I work in a small store where we play music from the boss’s radio. 

Customer: “This is a nice song! Who is it by?”

Me: “This song is called Ever Fallen In Love. The band is called Fine Young Cannibals.”

The religious customer stopped mouthing the words, froze, crossed herself, and then quickly finished her shopping while trying to cover one or both ears.

I came in for a quick three-hour shift for the dinner rush on Christmas Eve. Things were pretty slow but we had several timed orders for 4:00, 4:15, 4:30, 5:00, etc.

I took a couple of normal deliveries, and people were being a little generous, having a good time.

I grabbed a normal bag, a 4:15 timed order that was several large pies with a $91 cash pay, and a 4:30 timed order that was another cash order of two full sheets, and I rushed out the door on my trip.

The ticket didn’t say the 4:15 order was at a church; I only noticed that when I put the address into my GPS.

I got there on time, and they asked me to wait as they were finishing singing a song. The place had a full congregation and a live band with a singer… and I thought I was just waiting for whoever had the cash to pay to come out after the song was over. And, I gotta admit, I was getting a little ticked I was made to wait when it would make the next delivery a few minutes late.

But they asked me to go inside and take the bag up to the stage! As I was unloading, the preacher started thanking me and all food service personnel for working on Christmas Eve in front of the entire congregation. This felt all very strange, to say the least, because here I was in the spotlight in front of everyone.

But he asked if he could say a quick sermon. He said that the spirit of Christmas was about giving, announced they were giving me a $500 tip, and handed over an envelope!

Totally shocked and embarrassed, I managed to say thank you and that I appreciated it, hopefully, loud enough that most could hear, and with my head swimming, I followed a lady to the door.

I completed my other delivery and got back to the shop still dumbfounded. I asked the manager how many people were employed there, and he said twelve. I told him what had happened and asked that he split the $500 with everyone.

At close, they wanted me to take $100 of the $500, and we all were still super surprised about what had happened.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

It’s the Christmas season. I happen to be humming “Sleigh Ride” as I ring up a customer.

Customer: “I’m glad you’re still able to sing Christmas songs. That means you haven’t snapped yet.”

I’m in the break room at work, having lunch. A coworker is listening to music on her phone. Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby” comes up on her playlist. I really dislike the song, but I’m content to say nothing… until she asks for my opinion.

Coworker: “Oh, I just love this song! Don’t you love it?”

Me: “It’s… not my favorite.”

Coworker: “But you like it some, right?”

Me: “Honestly, no. I’m not a fan.”

Coworker: *Scoffs* “That’s so racist.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Coworker: “Just because the singer is black, you don’t like it?”

Me: “No! I don’t like the lyrics. I think they’re trite. Taylor Swift could sing it and I wouldn’t like it. Eartha Kitt had an amazing voice and was a wonderful actress. This particular song isn’t one I like.”

I don’t know if she believed me or not, but I also don’t care that much. She didn’t use logic to reach her conclusion, so I couldn’t very well use logic to convince her otherwise. For whatever it’s worth, both of us are white women, and while I don’t like that one song, she is always the one to vocally complain about our Asian coworker’s “smelly” lunches, while I don’t mind at all.

I’m working in the music section of a large bookstore. I notice a seemingly kind, gentle old woman who is wandering around aimlessly.

Me: “Do you need any help?”

She responds with a very abrasive no, so I leave her to it. About ten minutes later, she comes up to the register, very exasperated.

Customer: “Where can I find music from when music began?”

I don’t really understand what she means, so I ask her to go into more detail about what she is looking for.

Customer: “You know! Music from when music began.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, what do you mean exactly? Like classical music?”

Customer: “Music from when music began. Old music.”

Me: “Um… okay. Well, music has been around far longer than we’ve been able to record it. Do you want older, folky, Americana stuff, or classical music?”

Customer: “Music from when music began.”

Me: “Ma’am, humans have been making music since we were living in caves… Can you explain a little better?”

Customer: “I know what song I’m looking for. It’s called Boomerang Biscuit. It’s from when music began.”

I searched the database and Google trying to find this “Boomerang Biscuit” but found absolutely nothing even close to the song title. I asked her to describe what the song sounded like, and her description sounded very bluesy, so I took her to the blues section. We both just started scanning every CD in the blues section, trying to find something that even sounded like what she was looking for.

Finally, we came across this record.

Turns out “music from when music began” was actually just “Rubber Biscuit” by the Blues Brothers.