My roommate of forty years ago related this to me. Remember, this was back in the 1970s. He once saw a woman going down the ketchup aisle, opening each, sticking her finger in, tasting it, then going on to the next.

I always check inner seals when I get home and have no compunction taking something back if broken. But that was before they started packaging with consumer safety in mind.

My first job was as a bagger for a local grocery store. I started working there before I was sixteen, and labor laws only allowed kids under sixteen to work until 6:00 pm on weekdays and 8:00 pm on weekends during the school year. Also, we could not exceed four hours a workday during the weekdays and eight hours on weekend days. The store policy allowed a fifteen-minute paid break for every three hours of work and a thirty-minute unpaid break if the workday was seven hours or longer; a seven- to eight-hour day meant two paid fifteen-minute breaks and one unpaid thirty-minute break.

The store manager had a bad habit of scheduling the high school kids to work 2.75 hours a day for weekday shifts. Because we didn’t work three hours, we didn’t get a break. On the weekends, he’d schedule the high school kids 5.75 hours. We’d only get one fifteen-minute paid break and we didn’t work long enough to get a lunch break or the second fifteen-minute paid break.

The store manager also had issues allowing people time off, even if they handed in a written request — per store policy — two weeks in advance. Many times we would be told no or called in to fill in.

Half of the staff were high school kids. Those that were sixteen and older could do other tasks, such as run a cash register, stock shelves, or assist in the deli or bakery. Under sixteen, we were stuck cleaning bathrooms or the back-room break area, doing general cleaning, or bagging groceries for customers.

I worked there for a little over a year, along with half a dozen friends and a few other high school kids. When I turned sixteen, I was moved to a cashier position and got to help stock now and then. I could now work until 10:00 pm on a school night and the same on weekends, and I could be scheduled a full eight hours any day of the week as long as it didn’t interfere with my school hours.

The manager never changed his ways, though. He kept scheduling high schoolers at 2.75-hour shifts or 5.75-hour shifts. My friends and I that worked there were fed up with working shifts long enough to not get a break or only one break in nearly six hours, so we brought up the issue with the store manager. He said he’d take it under consideration, but he never did.

So, we did what any group of kids of the same mindset would do. Ten of us put in our two-week notice. This left only two other high schoolers that didn’t want to join the group still working there. We also passed along the word at school for others not to work there because of the work hours, so the store manager couldn’t find any other kids to come in and work.

After my two-week notice was up, the store was so short-staffed that the management team had to take over all the cashier and bagger positions that were now unmanned, simply because the store manager didn’t want to have a heart and be kind to his high school employees. It took a good three or four months before they started finding people to help fill positions, so for those few months, the manager actually had to get up off his lazy behind and work.

My cousin, age ten, and I, age seven, went to the local grocery store to get some stuff for my mom. She had (jokingly) added “a six-pack of cold beer” to the shopping list.

My cousin and I arrived at the checkout lane, and the nice lady told us:

Cashier: “I’m afraid you can’t buy beer because you’re under eighteen years of age.”

I did a bit of quick math.

Me: “But, we are seventeen together. You can overlook one year, can’t you?”

The checkout lady smiled and shook her head. The other people near the counter chuckled. We were embarrassed and returned the beer to the shelf.

Arriving home, we told the tale to my mom and cousin’s mom. They had big grins and told us they were joking and just wanted to see what would happen.

I grumpily replied, something like:

Me: “Well, the beer wasn’t cold, anyway.”

I help an elderly lady at the grocery store grab something from the top shelf. After she goes on her merry way, I turn around and see a woman just glaring at me.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Woman: “Yes, you can! I’m looking for whole milk chocolate milk, but all you have is 2% chocolate milk! Why don’t you have whole milk chocolate milk?”

Me: “I’m not sure why they don’t have whole chocolate milk, but an alternative is buying regular whole milk and some chocolate syrup.”

Woman: “You expect me to pay more for your failure to stock whole chocolate milk?! You are trying to rip me off! Where is your manager?!”

Me: “I don’t work here, but even if I did, how would this issue be at all my fault?”

Woman: “If you don’t work here, then why were you helping that woman just now?”

Me: “Because I was just being helpful.”

Woman: “Bulls***. You work here and you are trying to rip me off!”

So, at this point, logic isn’t working.

Me: “Look, if it wasn’t for the secret elves that live inside my spleen, I’d gladly help you find your milk, but sadly, they don’t take days off and I really don’t want another egg soup incident again. So, if you will excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”

I spread my arms, turned around, and made airplane noises as I quickly walked away. She was left there speechless.

I was doing my weekly grocery shop and was in the canned vegetable aisle when I heard a quiet “Excuse me” behind me. I turned around and there was an older woman easily under five feet tall.

Me: “Yes, ma’am? Can I help you?”

Woman: “I can’t find the tomato paste. Can you show me where it is?”

I knew it was two aisles over with the pasta sauce, and I knew it was on the second shelf from the top and that she would never be able to reach it, so I walked her over and grabbed it for her.

Me: “Is there anything else you need help with?”

Woman: “Yes!”

She showed me her list. I proceeded to walk around the store with her and take her to the items she needed. When we were done:

Woman: “I’m going to ask for the manager to tell them how helpful you’ve been and what a kind lad they have on hand!”

Me: “Oh, I don’t work here. I’m just getting my shopping done.”

I had not taken my cart into the aisle with me as I needed a can just a couple of shelves in.

Woman: “Why did you help me shop, then?”

Me: “We all need to help each other. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

When I went to check out, I saw her in the parking lot. She pulled the tomato paste out of her bag and shook it in the air as she waved at me and gave me an ear-to-ear smile. 11/10, would help her shop again.