(A young gay couple has become my favorite regulars at the small restaurant where I work. One day as I am talking with them, an older, more conservative-looking man walks past us to the To-Go pickup area. He stops short next to us, and in the same moment, I see one of the young guys look down with a panicked expression at where he is holding his boyfriend’s hand.)

Older Man: “[Name]! I didn’t know you ate here!”

Young Man: *uncomfortable* “Oh, yeah, um… it’s halfway between work and my… boyfriend’s work, so.”

Older Man: *glances at the young man’s boyfriend* “Oh.”

(There is an awkward pause, where we all just stare at each other.)

Older Man: “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” *offers his hand to the young man’s boyfriend* “I’m [Older Man], [Young Man]’s boss. Very nice to meet you. We all love [Young Man] in the office.”

Young Man’s Boyfriend: “Oh! Nice to meet you, too! You know, [Young Man] is always talking about how much he looks up to you.”

(The young man is so visibly relieved that he is near tears. The three make some more small talk before the older man heads off to pick up his lunch. I end up taking his payment and he quietly asks me to pay for the young man and his boyfriend’s meal as well.)

Older Man: “You know… when I was growing up, I was taught that being gay was bad, a sin. But that young man is the brightest kid I’ve ever known, and I can’t see a d*** thing wrong with him…” *pauses* “…or his boyfriend.”

(He smiled at me and then walked away without another word. To this day, I can’t think about the look on the young man’s face when I told him that his boss paid for his nearly $100 meal without wanting to cry.)

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(In the 70s, my mother worked in the business office of a company that handled food supply. One of the superiors had a habit of speaking to women but looking only at their chests. She has a meeting with him in his office one day.)

Manager: *staring at my mother’s chest* “Do you have the reports I asked you to type up?”

My Mother: “Yes, Sir.”

(She hands him the papers. Throughout reading them, he looks up to comment, though his eyes never go far up.)

Manager: “Well, it seems we have everything here, [My Mother’s Name]. Good job. Let’s put this back in the folder and I can send it to—”

(He pauses as he looks up. My mother has written on the manila folder, “MY EYES ARE UP HERE” with an arrow pointing at her face and has it held up right over her chest. Her manager turned beet red and would never speak to her directly again!)

(My boyfriend and I are at a breakfast food restaurant. Our waitress (#1) so far has been decent; the order was right, she got me a different drink because the first was too sweet, etc. As we are finishing, we hear another waitress (#2) yell at her.)

Waitress #2: “Hey [Waitress #1]! What the f*** did you do with my pen? I told you I needed it right back!”

Waitress #1: “If I was done with it, I’d have given it back to you.”

Waitress #2: “Look, lil’ girl—”

(At this point they go into the kitchen, but we can still hear them yelling at each other, peppered with profanities. Waitress #2 comes out and goes to a table Waitress #1 is waiting on. The customers have already gone and left the check holder on the edge of the table. Waitress #2 smacks the bottom of the check holder, flipping it over and causing it to land in a plate of food the customers had left on the table.)

Me: *to my boyfriend* “Oh my God, I can’t believe she just did that! We better go before there’s a real fight!”

Boyfriend: “No, let’s see if our waitress wins. If she does, she gets the better tip!”

Customer: “I would like to buy some top round meat. Are those good for grilling?”

Me: “No, ma’am, not really. It’s part of the leg and they’re better to marinate first because it’s kind of a tough muscle.”

Customer: “Oh, no I don’t want the muscle. Just give me the meat!”

(A dad and his three kids who are all around 7 or 8 years old is my checkout line. He is buying four six-packs of tall cans of liquor.)

Me: “That will be $26.”

Dad: “Okay.” *pulls money out of his pockets* “Shoot, I only have $20.”

(He turns to one of his kids.)

Dad: “Yo, lend me six bucks.”

Kid: “S***, get your own money!”

Dad: “Come on, I just need six more dollars.”

Kid: F*** you.”

Dad: “Hey, come on! I’ll pay you back when we get home!”

Kid: *hands him some money and mumbles* “Broke a** motherf***er.”