I am a customer in a gas station owned by people from the Middle East. I don’t know where they’re from exactly, but English is not their first language. Our county has a mask mandate, and businesses that don’t comply will be fined $400. I’m in the back getting my energy drinks when I hear a commotion.

Cashier: “Mask, sir! Mask, please!”

Customer: *Smiling* “Nope! I don’t have to wear one.”

Cashier: *Pointing to a sign* “Mask please to be in here.”

Customer: *Still weirdly happy* “There’s no mask mandate starting today; the chamber of commerce said so. You don’t have to ask me to wear one anymore, so don’t worry about it.”

The cashier is obviously confused and trying to figure out what he means, so I jump in.

Me: *To the customer* “That’s not true; the mandate is still in effect.” *To the cashier* “He’s still saying no.”

Cashier: *Frustrated* “Mask, PLEASE!”

Customer: “No! Your boss is just making your life harder by making you ask that dumb question. Your boss is [White-Sounding Name], right? He owns all the [Gas Station]s, so he owns this one, too! I’ll call him and tell him to let me not wear my mask because I don’t have to!”

The cashier looks back at me for an explanation of what this guy’s talking about.

Me: *To the cashier* “He said he knows your boss, so he doesn’t have to wear a mask.”

Cashier: “No! I boss! We boss!” *Gestures to the backroom*

The customer looks at me. I guess I’m a translator now. Also, a small line has been forming, staring uncomfortably at this s***show.

Me: *To the customer* “This is a family-owned business. [White-Sounding Name] isn’t the owner; this man’s family is. You have to wear a mask.”

Customer: “No! I can’t believe you’re trying to make his job harder by making him enforce a stupid rule.”

Me: “He could get fined if the police saw you in here without a mask.”

Cashier: “Police? Fine? Please don’t! No police! Please! $400!”

Me: “No, it’s okay!” *To the customer* “He shouldn’t get fined because you’re being stubborn. Can’t you just pay and leave?”

Customer: “No, I want him to know he doesn’t have to—”

Me: *Finally snapping.* “THERE’S A LINE! Please! I wanna buy my drink! People want gas!”

Customer: “FINE!”

There was no “everyone clapped” moment or anything, but now they charge my energy drinks as $1.00 fountain sodas, so that’s neat, I guess.

My husband and I are driving home to New Jersey after visiting relatives in Mississippi. It is a long trip — about twenty-two hours straight through — that we have made many times. Our route home takes us through the interstate in Virginia.

On this particular trip, a large hurricane is approaching Florida. Many people are evacuating the state entirely and going to stay with relatives elsewhere. We are amazed at the number of Floridian license plates that we see on other vehicles on the road.

We stop at a rest stop. We get out of the car and see pallets and pallets of cases of water.

I walk up to the security guard standing near the pallets.

Me: “Excuse me. What’s with all the water?”

Guard: “The State of Virginia is aware that many people will be coming to Virginia or passing through Virginia to escape [Hurricane]. Anyone that comes through here can get a free bottle of water. We also have free coffee, instead, and some snacks for kids.”

Me: “Are you serious? That is just awesome! I love Virginia for doing this!”

Guard: “You are welcome to grab a bottle of water or a cup of coffee if you’d like.”

Me: “Thanks, but that’s okay. We aren’t coming out of Florida, and we’ve got drinks and snacks in the car already. I’m just so impressed that you guys are doing this.”

Guard: “Thank you, ma’am. Y’all have a safe trip.”

And so it was, for the rest of our trip through Virginia; every rest stop had free water, coffee, and snacks. Go, Virginia! You guys are definitely getting it right!

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!

It’s early December. I’m third in line at a convenience store. At the front of the line is a young woman carrying a young child, maybe four years old. The second person in line is an older man with a bushy white beard, wearing black pants and a red sweater. Honestly, my first thought is, “Santa Claus.” The little girl seems to agree, because she’s staring at him in wonder.

Just before her mother steps up to the cashier, the girl finds the nerve to speak.

Little Girl: *In a hushed tone* “Are you Santa?”

Fake Santa pauses for a moment.

Fake Santa: “Nah, sorry, kid. I’m his brother, Fred.”

Sounds sweet, right? No identity theft but he still plays along. But then…

Fake Santa: “Santa actually died two weeks ago.”

Little Girl: “S-Santa is d-dead?!”

The little girl started wailing.

The mother tried to calm her daughter down. I started yelling at the man that he was a monster. It was chaos. The cashiers hadn’t heard the conversation so they were confused.

The man shrugged and went to an open cashier, who served him silently and he left. I told the cashiers what had happened and they were just as horrified as we were. They had some cheap toys hanging from a rack, so one of them grabbed a bear and took it to the little girl. When I left, they were telling her that the man was a liar.

Hopefully, he didn’t spoil the holiday for her. What is wrong with people?

At this time, gas is around $2.50 a gallon. One day, a woman storms in, comes up to my register, and slams a receipt down in front of me, completely cutting the line.

Customer: “You are a bunch of f****** scammers, and I will be suing you!”

My coworker scurries off to, I assume, get the supervisor, leaving me to deal with this woman until she gets back. Luckily, the people in her line seem to understand, because it’s gone fairly quiet.

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “You’re advertising your gas prices at $2.50 a gallon! I just pumped ten gallons exactly, and I was charged $25.09!”

Me: “Yes, that’s correct, ma’am.”

Customer: “IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE $25!”

I tend to stay calm when being yelled at because it doesn’t help for both parties to lose their heads; that just devolves into a screaming match, and staying calm usually just makes the angry party angrier, which I find somewhat amusing. I just pull out my pen and use it as a pointer.

Me: “If gas were actually $2.50 a gallon, you would be correct, yes. Ten multiplied by $2.50 is $25; you just move the decimal point one spot over. However, do you see here on your receipt where it shows you that you pumped ten gallons of unleaded? And the price of the unleaded? The price is $2.509. Multiply by ten, which, again, just moves that decimal one point over, and that $2.509 becomes $25.09, which is what you were charged.”

She grabs the receipt and storms out without another word. My supervisor had shown up right at the end of it.

Supervisor: “What happened? [Coworker] said that woman came in threatening to sue.”

Me: “Nah, it’s fine. She didn’t understand word problems in math; I was explaining it to her.”

A father and teenage daughter enter the shop. The father walks to the restroom while the daughter grabs drinks. The girl comes up to pay and we go through the motions. As I’m handing her the receipt, the father comes up to the register.

Me: “Have a nice day, ma’am!”

Daughter: “You, too!”

Father: “How dare you call her that?! She is a miss, not a ma’am!”

Me: *Shocked* “Y-yes, sir… Have a nice day, miss.”

The father smirked and left. She apologized, gave me a tip, and then ran out the door. I feel more sorry for her, honestly.