I work in a factory with several coworkers. One day, I notice that one of them is very quiet and seems a bit down, so I ask him what’s the matter and he tells his story.

For some reason, he has trouble falling asleep, and he has had countless nights with hardly any sleep. One of his friends told him to get some sleeping pills, so [Coworker] searched the Internet and found an online pharmacy that sold 100 sleeping pills for 183 Euros. He ordered them but received an email the next day that he also had to pay 425 Euros for import duty tax.

[Coworker] paid the “import duty tax” but never received the drugs. Trying to contact the pharmacy was impossible; they never answered his emails, and the telephone number on their website was a fake number. He had been scammed.

Me: “Why didn’t you go to your regular doctor to get a prescription and get the drug legally?”

Coworker: “I don’t believe in doctors and their medicines.”

Me: “If you had believed in doctors, you would’ve gotten your drugs for free instead of being scammed for over 600 Euros. Even the doctor visit would’ve been without any cost to you.”

He wouldn’t have even had to take unpaid time off because, in the Netherlands, your boss pays you for the time you visit a doctor if you have no other option than to visit them during working hours.

It took six other coworkers to convince him that visiting a doctor is much better, safer, and cheaper than ordering drugs on the Internet.

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I’m visiting my friends, a couple, who are both blind. The five of us — three humans and two guide dogs — enter a bagel shop. As I usually do, I read my friends the menu board so they can make selections. The counter clerk comes up to us.

Clerk: “What will they have?”

Me: “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask them?”

She pulls herself together.

Clerk: *Loudly, to my friends* “What can I get you?”

My friends order, and then I order. The clerk is still disconcerted, but she makes the bagel orders and gives me all three coffees, which I carry to the table. 

After we eat, I ask my friends:

Me: “Would you like to destabilize her some more?”

Friend: *Almost gleefully* “Oh, yes. What did you have in mind?”

Me: “Go get us more coffee”

My friend grabbed all three cups, took them up to the counter, asked for refills, and carried them back — two, then one. 

The clerk had eyes like saucers.

I went to a “posh” state school, one that desperately wanted to be a private school but couldn’t quite attract enough wealthy families willing to pay for tuition. However, we weren’t allowed to play common sports in PE like football, so instead, we did tennis in the spring/summer and lacrosse in the autumn/winter. This happened early in year seven (eleven years old), and I’m still salty about it nearly fifteen years later.

After a couple of lessons teaching us how to pick up the ball with a lacrosse stick and throw it without whacking ourselves in the head, the PE teacher divided us into two teams, let us loose on the playing field, and told us to play a game of lacrosse. It’s important to note that we knew the positions of lacrosse players on the field but pretty much nothing else. We also weren’t given or told to buy any gear apart from shoes, sticks, and mouthguards.

I, being a fairly exercise-averse preteen, decided I’d play goalie in an attempt to get away from most of the running around. I know the teacher saw me standing in goal because we locked eyes early in the game, and she didn’t say anything, so I thought I’d gotten away with it.

After about fifteen minutes of watching my classmates run around, someone actually managed to get near the goal and attempted to score. I tried to intercept but instead took the heavy baseball-sized ball full force in my chest. It was the first time I understood that “knocking the wind out of someone” wasn’t just a turn of phrase but in fact an accurate description. I crumpled rather unceremoniously onto the astroturf, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. My vision went dim, and for a second, I genuinely thought I was dying.

Suddenly, there was a crowd of my classmates around me, and the teacher was pushing through to stand over me. Silly me, I thought she was there to help. Instead, she turned to the crowd and said:

Teacher: “And that, class, is why lacrosse goalkeepers wear heavy body protection. It was very silly of you to try and play goalie without that, wasn’t it, [My Name]?”

I just sort of gaped at her, too breathless to be upset that I was being shamed publicly for something I didn’t know I shouldn’t do. Apparently dissatisfied with my lack of a grovelling apology for not having memorised the appropriate attire for a game I’d only learned existed a month ago, the teacher made me stand up and told me:

Teacher: “If you’re really that hurt, you can go and sit on the side for a bit.”

Thankfully, by the time all the fuss had died down class, was almost over, so we all trooped back into the lockers to get changed.

I was a severely anxious child and convinced myself I’d actually done something wrong, so I didn’t report it. I still regret that, especially as I spent the next two weeks with a fist-sized bruise aching against my ribs every time I took a breath. Funnily enough, I developed an aversion to lacrosse after that and never played goalie again.

I’m a personal trainer, and I also work shifts at reception at our gym when I am not with clients. For the last week, I’ve seen a woman approach the entrance, stare at the building for a solid minute, and then scurry away.

I’ve seen her do this every morning for a week. Today is no exception, so I pretend to head out to take a phone call outside on my cell phone when I see her approaching. She goes through her same routine of building up the courage to go inside when I see her start to waver again.

Me: “Good morning! How are ya?”

Woman: “I’m… fine, thank you.”

Me: “Thinking about joining? We offer a lot of good programs.”

Woman: “There’s no point. I think about it, but…”

There’s an extended pause.

Me: “You okay?”

Woman: “…oh, nothing. Never mind.”

She starts to walk back the way she came, toward her car.

Me: “Oh, you’re heading in the direction of [Store]? Mind keeping me company?”

Woman: “…okay?”

Me: “I remember when I first thought about going to the gym. I was so unhappy with how I looked, and all the women at the gym were so skinny and so… Well, they seemed way ahead of me.”

Woman: “Really? But you look amazing!”

Me: “I feel amazing! And deep down, that’s what it’s all about. Your body will change only after your mind does.”

Woman: “But… I’ve never even been inside a gym before. I’m so unfit!”

Me: “So was I! But the first thing I’ll tell you — which I wish someone had told me at the beginning — is that this is a personal journey, and it’s for you to decide when and how. Other people can help you, but they shouldn’t force you, and you shouldn’t feel forced. That’s a one-way ticket straight back to where you started.”

Woman: “Well… I do want to. It’s just…”

Our walk has taken us past the nearby store, and we are now walking around a large artificial body of water. I keep us going as she explains to me her struggles with confidence, her weight, her self-image, and just generally how she feels about herself. Before I know it, we’ve come full circle back to where we started the walk. Part of her explanation is that she barely gets in more than 1,500 steps a day.

Me: “I hear everything you just said, but I also want you to just realize something. According to my step-counter, we’ve just done almost 3,000 steps, and you didn’t even notice.”

Woman: “What?! Really?”

Me: “Yeah, see?! Look! It shows we’ve just done 3,000 in the last half-hour.”

Woman: “Wow!”

Me: “Tell you what. I’m not going to tell you to go inside that gym if it doesn’t feel right yet, but I do need a walking workout buddy around this time most weekdays. Just come and walk around the pond with me and we can talk about whatever. Sound good?”

Woman: “That… sounds… good!“

I meet her the next day, and we walk around the pond again. And the next day. And almost every weekday when I am on shift and have an hour or so of break. Within a week, the woman is pushing 4,000 steps.

After two weeks, we start doing two laps around the pond, and I actually have to tell her I can’t take longer breaks than this, and if she wants to walk longer, then she can meet me before or after work.

Woman: “How about I walk with you… into work?”

And that’s how I got a scared but determined woman to step into a gym for the first time in her life and actually feel good about herself. She’s now a regular at the gym and has signed up for one of my classes, and we still get our lap in at the pond every lunchtime!

This story is part of the Best-Feel-Good-Stories Of-2023 roundup!

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Our store’s online ordering system went down for maintenance overnight. As such, everyone who opened our website saw a pop-up that said orders would be delayed, and everyone who placed an order was sent an order confirmation with the same warning

I am walking out of the office when a woman steps in front of me.

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I have been standing here for an hour, and no one has bothered to even look at me.”

The store has been open for twenty minutes, so either she was standing outside expecting people to wait on her before the store opened or she is lying.

Me: “I can assist you. What are you looking for?”

Customer: “I’m disabled, and no one has offered to help me at all!”

Me: “I do apologize for that. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I paid for an order through PayPal last night, and I am here to pick it up.”

Me: “Okay. Our system has been down for an update, so I’m not sure it was completed yet. Did you get an email saying it was ready?”

Customer: “Yes! It’s right here!”

She waves her phone but doesn’t show me anything.

Me: “Okay. What is the name on the order?”

Customer: “[Customer].”

Me: “Hmm. I don’t see anything. Do you have an order number?”

She reads off a series of letters and numbers.

Me: “That doesn’t sound like our order numbers. Can I see what—”

Customer: “I can’t keep standing here like this! I am disabled and this is not good for me!”

Me: “Okay. I can get you a chair while we sort this out.”

Customer: “No! Just get me my order. How is it this hard? You need to have this, or you can give me a refund!”

Me: “I am doing what I can, ma’am. As I said, our system—”

Customer: “I don’t give a flying f*** if your system went down or you had a big sale or the motherf***ing store was on fire! You need to give me my order!”

She thrusts her phone in my face.

Customer: “Look!”

Me: “Ma’am, that is an email from PayPal.”

Customer: “So? Why don’t you have my things ready? This is bad publicity!”

Me: “I understand that you’re frustrated, but every [Store] location is dealing with this. If you—”

Customer: “I am disabled! You cannot treat me like this! I can’t stand this long!”

Me: “Are you sure you don’t want to sit? If you can show me what you ordered, I can get it for you, and you can be on your way.”

This is not the way we typically do things, but at this point, I just want her to leave.

Customer: “That is not the point! I have been waiting, and none of you are even trying to help!”

Me: “If you can tell me what you ordered, I can get it for you, and you can be on your way.”

Customer: “You are ridiculous!” 

She stormed off, running her arms along several displays and knocking down everything along the way. A few hours later, the system was back up and we were flooded with orders. When that customer’s order came through, we saw that she had ordered one item that was sitting right beside where we were talking the whole time.