(My wife works in a hotel and she relayed this story to me.)

Wife: “Bell department, [Wife] speaking. How may I assist you?”

Customer: “We lost our luggage ticket but need you to bring our bags up.”

Wife: “That’s not a problem, ma’am. Please describe the bags, and tell me how many you have?”

Customer: “Yeah, it was two big black bags. Get them and bring them up right away!”

Wife: “All right, ma’am, I will start looking for those right away, and as soon as we find them a bellman will bring them up.”

Customer: “Hurry up.” *click*

(She looks through the dozens of racks for a grouping of two black bags, then checks the name. This is a big hotel and there are hundreds, if not thousands of bags. After looking through the entire downstairs area for about ten minutes, she calls to get help to look in the upstairs area; she has no luck there, either.)

Wife: *calling the guest back* “I apologize, ma’am, but we were not able to locate two black bags under your name. Could you possibly tell me anything else about them?”

Customer: “For crying out loud, do I have to come down there myself? It’s two black bags; how hard could it be?”

Wife: “Ma’am, this hotel has thousands of rooms; I literally have hundreds of black bags down here from our guests. I just need a bit more to go on. Any luck finding the ticket?”

Customer: “No. Fine, it was two black bags, a grey bag, and a blue suitcase. Sheesh. Why is this so hard?”

Wife: *gritting her teeth and wanting to strangle guest through the phone* “Oh, so it was four bags: two black, one grey bag, and a blue suitcase. As soon as we locate them, the bellman will be up to your room. Give us about ten minutes.”

Customer: “I don’t have all day.” *click*

Wife: *head-desk*

I work for a hotel in Las Vegas. While working security one night, I am sent up to a guest’s room who is having an allergic reaction. I arrive and the man is in a pretty bad way. He has his shirt off, his chest is covered with hives, and his throat is closing so fast he can’t speak and soon may not even be able to breathe.

I call for the paramedics and they arrive fairly quickly. They give the man a shot, and his allergy symptoms quickly begin to get better. When he can finally speak, one paramedic asks if the man is allergic to any kind of food. The man admits he’s severely allergic to shellfish. The paramedic then asks if the man has eaten any shellfish lately. The man then says, “I just came back from a seafood buffet and ate a lot of it because it doesn’t count when you’re in Vegas.”

So many people see the city slogan, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” and think Las Vegas is some kind of negative zone where anything you do doesn’t affect real life.

(I work in a women’s boutique. I’m standing inside the shop by myself since the manager is on break. I have a customer in the fitting room. I see a woman and her daughter pointing and looking through the display window. They eventually come in.)

Woman: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I do. Was there something you’d like to see from the display window?”

Woman: “Oh, no. I just had a question about restaurants.”

Me: “…”

Woman: “My daughter and I want to have brunch, but we only eat gluten-free and organic, and we’re not in the mood for Italian or Chinese. Could you tell me where we could go have brunch?”

(I’m thinking, “Are you serious?”)

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t think of any place, but I can give you this.”

(I give her a little booklet with most of the shows and restaurants close by.)

Woman: “But you work here; you should know.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not familiar with the property’s restaurants. There’s a concierge down the hallway; I’m sure he could tell you where to go.”

Woman: “You work here. Can’t you call around and find out for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that; I have to tend to customers in here.”

(Good thing the customer in the fitting room was ready to be rung up, so “ButYouWorkHere” finally left the shop.)

Today I went to buy groceries at a health food store. Life has been difficult lately. There was fraud on my bank account and because of that, I was $200 overdrawn. I had been looking for work for a few months now; I had to leave my last job because management stole my tips and did not pay overtime.

So, here I was, with a $20 bill that was borrowed from a kind friend, trying to buy enough groceries for the week. As I explained to the cashier that I might not have enough for [item], I noticed a man in line at another register staring at me with a smile on his face. I am certain that I did not know him.

I was thankfully able to afford [item], but I did have to skip some purchases due to my limited budget. The strange man kept smiling at me and staring. I made the sign of the cross and say a quick prayer.

After paying, I sat down at one of the tables to drink a tea I had bought. The strange man approached me and I was a bit scared. He then handed me a ten dollar bill and said, “I hope this can help you.” I managed to thank him before he walked away. I also said, “I misunderstood your intentions towards me.”

And yes, I went back through the store to pick up a few additional items!

God bless you, Staring Stranger. I hope to one day pay for someone’s groceries as you have done for me.

(I have worked at a veterinarian office as a receptionist for the last ten years and know how to read people pretty well. At this particular practice, pets that are getting procedures done are scheduled to be dropped off no later than 8:30 am. This means that by the time I come in at 9:00 am, all the procedure pets are already at the office. The first thing I do is check the schedule to see what appointments are due to come in. A husband and wife come into the office looking visibly distressed. The husband is holding a bundle of towels in his arms very protectively. This is common for people who are coming in with very sick or old pets. I motion for them to come over to my desk.)

Me: “What’s going on there?”

Husband: “This is [Dog].”

(He looks like he is about to cry and doesn’t elaborate the reason for his visit. I remember from looking at the schedule that there is a pet by the same name due to come in to get euthanized. The office has a very strict euthanasia policy. The doctor must examine the pet prior to the procedure, and if the pet appears healthy we will not euthanize. I can partially see the pet wrapped in the towels and can tell that it matches the breed due to come in, but looks it to be healthy. I make a note in the chart so the doctor knows what he is getting into when he does the exam. I motion for them to follow me into the room we leave open for pets that are getting put to sleep.)

Wife: “[Doctor] said we can wait in the office until the procedure is over.” *sniffing into a tissue*

Me: “You can stay as long as you like; there is no rush. If you like you can even stay in the room with her. Let me just get you to fill out the forms, and I will let the doctor know you are here.”

Wife: “We already filled these out.” *barks at me without looking at the forms*

Me: “Okay, let me check your account and see if I can find them.”

(I check the account, and I don’t see any signed euthanasia forms.)

Me: “I am so sorry, but I was unable to find the signed forms. Do you mind filling them out again for me?”

Wife: “Fine.” *goes to sign forms again without looking at them*

Husband: “EUTHANASIA! WHAT THE F***?! [Dog] is here for a [drop-off procedure]!”

Wife: “WHAT?! OH, MY GOD! WHAT THE H*** WERE YOU THINKING?! WHAT IF I SIGNED THAT?! YOU WOULD HAVE KILLED MY DOG!”

Me: “I am so sorry. It was an honest mistake, but don’t worry; we never would have euthanized your pet. [Doctor] always does an exam…”

Wife: “NO! You tried to kill my puppy!”

(Both husband and wife left the room, all the while yelling that I tried to kill their dog to all the other clients in the waiting room. I went straight to the office manager and let her know what happened. I let her know that I didn’t know that there were two dogs that have the same name and breed due to come in on the same day, as well as having a drop-off procedure come in later then is required. I admitted that I didn’t ask the client’s name and that was my mistake. My office manager agrees that it was an honest mistake and anyone would have made the same one. Later an agent from the Better Business Bureau called and took my statement about the incident, and I never heard anything about it again, nor did those clients ever come back.)