One day at our Tribal Casino, an Idiot Guest discovered he had to go visit the restroom. In a stroke of absolute brilliance, he flagged down a lady to watch his machine. [Idiot Guest] is so named because instead of asking staff, who wear a very obvious staff uniform, he asked a complete stranger to watch a machine that had $600 of his own money on it.

Can you guess what happened? If you guessed that she cashed it out onto a ticket and left, you get a cookie!

There was a whole fiasco. The floor manager told him that he was an idiot. Security told him that he was an idiot. The cage girl told him that he was an idiot. Thus, his name was coined.

They reprinted his ticket after checking the cameras to verify that it was stolen, he got his money, and all was well. Personally, I think they should have let [Idiot Guest] learn the expensive lesson the hard way… but wishful thinking is wishful.

In any case, the plot spun on its axis. Guess what happened next?! If you guessed that our Thieving Lady came back, here’s another cookie!

Not even four freaking hours later, she sauntered in with the ticket to cash it out! That’s right! She took the ticket out but left without cashing out the money right away! So now she had a paid out ticket, with staff still on duty who remember the fiasco that came from this.

In short, the cage girl realized that the ticket had already been paid out and realized who [Thieving Lady] was. The Tribal Police were promptly called.

This woman’s picture is now up in every casino owned by the nation, and she is no longer a “valued guest.” Simple terms? She’s banned from our casinos for life!

I’m for hire via a temp agency for day jobs which are mostly cleaning jobs. I’m sent to a holiday park one town over for the day, along with several others, and I am told I will be given a ride by someone from the temp agency, since it’s a bit too long of a road for me to bike there.

The workers gather at the agency office to be picked up and my ride turns out to be one of the workers. The woman herself is… a character, to say the least. The few teeth she still has in her mouth are disgustingly yellow, her hair is a mess, and the thick and greasy layers of makeup that she smeared on her face still can’t conceal all the bruises she has underneath. She leads me to her tiny old car, which is so filled with trash that I literally have no place to sit. She shoves some off the passenger seat, leaving my feet in a pool of plastic bottles, used tissues, cigarette butts, and I don’t wanna know what else. 

We get on the road. It’s scorching hot outside, about thirty degrees Celsius, and she leaves all the windows closed while she’s smoking cigarettes behind the wheel and swaying like a drunk.

She manages to drive right past the holiday park that is situated on the outskirts and drives all the way into town about fifteen minutes away.

Her reasoning? “They said it was at [Town] so that’s where I’m going!”

We pass a local theme park that has advertisements up for a Halloween event and she happily states that she should apply as a scare actor. “I look a fright anyway by myself!” No s***!

We end up arriving at the holiday park half an hour late. We don’t know where we are supposed to report in, so she calls the agency to ask. Halfway through the phone call, she hands her phone over to me and lights another cigarette. I’m trying to keep the makeup-smeared phone as far away from my face as possible. The conversation I try to make with the temp agency is constantly interrupted by loud and gross coughs from the woman and her yanking her phone back to her so she can listen in, continuously coughing loudly near my face.

Finally, we get sent to our duties to clean the bungalows. I end up with another lady who explains what needs to be done with the greatest haste and impatience.

She leaves me alone to clean the bungalow. At this point, it should be noted I have slight autism and anxiety issues. I’m left behind with little to no instructions, and the hellish ride to get here has made my emotions pile up and the result is a giant panic attack.

I go back to the front office to call in sick and fetch a bus back home.

Just another day in the life of working temp jobs, leaving me to wonder how on earth people can be so gross.

I was visiting my brother for our weekly get-together, and I called a new restaurant to place a to-go order as I do every week so we have something to munch on as we visit. The message on the restaurant’s machine asked that calls only relate to existing orders and that they wanted orders to be made online.

I hung up, pulled the website up on my phone, and went through the order process, but when I got to the payment option, I stopped. I had the intention of paying with debit upon pickup and, even though it seemed as if that were an option, the information they demanded about me was far too much.

I tried to place the order without filling in all the boxes but couldn’t get to the next step without telling them everything about me.

Frustrated, I called the restaurant back and asked to place the order over the phone. The woman who picked up the phone was a bit miffed, but I was clear that I wasn’t about to give all my information for some pizza.

Looking back, I guess I could have lied on the form, but it was just such a ridiculous ask that I wasn’t going to play along.

I work in EMS. I got off work after 2:00 am due to a late call, and I am headed back in to work for my 10:00 am shift after less than five hours of sleep.

I stop at the nearby superstore to get a few odds and ends and a farewell card for a coworker whose last day is coming up soon. While checking out at the self-checkout, I request $20 cash-back to use to purchase lunch later. 

Two and a half hours later, I am thinking of getting lunch and I reach for my wallet to make sure I have the $20 to use to pay… but it isn’t there. I left it in the self-checkout register. I realize my mistake, tell my coworkers, who good-naturedly laugh at me as I call myself an idiot, and promptly drive down the road to the store hoping there is any chance of getting my cash back. 

When I arrive at the store, receipt in hand, and tell the girl at the self-checkout my story, she apologizes and says she wasn’t there earlier but will ask someone who was. Her coworker immediately walks over to the main self-checkout register and reaches under it to pull out my exact $20 bill, with a duplicate receipt to prove it is mine. Once he sees that my receipt matches, he gives me the $20!

Then, I am on my way, feeling like the luckiest person in the world because no one else swiped my cash and the earlier self-checkout worker caught my blunder and saved it. 

I cannot thank these employees enough; they really restored my faith in humanity. I’ve already submitted an absolutely glowing review on their company survey site, but I felt they needed a little more recognition here.

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for February 2021!

Read the next Feel Good roundup for February 2021 story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for February 2021!

I’ve been the official photographer of a local racetrack for several years. Usually, a pilot can buy all the photos of his track day for thirty euros or a single picture for ten euros. This particular client has been very annoying, asking for his photos many times during the day, complaining about the quality, and being very rude to my coworkers.

After a long time in my shop, he selects five pictures out of eighty. We say that he could save twenty euros by buying the full service, but he refuses. He ends up buying five single pictures for fifty euros.

When he exits my office with the receipt, he realizes that he has done a very stupid thing. He asks me if he can talk with my boss about that.

My boss just says, “You’ve just done it, and I’m sorry. We can’t do anything.”

Karma feels good.