Ten Cents Can Make Your Day

, , , , , | Right | August 6, 2020

I’m a cashier at a local grocery store. A customer walks up to me with just a few items.

Customer: *Counting money* “Shoot, I’m ten cents short.”

Someone just told me to keep the change less than two minutes ago, so I’m feeling generous.

Me: “No worries, sir; it’s taken care of.”

Customer: “Thank you so much! I won’t forget! I’ll pay you back, trust me. I’m not poor!”

I almost immediately forget about it after he leaves; after all, ten cents is no big deal. A few days later, I get the same customer at my register, but I don’t immediately recognise him. Then, just as he’s about to pay:

Customer: “Don’t forget to add an extra ten cents! I told you I’d come back!”

He happily paid the extra ten cents and I felt a little bit better about humanity.

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Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 43

, , , , , , | Right | August 5, 2020

It’s 2012 and I’m working a slow night shift at our deli. A customer comes and asks a question about a meat I’m unsure if we carry, so I ask a senior coworker if we do. While she goes off to check, I stay to chat with the customer. Gam, I immediately recognize the game she’s playing.

Me: “Ma’am, may I ask what your daughter is playing?”

She looks to her daughter.

Customer: “Oh, I’m not sure. [Daughter], what are you playing?”

Customer’s Daughter: *Looks up* Pokémon Crystal. My older brother let me play.”

Me: “That’s an awesome older brother you have! I wish my older brother would have been nice enough to let me play his systems; I needed to get my own just to play! Who’s your favorite Pokémon?”

Customer’s Daughter: “Pikachu!”

Me: “Awesome! Mine, too! I know it’s a bit of a reach, but high-five me!”

I reached over the tall service counter to give the girl a high-five, which she returned. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the meat her mom was looking for, but I’ll never forget that little girl and her nice older brother, letting her play games from a generation gone-by!

Related:
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 42
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 41
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 40
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 39
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 38

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Geeks (And Doctors) Come In All Shapes And Sizes

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | July 31, 2020

It’s the middle of winter with a decent amount of snow outside, late in 2006, and I am waiting in line at a shop. The little girl standing right in front of me, about eight, maybe ten years old, is wearing a big, thick, puffy, bright pink winter jacket and a purple hat and gloves.

The little girl turns around and looks up at me, very serious-faced, her head tilted to the side.

I smile down to her and nod in greeting.

The little girl pulls off her gloves, dangling them at the ends of strings, and then unzips her jacket. She pulls one side open and reaches inside to pull out a blue-light sonic screwdriver. As I watch in surprise, she scans me foot to head, head to foot, and then she tosses the screwdriver a few inches up and catches it sideways, staring at it as if examining a readout, in perfect David Tennant style. Then, she gives a satisfied, serious nod, tucks it back into her jacket, zips it up, and turns back around.

“Did… I… Wha… Did you just sonic me?!” I say in shock.

The little girl’s dad turns around to give me the biggest proud grin and then turns back to sign his receipt.


This story is included in our Feel-Good roundup for July 2020!

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Tip Your Delivery Guy A Five

, , , , , | Right | July 31, 2020

I am picking up something from a private address where the door is answered by a boy of about six years old.

Boy: *Holding up his hand* “High-five!”

I gave him a high-five. While I was waiting, a pizza delivery driver also arrived. The boy offered to hold the bottle of drink in his hand so he’d have a spare hand with which to high-five him.

The mother told me that her daughter used to be even fonder of people who came to the door and would regularly ask if she could come home with them and would cry when they left.


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The Travelling Bible

, , , , , , , | Friendly | July 31, 2020

A while back, when I still believed myself religious, I purchased a copy of the New Testament written in Hawai’i Pidgin — an English-Creole dialect — partly for the novelty and partly because I love studying languages and dialects as a hobby. It ended up as nothing more than a shelf decoration after I found myself to be agnostic, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to get rid of it.

A few years pass, and I find myself working with an absolute joy of a human being from Jamaica. We become casual friends and I learn he’s a pastor at his church, among many other hats he wears. He also likes to play a bit of a game with me where he will speak to me only in very rapid Jamaican Patois to see how much I understand — which is mostly everything — and it’s after a bit of this that I remember that particular book on my shelf.

I tell my coworker I have something I want him to look at, and that he can have it if he likes it. Even the possibility of a present has this enormous man doing a literal happy dance, and we part ways grinning.

The next day, I present him the book and he immediately flips it open and starts reading it aloud fluently, which has me excited because I wasn’t sure how similar different Creole dialects were, and it has him excited because this translation gives him a modern level of comprehension that a lot of the older, stuffier English varieties lack. Naturally, I give him the book, and he gushes on about how excited he is to use it for future sermons since there are a lot of immigrants like him at his church.

While I may not ascribe to any particular religion anymore, I like to believe that there is some degree of fate to be found, and if there is, that it’s what had me keep that book through several years of paring down my collection just so that I could give it to a friend one day and make him smile.


This story is included in our Feel-Good roundup for July 2020!

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