Some years back, when we were about 16 or so, my best friend and I volunteered to help out at a Human Trafficking Awareness campaign. It was held at a mall. We were basically live “mannequins” in shop windows, acting as different kinds of human trafficking victims, while other volunteers handed out leaflets and talked with shoppers and passers-by about human trafficking.

All the live mannequins had makeup done by a professional, giving us fake bruises, cuts, and whatnot. They were very realistic; the person who did our makeup worked on local movie and TV sets as a makeup artist. I was given a particularly nasty bruised eye and a split lip, as well as random bruises around my arm. My friend had bruises on her cheek and cuts on her forehead and arms.

We worked in shifts of one or two hours, and during one of our breaks, my friend and I decided to get some food from a nearby restaurant, also inside the mall, since we were hungry, and lunch wasn’t for another few hours. We got some weird stares from people, and many double-takes as we walked to the restaurant.

Nobody said anything or approached us, until we were lining up to place our order at the counter. An elderly lady was walking by when she spotted us chatting, and paused, doing a double-take. Instead of moving on like everyone else, though, she approached us and asked, in a mixture of broken English and Cantonese, if our boyfriends had beaten us up and if we needed help. We quickly assured her that we were fine and that it was part of a campaign. She didn’t look so convinced, and said something to the effect of, “Are you sure? You don’t have to lie and cover it up for him.” I ended up wiping a little of the fake blood and one of the bruises on my arm off to show her, and handing her a flier I luckily had on me.

She happily went on her way after that.

It’s something that has stuck with me after all these years. Out of everyone who saw what appeared to be genuine bruises and cuts on our faces and hands, she went out of her way to stop and ask us how we were doing.

I work in a large craft store. Most customers aren’t terrible, though there are a few “special” ones that ruin your week. This customer was the opposite.

She came in wanting to buy crafts to make with her nine-year-old grandson. I nanny two nine-year-old boys as a side job, so I volunteered to help her. It turns out her grandson lives abroad, and she hadn’t seen him since he was four, because travel is so expensive and she’s not in the best health.

We spent a good half hour walking around and finding cool things to do together, because she wasn’t totally sure what he would like. We covered all the bases, from dinosaurs, to outer space, to building, to painting, to costumes, and everything in between. It was fun. She was very nice, and almost vibrating with excitement about the upcoming visit. It gets better, though.

The next week, she came back in just to show me pictures of their awesome projects. I almost teared up. They built this entire mini-city, spending four straight days working together and bonding. He got to use a hand saw and hot glue and other tools, and in every picture he was covered in paint and dust and absolutely beaming.

Those pictures make all the mean customers and the sore feet worth it. Everyone loves feeling appreciated, and customer service workers don’t get nearly enough.

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(I am a cashier at a very nice grocery store. During a slow day, a small boy — about eight to ten years old — runs up to the belt.)

Boy: “Can you just watch these groceries for a second? I need to get my grandma.”

(Since it’s a slow day, I agree. The boy soon comes running back with his grandmother, who is in one of those motorized carts. She has a tank of oxygen in the cart and is moving slowly. The boy runs around happily putting all the groceries on the belt. I see a lot of soda, a lot of bottled water, and other things.)

Grandmother: *to the boy* “Do you think you have enough snacks there for Six Flags?

Me: “Oh, you’re going to Six Flags? Awesome!”

Boy: “I KNOW! I’m so excited! I get to see my mom again, ‘cause she’s working two jobs!”

(Yes, he does say that. Oversharing, I’m sure, but he was so enthusiastic about it.)

Grandmother: *to me* “I won the tickets online. I couldn’t believe it; it was the first time I’d won anything!”

(By now, their groceries are all scanned. My bagger, as is the custom, asks if they would like help out.)

Boy: “No, thanks; I’ve got it!”

(He proceeded to stand patiently by while his grandmother paid, then pushed the cart out, waiting for her. Totally restored my faith in his generation. He was so mature for his age, and so capable. Wherever he is, I hope he had a lot of fun at Six Flags! Best. Customer. Ever.)

(I work at an ice-skating rink as a trainer, and I also help people who are having trouble free-skating. A girl comes in with her boyfriend, and it’s fairly obvious they’ve never skated before. They’re having a great time laughing and dancing, and even when they fall, they laugh it off and get up. I give them a few tips here and there, but I focus my work on some of the younger kids who are frightened. An hour or so later, as free-skate is ending, the girl approaches me.)

Girl: “Hi. I was just wondering if I could speak to your manager?”

Me: “Oh, of course! Let me go get him.”

Manager: “What can I do for you today?”

Girl: “I just wanted you to know that [My Name] was absolutely amazing! We had a great time, and she was always everywhere at once to help anyone who needed it. Without her, we wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun!”

Manager: “I’m glad to hear that! We don’t get many compliments in this line of work, but they really do help to gauge our performance. [My Name] is only a couple of good reviews away from a bonus!”

Girl: “So, is this one of those places that gives bonuses based on guest feedback?”

Manager: “Yes, it is!”

Girl: “And do you count the feedback based on groups or individuals?”

Manager: “Well, there’s no real way to tell if the people who have come in were part of a group or not, once you write the review down.”

(After a couple of minutes of thinking, the girl and her boyfriend each wrote a review, thanked us, and walked out. Later on that week, my manager got a call from her asking when I would be working next, and on that day she brought in nearly thirty people! My manager gave them a group discount, and they all had a great time. At the end, the girl made each and every one of them write a review for me. I ended up getting that bonus, and a promotion on top of it! If you read this, thank you so much for being so awesome!)

When I was in high school, I was a serious history geek. My Civil Air Patrol unit volunteered to help out at an airshow every year, and when we weren’t doing volunteer shifts, our time was our own. The first year I went, I was struck by how cool the reenactors were, and I decided that I wanted to do some reenacting, too. I did my research, and decided on a persona that I thought I could accurately portray. I tried to find a unit local to me but had no luck. I saved my money to rent a uniform and equipment, and I had to talk my parents into letting me do all of this.

The second year at the air show, after my volunteer shift, I changed into my persona’s clothes and went out to wander around the reenacting units, hoping to meet up in person with some groups I’d read about online. I was (and am) a bit socially awkward and shy, so it took a serious amount of investment to make myself get out there and try to talk to people.

To my dismay, one of the units I’d read about on the Internet was a lot more standoffish than I’d hoped, and one member even pointed out some discrepancies with my uniform. I was able to explain that I knew that what I was wearing was different from what most of the unit was wearing, and what that signified (artillery vs infantry, if anyone cares!), but it really didn’t seem to help, and I left the encampment feeling like a total failure at both reenacting and talking to people.

Still in uniform, thinking about how I’d never reenact again, I went to get food and sat down at a long table by myself. A total stranger took a seat across from me, correctly identified that I was supposed to be in the artillery, and complimented me on my unusual but totally valid choice of persona. We started talking, and he said it was so nice to see a younger person take an interest in history like this. We talked for a good twenty minutes, and I’ll never forget how he totally changed my mind on reenacting. He re-convinced me! While I didn’t go back to that event (or that time period), I still do reenacting, and I’ve come to realize that if you do your research, people will appreciate it.