idea. Can we please move on?”

Receptionist: “I don’t want to deal with him if he goes ape-s***, okay? I’m not his buddy or his tamer.”

Me: “Do you want to check us in, or do you want us to go take our business elsewhere?”

He sighed and let us do the check-in process. During our stay, the cleaners opened up our doors a couple of times without warning while we were in the room. While it was likely an honest mistake, I can’t help but suspect that the receptionist was trying to catch us in the imaginary act. Seriously, though, is it hard to believe you can get a natural nosebleed?

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 8
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 7
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 6
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 5
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 4

The lady who runs the ticket office at my parents’ local train station is infamous locally as a total grump. She’s snappy and impatient and doesn’t suffer fools gladly. My father used to commute by train every day and always said good morning to [Ticket Lady], even though he was usually ignored.

One year, shortly after Christmas, my dad went to renew his season ticket as usual and, as usual, was served by [Ticket Lady]. She was in a particularly foul mood that day and my dad asked her about it.

Ticket Lady: “My office heater broke, and the rail company can’t provide me with a new one for a few days.”

My dad commiserated with her and left it at that, wishing her a happy New Year as he left.

Unbeknownst to [Ticket Lady], my dad then walked to the café up the road and purchased a coffee and warm pastry to go. He then returned to the station and gave them to [Ticket Lady], who was shocked. When she could finally speak:

Ticket Lady: “Thank you. Nobody ever does nice things for me.” 

After that day, [Ticket Lady] was always much politer to my parents and me. She would always greet us with a cheery, “Here comes Trouble!” when she saw us, and she always had time for a chat with my dad between customers. 

When my dad’s health started deteriorating and he started working from home, we would go for a walk together at lunchtime and always drop into the station to go and see [Ticket Lady]. She was one of the few people outside of our family who didn’t start treating him differently because of his obvious disability. My dad and I used to look forward to our chats with [Ticket Lady], and the year my dad finally retired, he bought her and her colleague a huge box of chocolates and a bottle of wine each to thank them for their assistance over the years. 

I moved away a couple of years ago, but I still see [Ticket Lady] sometimes if I visit my parents by train. Seeing her always makes me smile, and she’s the only person who still gets away with calling me “Trouble”.

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for December 2020!

Read the next Feel Good roundup for December 2020 story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for December 2020!