(My boyfriend and I are buying our weekly groceries.)

Boyfriend: “What day is it today?”

Me: “It’s Sunday, I think?”

Boyfriend: “S***!

Me: “What? What’s wrong!?”

Boyfriend: “We forgot! Game Of Thrones is on tonight! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! We need to get home!”

Me: “D***! But I haven’t finished shopping!”

(My boyfriend literally starts running around the store, pushing people out of the way and grabbing as much random food as he can carry. He then grabs two packets of two-minute noodles.)

Boyfriend: “Dinner’s sorted! GO! GO! GO!”

(We made it home in time!)

(I work for a large supermarket chain while attending college. I am a cart pusher. I usually work the first shift of the day from 7 am to 4 pm. This particular morning, I find a leather book left on a cart from the night before.)

Me: *to my manager* “I found this book out on one of the carts. It’s covered in frost, so it must have been left here over night.”

Manager: “Huh, wonder what it is…”

(My manager opens the book and discovers it is a large checkbook used by a business. Someone’s entire financial information is in this book. We turn it in to the front desk and think nothing of it. Near quitting time, a couple in their 30s see me in the parking lot and runs up to me.)

Gentleman: *stressed* “Hi! Did you by chance see a leather notebook on any of these carts? I left here last night.”

Me: “Sir, you are in luck. I found it first thing this morning covered in frost. It is at the front desk waiting for you.”

(I can see the stress lift from the man immediately. He thanks me profusely and he and his wife take off to the store. About 10 minutes later, I see him talking with one of my fellow cart pushers who then points to my location. The man rushes over to me.)

Gentleman: “Young man, I insist on rewarding you for your good behavior and helping me retrieve this.”

Me: “Sir, that is entirely unnecessary. I just found your notebook and turned it in. It was my job.”

Gentleman: “No! You were honest and did what many people may not have. My entire job’s finances are available in this notebook. You did the right thing and deserved to be rewarded.”

(I stopped fighting it and gave him my name. He wrote me a check for $100 on the spot! I thanked him, shook his hand and wished him a Merry Christmas. I then took that $100 and bought more gifts for friends and family.)

(It’s Christmas time, and I’m doing some overtime to help my boss and a female co-worker put up some decorations around the store when a customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Can I have that tinsel?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am, this isn’t for sale. It’s just for the store. We’ve got some decorations for sale in the next aisle if you want me to show you?

Customer: “No. I want that one, are you even Christian?”

Me: *taken aback* “Uh, no ma’am, I’m not.”

Customer: “I thought so, you don’t deserve these decorations…you’re a heathen!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but my boss wouldn’t be happy with me giving away the decorations he’s already paid for.”

Customer: “I bet he wouldn’t be happy knowing that he’s got a heathen as an employee! I bet you’re one of them gays as well right?”

Me: *stunned* “Um…actually…”

Customer: *shouting* “You’re going straight to hell! I bet the rest of the staff don’t even know about your little secret!”

(Just then, my coworker walks up to us.)

Female Coworker: “Hey babe, can you help me set up the tree?”

(The customer turns white, and practically runs out of the store.)

Female Coworker: “Man, that woman was a b****!”

(We set up the tree and she asks me out afterwards, we’ve been dating for nearly seven months!)

(I am purchasing some juice to stock up for the holiday break because a majority of stores will be closed. There is an employee working the cash register.)

Me: “Hello, how are you?”

Employee: *glares*

Me: “…Okay, never mind then.” *places juice cartons on conveyor belt*

Employee: *picks up carton and rolls eyes*

Me: “I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

Employee: “You know that half of the juice that’s sold in the United States has chemicals in it, right?”

Me: “…”

Employee: “So essentially, you’re killing yourself and your family by buying this stuff.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Employee: “Whatever; it’s not up to me to tell you how to lead your lifestyle. Kids these days! Idiots and failures, every single one of them.”

(Another customer behind me has been listening in and speaks up.)

Another Customer: “Listen, if this kid wants to buy juice, then that’s his prerogative. It’s not up to you to tell him that he’s killing his family because he’s certainly living a better life than you at this rate. Now, shut your trap and sell this kid what he wants.”

(I buy my juice and leave, but I make sure to stop the other customer once they head out of the store.)

Me: “Thank you very much for that.”

Another Customer: “It’s no problem. Here’s something funny; I’ve seen that woman at the register before. I went to high school with her and she dropped out. She’s one to talk about kids being worthless.”

Customer: “Give me about half pound of the all-beef salami.”

Me: “Sure thing, ma’am.”

(I slice up the salami. I’m usually pretty good at eyeballing the weight of a product, but when I put the sliced salami on the scale, it’s pretty underweight.)

Customer: “I think that will be enough. Is that less than a half pound?”

Me: “Yes, it’s about four-tenths.”

(The customer gives me a blank look.)

Me: “Four-tenths of a pound.”

Customer: “I don’t understand what that means.”

(The customer looks to her husband for help, but he looks as perplexed as she does and just shrugs.)

Customer: “Are you sure it’s less than half a pound?”

Me: “I’m positive, ma’am.”

Customer: “I don’t know…”

Me: “A half is five-tenths, right? Four-tenths is less than five-tenths.”

Customer: “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Me: “Okay, uh, well… what’s worth less, forty cents or fifty cents?”

Customer: “There’s no way all that salami only costs fifty cents!”

(She did eventually buy the four-tenths of a pound of salami at the listed price, though I doubt either she or her husband were convinced it was less than half a pound.)