When I was in high school I was on the board of the KEY Club — a high-school branch of the Kiwanis organization. I was in my Spanish class and had finished my work early, so I decided to get a little paperwork done for my board meeting later after school. My Spanish teacher asked if I could stay after class for a minute, which got me nervous that I was in trouble for something. It turns out she saw my paperwork and realized I was in the KEY Club. She told me that her son, Abraham, was autistic. He could speak, just not well, and things were a little slower for him, but he was improving immensely and his therapist had suggested that it would be beneficial for him to join a service club to help with his socialization. She asked if it would be possible for me to speak with the rest of the board about letting Abraham join.

I immediately said I would, and the rest of the board thought it was a great idea for him to join. We discussed waiving the admittance rules for him — he would have to memorize and recite the KEY Club pledge — but he wound up passing that easily. I’ll admit, I was nervous over how the other members would act around him but I shouldn’t have been.

The other members all were enthusiastic about Abraham; at any activity we did during meetings they all encouraged him, sat with him, and chatted with him, making sure he was having the best time. No one treated him differently or made fun of him. It was really beautiful to see.

But one thing that surprised all of us were his service hours. Members were required to finish 25 hours of service per semester, and we discussed waiving that requirement for Abraham. But not only did he far exceed his 25-hour requirement, he was actually the first member to finish it. We actually started to use him as an example when other members complained about not being able to complete the require hours; if Abraham could finish his hours first then really there was absolutely no excuse.

For a full year, I got to watch this wonderful boy thrive. He loved going to the meetings and hanging out with the club. And at the end of the year we had a ceremony to commemorate the accomplishments the club had done, and one of the awards given was Member of the Year. At the board meeting where we discussed who should be given what award, the president of the club immediately suggested Abraham as the recipient for Member of the Year. The vote on that was unanimous.

I was never prouder when I stood up to give the award, speaking about this member always being the most enthusiastic at meetings, always bringing a smile, always laughing first at every joke, jumping into any activity with real joy, and of course being the very first to complete his hours. I’ll never forget when Abraham’s mother burst into tears when I announced his name; she was over the moon with pride at her son for earning that award. There was never any doubt among anyone in the club he had earned it.

A few years later, I emailed my old Spanish teacher and asked how Abraham was doing. She said he had graduated and was taking courses at a college, and he still talks about KEY club being the happiest time of his life. He still has his award on display at his home.

(I work at an ice cream shop in a tourist town that’s busy even during the colder months. As such, we get a lot of people in, some not so bright. We have an extensive menu, and a lot of options, so as far as sundaes go there is a minimum of about 180 possible combinations, not including if a customer asks for multiple toppings. One day, I am training a new coworker, and I come across this one customer…)

Customer: “Can I get a sundae?”

Me: “Okay, would you like that small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “Um, small, I guess.”

Me: “And what toppings would you like on that, or did you just want a plain cup of vanilla ice cream?”

Customer: “I said a sundae.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I need to know what toppings you would like. We have a list of flavors on the menu right next to you.”

Customer: “You know, with the hot fudge and peanuts and whipped cream… You know what? Never mind! I’ll just get a medium cone of vanilla!”

(The customer stormed off and let his friend finish the rest of the order and pay. I’m still not sure how I was supposed to know all of that from just the word “sundae,” but I’m sure with enough experience I’ll learn how to read minds!)

(I’ve been in my field for over ten years, so I have a wide skill set and knowledge base. Every few months, a staffing/contract agency tries to recruit me. Usually, a polite “no, thanks” turns them away, but once a while, I get this guy:)

Agent: “Hello! I have this great opportunity that you’d be perfect for. When would you like to schedule an interview?”

(I read the job description. It’s pretty obvious he just did a keyword search and didn’t read my actual resume.)

Me: “Um, this job is located in Ohio.”

Agent: “Will that be a problem?”

Me: “I live in North Carolina.”

Agent: “Oh, the company does require you to be on-site, so you’ll have to relocate.”

Me: “No, thanks. I have a permanent position I’m happy with.”

Agent: “But this is a fantastic opportunity! Will relocating really be that difficult?”

Me: “Only if I’m seven months pregnant.”

Agent: “Have a nice day.”

(I work the back drive-thru a lot, so any trainees looking to learn it have to come to me. Today, I’m training a nice girl on a busy day when she points out that one of my coworkers is getting screamed at by a customer for multitasking.)

Customer: “I’M THE D*** MOST IMPORTANT THING RIGHT NOW. I BETTER SEE YOU AT THE F****** WINDOW!”

(He drives up and I get angry. I turn to the trainee and tell her to watch. As soon as he pulls up, I start cashing him out but pretend to draw a mental blank.)

Me: “God, sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to space out. I just had some lady scream and cuss at me because she drove twenty minutes down the road and chilled before eating her fries. She blamed us for them getting cold! I’m glad I have this sweet girl here with me because I wanted to cry.”

(The man is silent and has a look of shock on his face. The trainee leaves as not to laugh.)

Me: “It hurts when people scream at us for things we can’t control… Such as them ordering wrong or us being a little slow from multitasking. Some of us can’t handle the abuse. Minimum wage isn’t worth bad mental health.”

(I give him his change and smile while he looks down in shame.)

Me: “You have an absolutely perfect day! And sorry for that wait!”

This story is part of our Mental Health Awareness roundup!

Read the next Mental Health Awareness roundup story!

Read the Mental Health Awareness roundup!

(I work at a dry cleaning store. We have a middle-aged lady come in and drop off her clothes. I’m detailing what her clothes are in the computer when she tells me:)

Customer: “Now, honey, please make sure that these are dry cleaned.”

Me: *thinking she’s joking* “Of course, ma’am; we are dry cleaners!”

Customer: “Right, and I want these dry cleaned. No water.”

Me: “Right, ma’am, we can only clean them without water. It’s a dry cleaner.”

Customer: “Yes. Make sure you write a note on there, because if you do them in water, the colors will bleed.”

Me: “Right, ma’am, but… it’s a dry cleaner; we don’t use water washers here.”

Customer: *nodding* “Good. Make sure to write it on each article tag.”

Me: *accepting her ignorance* “All right, ma’am. Have a nice day!”

(Even though I handed her the receipt, the lady continued to stand there. She waited, wanting to watch me undergo the entire detail process before she left, meaning I had to write, “Dry Clean Only,” on the back of our “Special” tags that get pinned to special orders. This meant rewriting the same useless message for all of her pieces, which totaled more than thirty articles. Only after she saw each one detailed did she leave.)