(I’ve recently cut my shoulder-blade-length hair, which I usually keep in a ponytail, to chin-length. Despite having been with him for several hours, it takes until bedtime for the three-year-old I babysit to notice. He likes to hold onto my ponytail while he sits on my lap, for reasons unknown, and when we’re reading a story, he goes to do just that… before realizing there isn’t one. He looks at me with concern.)

Child: “[My Name], did you leave your ponytail at home today?!”

Me: “No, honey, I cut my hair. It’s gone now.”

Child: “But where is it?”

Me: “It was cut off when I got my hair cut. Like when Mama cuts your hair.”

Child: “What happened to it?”

Me: “It was thrown away.”

Child: “In the road?”

Me: “Uh…”

Child: “You need to get it!”

(No amount of explaining could dissuade him of the idea that I couldn’t just re-attach about six inches of hair to the back of my head, even if I had kept it.)

(I was assigned female at birth but am experimenting with gender presentation. I am currently trying to tie a tie as part of a formal business outfit. This is taking a while, as I keep messing it up. My mother sees me.)

Mum: “Don’t wear a tie. The older ladies will think you’re wearing a costume.”

Me: “I never thought of it that way. Should I wear a necklace, instead?”

Mum: “That would be perfect.”

(I ended up going to the meeting wearing a very pretty necklace, a chest binder, and a sock packer.)

(Since I started working in a charity shop, I’ve learned that people are not above arguing over prices or even stealing from us even though our role is to raise funds for our organisation. I’ve come to low-key dread customers looking at certain items — if a donated item is brand-new or from an expensive brand, we tend to sell it at about half its retail price, depending on the condition. A very friendly lady comes in to look at shoes, and goes straight for a €40 leather pair that have an original price of €198 still on them. They don’t fit, but she finds two cheaper new pairs that do between conversations. Sadly, we don’t take card payments, so she has to go out to get cash while we hold her items. It takes a while for her to come back, but she does return with exact change!) 

Customer: *after handing over cash* “Are there just the three of you here today?”

Coworker: “Yeah, it’s just us–” *indicating me* “–and [Supervisor] for now.”

(She then hands us three chocolate bars from an open four-pack.)

Customer: “Here, you have these for your tea break. God knows I don’t need to eat them all!”

(Having a customer be so nice and NOT argue or dither over such prices was a rare treat, but this little gesture really made our day. Lady, I wish you all the best with your shoes and everything else in life!)

(A couple comes in, and it is immediately obvious that English is not their first language. They point to the menu and state a couple of things, but it seems they want to order something specific.)

Male Customer: “I… uh…” *makes drinking motion*

Me: “Drink, yes. Coffee? Tea?”

Female Customer: “Coffee! Yes!”

Male Customer: “And… uh…”

(He is looking increasingly frustrated, and I want to find a way to reassure him. I notice he is wearing a Star Trek shirt, and the wife has a Starfleet insignia necklace, so I assume these two are not just passing fans.)

Me: “Raktajino?”

(They both pause, smile, and nod vigorously. I give them the Vulcan salute, and we manage to  get their order together with less stress and more laughing. They wanted a mocha and a salad. After they are seated my coworker comes over.)

Coworker: “What did you say to them?”

Me: “‘Coffee’ in Klingon.”

My grandfather recently passed away. Known for his frugality, he bought his burial plot in the cemetery at his summer home’s church when they were having some sort of sale, and he got a “super deal.” His brother-in-law and sister also bought a plot at the same time, and his brother-in-law passed six years prior to my grandfather’s death. My grandfather was a businessman and dabbled in many trades and industries and owned most of his own businesses. His most prominent one — and the one that lasted the longest and was his passion — was real estate.

We gathered around the gravesite for the burial service. Afterward, we wanted to walk to my great-uncle’s gravesite, which we could make out in the distance, but was still in view of my grandfather’s gravesite. In an effort to lighten the mood, my cousin said the following:

“Corner plot, direct line of sight from Old Uncle Jack, plenty of parking on both sides, beautiful greenery, location at his favorite church on the Cape… He really was a real estate man. Location, location, location!”

We all laughed and appreciated his humor after an emotional and somber week.