(I am a teller at a credit union. It is a Saturday and I am covering the phones in the basement. Our credit union has about nine different locations. I answer a phone call and this happens:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Credit Union]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I think I left my ID in your drive-thru; can you check for me?”

Me: “I can look into that. Can you just tell me which location you were at so I can contact them to check?”

Customer: “I don’t understand; I just need to see if I left my ID there. Do you have it?”

Me: “We have nine different locations, so I have to know which one to contact to check if they have your ID.”

Customer: “I just need to know if you have my ID!”

Me: “I just need to know which location you went to.”

Customer: “Great! I’ll be by to pick it up soon!” *hangs up*

Me: “…?”

(A while later I went upstairs to scan my check and could hear the tellers helping the drive-thru customers. I heard my coworker say, “You called to find your ID? I don’t see it here. They told you it was here?” I about lost my mind. I explained the situation to the teller, and the dude left, all mad. I never told him we had his ID.)

(My son has an extremely diverse group of friends, both racially and economically. One set of brothers he knows is from a family of recent immigrants that are struggling a bit financially. The group of them are discussing places they would like to visit someday.)

Son: “I really want to go to the Marquesas or somewhere like that, but it sounds pretty expensive.”

Brother #1: “I want to go to Bora Bora.”

Brother #2: *looks at him and replies* “Dude, we are never going to Bora Bora. We’re Poor-a Poor-a!”

(The entire table dissolved into laughter.)

(I work in a true dollar store; everything really is a dollar or less, so the company cuts corners where they can to save on expenses. Some bank has put out television commercials explaining that their “new” debit cards “work just like a check!” A customer comes up with an armful of items. Not much at all. I scan everything.)

Me: “Your total is [amount less than ten dollars].”

Customer: *silently hands me a card*

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry! We only accept cash or checks.”

Customer: “This is a check.”

Me: “No, it’s a debit card. We only accept paper checks.”

Customer: “This IS a check. It is a check card.”

Me: “Yes, I know. But we don’t accept them. We never have.”

Customer: “You said you accept checks. This is a check card. You will accept it.”

Me: “I’m afraid we can’t. We have never accepted debit cards.”

Customer: “It works just like a check!”

Me: “Actually, it really doesn’t. It takes money from your checking account, yes, but using them requires additional equipment that the store does not have as well as a dedicated phone line, I believe.”

(Our cash registers are extremely barebones. Barely a step above old-fashioned mechanical types as far as capabilities go.)

Customer: “Are you calling my bank a liar?”

Me: “Maybe not a liar, but certainly misleading from the business perspective.”

Customer: “Well I don’t HAVE cash or a check! YOU just lost the store a sale.”

Me: “Sorry?”

I’ve been going through a bit of a rough time lately and living from paycheck to paycheck. The day I get paid, I can’t sleep, and I head to the ATM at 4:30 am leaving my partner at home with our two kids.

Since I’m with a bank that has recently shut most of their branches, I have to use a different bank. The ATM gives my card back without the cash before displaying a system error. I check my online banking to find it has taken the money from my account but not actually given me the cash.

I call my bank to find out I have to go into a branch to dispute it and it will take up to two weeks. By the time the bank opens, I’m a complete mess, I have two kids that need nappies and formula, we have no food in the house, both my partner and I need medication, and we have rent to pay.

The first employee fills out a dispute transaction form and then tells me there’s nothing else they can do as I’m receiving government benefits — which actually is this bank’s policy on overdrafts. She then gets the branch manager. The manager spends over an hour on the phone but reassures me that if they can’t sort it out today, she will give me $100 out of her own account to make sure we at least have the basics until it’s sorted out or until my partner gets paid in a few days.

In the end, she manages to get an overdraft for the full amount I am due. I truly believe she would have given me the money from her own account, too. Before I leave she gives me a hug.

To the manager of the branch of a small, out-of-state bank in Melbourne City, if you’re reading this, thank you for going above and beyond for a very stressed-out, crying woman. Your kindness and understanding are amazing.

(I work the checkout. It’s almost nine pm when a customer comes through my till. We go through the hi-how-are-you’s and how-is-your-days. He speaks perfect English and is very obviously from Australia.)

Customer: *scans through products*

Me: “That will be $12.50.”

Customer: *hands me a ten-dollar note and looks at me expectantly*

Me: “That will be $12.50, sir.”

Customer: *blinks at me for a few seconds*

Me: *a little more slowly* “12… 50… sir.”

(He then starts looking back in his wallet; I am still holding the note in my outstretched hand. Then he grabs the ten dollars and puts it on the counter and hands me a different ten dollar note, as well as a five.)

Me: *pretending like nothing happened* “Thank you, sir.” *hands back change*

Customer: *finally catching up to what he did* “That really didn’t make much sense, did it? What can I say; it’s been a really long day.”