Never Truly Game Over

, , | Canada | Hopeless | January 2, 2017

This is something I like taking pride in as a gamer. I’m a member of a small community online dedicated to gaming and listing collections. The community is tight knit and almost like a family. Unfortunately, one of the longtime members had passed away from cancer and the community has been pretty devastated by the loss.

One of the deceased member’s last tweets on her Twitter account was a request that someone does a cancer charity marathon in her memory if she passes away soon. It took a bit of planning, but the site owner, his girlfriend, and his best friend scheduled a weekend-long gaming marathon while the rest of us pooled in our money for the cause.

The marathon was an absolute blast and everyone agreed it was a perfect celebration of life for her. In the end, we managed to raise over $3000 from our small community to help patients and victims of cancer.

It may seem small, but we all hoped it would help make a difference.

No Cancer For Christmas

, , | CT, USA | Hopeless | December 19, 2016

(I’m working the register at my home pharmacy. A man asks to pick up his prescriptions, and some for his wife. I take the necessary information, and grab hers at the same time as his. Note: she has around a half dozen prescriptions, some in large bags.)

Customer #1: *seeing me with several bags* “Oh, dear, that’s more than I thought.”

Me: “It’s all right; some are just larger than others.”

(I ring up the total for the prescriptions; it’s about $15 dollars. As I’m relating the price to him, he searchers his pockets for extra cash.)

Customer #1: *clearly embarrassed* “I’m sorry, but I only have $5.”

Me: “That’s okay; we can hold your wife’s prescriptions for the next two weeks. At least her painkillers have no co-pay, so you can take these home for her right now.”

(At this point, the customer at the till next to mine looks over.)

Customer #2: “Excuse me, but how much are your co-pays?”

Customer #1: “Oh, it’s OK, really.”

Customer #2: “Are they more than $20?” *he already has a 20 dollar bill in his hand*

Me: “It’s about $15.”

Customer #1: “Really, you don’t need to do that.”

Customer #2: “Well, I’ll just take the change then, and you trade me the $5.”

Customer #1: *looks about ready to cry* “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

Customer #2: “My wife has cancer. If someone hadn’t helped us out at one point or another, we wouldn’t have her medication. Is her insurance [Insurance Company]?”

(The second customer then tells the first how to get co-pay booklets, to help with the cost of co-pays, so he can get the prescriptions cheaper in the future. I hand the change back to the second customer as promised, and the prescriptions to the first customer.)

Customer #1: *shakes the hand of the other customer* “Thank you, sir. You’ve made my Christmas.”

Not A Fan Of Management

, , | CT, USA | Working | December 13, 2016

It is during my tenure as a cashier at a mid-to-low tier department store. Everything is run by our corporate headquarters – including, unfortunately, the thermostat. The A/C isn’t set to kick on until a set date, which means that if it gets warm early in the season, the associates just get to sweat. We aren’t allowed to have drinks at our station, and can only leave for our breaks.

It is about 100 degrees in the store. I have several very nice customers come up and ask if I would like a water bottle, and how I could stand to work in the heat. I do my best to put on my customer service smile in spite of really not tolerating heat well at all and tell them I am fine.

About midway through my shift my manager comes up to my register. To offer me some water or a break? No. To yell at me for fanning myself, because ‘you don’t need to advertise it to the customers; they already know it’s hot.’

Yeah, because I was fanning myself for the sake of the customers.

Thankfully, I was only at that store to bridge the gap before going back to school, and once I left I never went back.

Down But Not Out

, | Norway | Hopeless | November 23, 2016

(In primary and middle school, one of my classmates was a girl with Downs syndrome. When we started junior high she transferred to a school for students with special needs, and although we would see her around town every now and then, we haven’t really interacted much with her since then. She had some problems with communication and social interaction when we first started school, and it was believed that she would stay with her parents most of her life. We’re now in our 20s, and she has a job at the bakery my dad uses. He tells us about this interaction:)

Former Classmate: *to her coworkers, when she sees my dad walk up to the counter* “I’ll take this one. That’s [My Name]’s dad and I know him. I’m gonna serve him.”

(It’s not a lot, but just knowing that she still remembers not only me, but also my dad, after almost ten years, is really great. She always has a smile on her face, and everyone loves her. She has her own apartment and gets around town mostly on her own, and we’re all very proud of her.)

All Things Are Not Sound

, , | Canada | Right | November 23, 2016

I work at a seasonal produce market that sells local fruits and vegetables as a cashier and grocery bagger. Today, a man and his wife came through with four bunches of garden carrots that still had the green tops on while I was on bagging duty. The tops of these carrots are usually all over the place, so to get them to fit nicely into our bags, we have to bend the leafy tops over.

The cashier hands me the bunches and I start putting them into the bags as usual. As I’m doing this, I hear a faint sound, which sort of resembles coughing and doesn’t really phase me.

As I go to put the last bunch in the bag, I hear a terrifying and loud screech that completely stuns me and the cashier I was working with. I look up to see the man staring at me very angrily.

It turns out he had a tracheostomy and could not speak whatsoever but was trying to tell me not to bend the carrot tops (hence the faint coughing noises).

The screeching sound was him screaming at me through his tracheostomy for not following his wishes, which he clearly could not get across.

Through all of this, his wife, who could communicate and understand her husband perfectly well, said nothing to indicate I was doing something they did not want.

That screeching sound will haunt my coworker and me forever.

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