It’s the dead of winter, it’s almost 8:00 pm, I’ve just finished work five hours late, and I’m exhausted and hungry. The day has been a nightmare from the start and I’m at the end of my rope for dealing with nonsense. I’m not angry, just worn out. I stop off at a sandwich shop on my way home.

I get in line behind a gaggle of fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds. No biggie, I haven’t eaten since lunch, so what’re a few more minutes?

From the start, the teenagers are snotty and entitled, almost deliberately trying to fluster the cashier. I think about saying something, but with the mood I am in, it wouldn’t go well. Instead, I just walk out and go to another location of the same chain not too far away.

I walk in, and thankfully, this one is quiet. I must look about as good as I am feeling because the man behind the counter strikes up a conversation. I don’t go into detail or mention anything about the other shop, but it is nice to have someone listen for a minute.

We chat a bit more as he cashes me out, and by the end, I have a smile on my face — or as much of one as I can manage. I thank him for the food and for listening, and I finish my drive home.

When I open the bag up, I find that the employee slipped in a handful of extra cookies. He went out of his way to make my awful day better.

It’s been a few years since this happened and I still haven’t forgotten it. Whoever you are, thank you. I hope the world has returned your kindness.

Related:
And That’s How The CEO Cookie Crumbles
And That’s How The Stolen Cookie Crumbles
And That’s How The Ninth Cookie Crumbles
And That’s How The Cookie Infuriatingly Crumbles
And That’s How The Cookie Mathematically Crumbles

I was a cashier at a grocery store that had a little bit of everything. One of my coworkers was known to dye her hair crazy but very pretty colors. Encouraged by her confidence, I went and did the same. I chose a brand with the color “Violet Dream.” My mother, who worked as a personal shopper in this store, did the bleaching and dying herself.

I was getting compliments galore from our regulars and coworkers alike when I got a nasty woman in my line. This “lady” was known for complaining, especially about me, since I wore sunglasses for a medical condition.

Me: “Hello, Mrs. [Customer]. Find everything all right today?”

Customer: “Hmph!”

She loaded her items onto my belt without a word. I glanced at my bagger and let him know how she liked her items bagged as I began scanning. She only had about seven items, so she quickly got to my payment terminal. That’s when she finally looked up.

Customer: “What is wrong with you?”

Surprised, I looked up. I half-expected her to be making a statement about my glasses.

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “First, you wear those glasses, and now your hair? Your parents must be ashamed of you.”

This hit a bit of a sore spot, as I had just lost my dad recently in a car crash. At this point, I didn’t care if I got in trouble.

Me: “Well. Considering I just lost my dad to a drunk driver and my mom did my hair for me, I’m pretty sure they don’t mind. But if you want to ask, my mother is right over there.”

I pointed to my mom, who was printing labels for her bags. My customer just huffed, finished paying, and stormed off without her receipt. She never talked to my mom, who found the whole incident funny but told me to call her over next time so she could go Momma Bear Mode.

I was working on a dance production at university. One of the choreographers was an insufferable snob; however, he was also the publicity manager for this production.

For the production logo, he designed a small circular sun with some graceful curves in front of it, each pair of which intersected. To the entire production team, they looked like abstract birds; however, the ar-TISTE scoffed down his nose at us uncultured Philistines as these were OBVIOUSLY hills (an image which coincidentally matched the theme of his personal dance piece).

The production director was completely oblivious to the drama this guy was creating, which made this particular production meeting that much more memorable.

Me: “Okay. Next on the agenda is publicity.”

Choreographer: “The mural on the Performing Arts Center wall is being painted as we speak. The department website has been updated, and the posters are due to go to the printer this afternoon.”

Production Director: “Perfect. You know, I’ve said it before, but I love the simplicity of your design this year.”

Choreographer: “Thank you!”

Production Director: “The simplicity of those birds flying against the blank canvas of the sky is so moving.”

We could feel the rage seething within our high and mighty artist while the entire production team at the table desperately tried to suppress our laughter. He continued to insist they were hills, just outside of [Production Director]’s hearing, and with much less frequency than before.

I was working at the cash register when I had a woman cut the line and start screaming at me.

Woman: “I put the wrong information on this prepaid card, and now I can’t access my funds! Open your register and give me $1,000 now!”

Me: “I can’t do that, ma’am. One, prepaid cards are nonrefundable. Two, you just admitted that it was your mistake. And three, we don’t keep that much cash in our registers, anyway. I can call a manager to assist you if you’d like.”

Woman: “No! You! You will give me my money!”

I just leaned back on the wall behind me with my biggest smile.

Me: “Ma’am, there is absolutely nothing I can do for you. But if it makes you feel better to scream at me, go ahead. I can take it.”

A manager finally escorted her away after she’d screamed a bit more. No, she didn’t get her money back, and I have yet to be sued as she threatened me.

I work in a small on-campus pub at a university in Germany.

Me: “One small beer is 1,50€.”

Student: “Oh, come on. Can’t I just pay the price for close friends?”

This is “Freundschaftspreis” in German.

Me: “Well, okay. One small beer is 2€, then.”

Student: “Wait, what?”

Me: “We are a non-profit. Friends do support us and pay more.”

We managed this pub in our spare time and didn’t get any money for it. Every bit of income was used to maintain the pub. We could, however, get a few drinks for free when we worked, so if someone was really broke and nice about it, we often gave them our free drinks, but not if they were nagging us about it.