I’m having one of those days where everything goes wrong. I’m travelling home from having medical tests done when my car breaks down and can’t be fixed until tomorrow, my credit card and debit card aren’t working, my phone dies, and it’s pouring rain and freezing cold.

I’m in an unfamiliar city but have just enough cash for a cheap hotel for the night when I spot a really nice hotel way out of my budget. The hotel lobby is pretty busy with people checking in, so I let a few people go ahead. I’m wet, cold, have been crying, and look a complete mess.

Receptionist: “Hi, welcome to [Hotel]. Thank you for your patience. How can I help you?”

Me: “No problem. I’m happy to be out of the weather. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I’m trying to find a room for tonight. I know this place is way out of my budget, but I’m hoping you can either point me in the right direction or let me charge my phone for a minute?”

Receptionist: “Oh, no problem at all.” *Looks at the computer* “The cheapest I can do for tonight is [amount way over what I have].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I only have [amount] in cash. My car broke down on [Street nearby], and my bank cards decided to stop working. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’m not from here and really just want somewhere warm and safe to shower and sleep.”

The receptionist taps away at the computer for a minute.

Receptionist: “If I can get you into a room for [amount I have], I will have to disable the pay-for-view movies. You will have access to free Wi-Fi, normal TV channels, and the cable channels. Room service will be cash on delivery, and there’s absolutely no smoking anywhere in the building.”

Me: “Of course! Thank you so much. I really just need somewhere warm and safe. After the day I’ve had, I just want a hot shower and a bed, and I’ll sort everything out in the morning.”

She makes a copy of my ID and takes payment for the room.

I thank her profusely, making sure to take note of her name, before heading to my room. My room is beautiful with a gorgeous view, a balcony overlooking the city, a spa bath, etc. — everything you’d expect of a high-class hotel. I am just about to take advantage of the spa bath when the room phone rings.

Receptionist: “Hi, this is [Receptionist]. I’m just wondering if you’re vegetarian or vegan or have any food allergies? Anything you don’t like to eat?”

Me: *Confused* “Oh, no, I’m not vegan or anything, and I have no allergies. I eat pretty much anything.”

Receptionist: “Brilliant. I realized you probably don’t have anything to eat tonight, and no one should go hungry. I’m going to send some room service up to you on us. Should be about half an hour. Is that okay?”

Me: “Oh, wow! Thank you so much. I was just about to have a bath and head to bed. I figured skipping dinner wouldn’t hurt for one night.”

Receptionist: “You’re welcome. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call reception. We’re here twenty-four hours.”

I thanked them profusely again before hanging up. Not long after that, room service arrived with an amazing three-course dinner and a fairly expensive bottle of wine.

I decided to look up the prices of everything. Not only had the receptionist reduced the rate greatly (I paid less than the cheapest I could find online for a lower-level room), but the meal itself cost more than what I paid. She had also not taken a $500 deposit which was the hotel’s policy for guests paying cash.

The next day, I was able to get my bank cards sorted out and my car fixed. I dropped off a gift card for a coffee chain and a thank-you card. I made sure to put reviews on every travel site I could find, and I messaged corporate, mentioning the receptionist by name for going above and beyond in customer service. (I didn’t go into too much detail, not wanting her to get into trouble.)

I realize that she could have lost her job and maybe even been liable if I had trashed the room. But she still took the chance and made sure I was warm, safe, and fed. I will be forever grateful to her.

The president of our company got completely plastered at our company’s Christmas party. His speech started off funny because he was slurring hard and he was playing on it.

Then, he started talking about how he had come from nothing and become something. Then, he proceeded to tell us how if it wasn’t for us working so hard and keeping our clients happy, he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish building his mega-mansion for himself and his family, nor would he have been able to afford his new Mercedes-Benz.

Things got really quiet among the employees, and there was some awkward and disgruntled muttering among the employees. The president became vaguely aware that something had gone south, but his inebriation kept him from figuring it out. Ramping up his false cheer, he then dropped this gem.

President: “Drink up and enjoy, because due to budget cuts, the future Christmas party and bonus budget is canceled from here on out!”

I’m amazed no one got up and punched him in the face or told him what they REALLY thought of him. Many of my coworkers relied on that bonus, and absolutely no one was impressed.

Except for one person, the rest of us quit within the first few months into the new year. The boss, who had apparently been blackout drunk, seemed very confused that he lost so much of his staff in such short order.

Me: “This is [My Name] with [Bank]’s fraud department. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’m at a casino, and I don’t get why my card isn’t working! This is my third call tonight! It’s my money, and I need it now!”

Me: “I see the fraud alert has already been cleared out. Are you still getting declined?”

Caller: “Yes, I am, and I’m not getting any texts or emails. I work for a different bank, and I know that’s supposed to happen, so your bank isn’t doing its f****** job!”

I look up the reason for the decline.

Me: “Looks like you’re getting declined because you’ve exceeded the number of declines for one day. Let me go ahead and reset that. Give it about sixty seconds, and you can try again.”

Caller: “Transaction declined! What the f*** is your problem? I actually left the casino and drove out to find one of your ATMs because it wasn’t working there! I’m trying to get $1,000 so I can gamble at the casino! What’s the f****** problem here?”

I check the decline reason again’.

Me: “It says that the amount exceeds your daily limit. I’m showing that you have a daily ATM withdrawal limit of $500 per day.”

Caller: “WHAT?! ARE YOU F****** SERIOUS?! I can’t survive a single day only being able to withdraw $500 from the ATM! You’ve given me so many f****** different answers! I’m changing banks!” *Click*

In the early 1990s, I worked for a bank, and every year they’d have a donation thing among the employees to raise money for a charitable cause. (I’ve long since forgotten what organization it was for, but I do remember that it was one that’s well known for paying their executives a lot while actually using very little for the cause.)

Human Resources would always say, “You don’t have to give.” But there was an unspoken, “…but you’d better.”

This was proven when one of my workers (getting minimum wage) simply could not give. HR harassed him to the breaking point, and he gave them every penny he had left: thirty-six cents.

And then, the HR lady came to me, all ticked off over his donation.

Me: “What more do you want? He gave every cent he had until payday at the end of the month.”

She left and reported him to our department officer.

I used to work in the arrears department of an energy company. Most of the time, my job involved taking calls from customers, but on occasion, field agents would call us to give updates or ask questions.

Field agents weren’t bailiffs; they were just staff we sent to try and speak to the customer in person, and if not, hand-deliver a letter. Sometimes debts weren’t paid because the customer had died or a new tenant had moved in, or sometimes they would find the property had been demolished and we hadn’t been informed. Field agents could also offer help, including going through income and expenditure forms to work out a payment plan.

One day, I got a call from one of our field agents. He had been a field agent for over twenty years. Before that, he had been a bailiff for the local county council. There wasn’t much that could rattle a man with that much experience. But that day, I could tell something was up. He sounded… upset.

He gave me a customer account number and asked me to put the customer on our reduced tariff: a price plan with extremely low unit and service charge prices specifically for vulnerable customers, such as the disabled or those on specific benefits.

As I went through the account, he explained what had happened.

[Field Agent] had visited the customer, where he discovered that she was living in abject poverty with an infant. They lived in one room of the house because it was all she could afford to heat, and even then, the room was bitterly cold. She looked gaunt and pale. Her cupboards were bare, and she only had one tin of baby formula. The baby didn’t have a crib and instead slept in a cardboard box on the floor. She had no furniture, only a mattress on the floor.

It turned out that while she was in the hospital giving birth, her husband had run off with his coworker who he had gotten pregnant. He had taken all the things they had bought for their baby to give to his mistress, including the crib, all the baby clothes, and all the toys.

To add insult to injury, he had also cleared out their bank accounts and left her with nothing. He never came to see the baby and never paid any child support. He didn’t even bring any food or gifts for his child.

This poor woman had been trying her best — even paying us a few pounds every week without fail. She didn’t have any family who could help her, either. Even her in-laws seemed uninterested and ignored her. It was just her and her baby.

[Field Agent] went through various forms with her as per his job, and then he shut himself in his van to cry.

He had seen it all; he had been attacked by customers (often with a weapon), had dogs set on him, and had even found a corpse at a few properties. But this… this broke him.

He gave the poor woman his lunch, which he said she ate like a starved animal. Then, he sat down with her for several hours and let her use his personal phone (she didn’t have one) to call various charities. He managed to put her in touch with an organisation that would help make sure she was on all the right benefits and would help her get legal aid to get child support from her scumbag husband.

I removed all the fees on the account and backdated the lower tariff as far back as I could.

At the end of his shift, [Field Agent] went back to the woman’s house and brought nappies (diapers), baby formula, and several bags of essential groceries, as well as a cheap mobile phone he had picked up so she could take calls from the various people helping her.

When he got home, he asked his family and friends if they had any baby clothes they were no longer using. He ended up with two black sacks full of baby clothes, as well as some toys, and his neighbour donated a buggy, all of which he delivered to the woman a few days later.

She later wrote us a letter expressing her gratitude and thanking [Field Agent] for all his help.

[Field Agent] would occasionally check in on the woman if he could. I would always ask him for an update when he stopped by the office to drop off paperwork. Last I heard, the woman had been moved to a council house which was much nicer than her musty, rundown home, and she had a court date for finally getting the child support payments she was owed.

Years later, I still wonder about that woman and her son and hope they’re doing well.