Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 5

, , , , , | Right | August 9, 2018

(I work in a retail store that offers customers a store credit card. One detail that a lot of people like about the card is that they can bring their bill in and pay it in the store. We’re close to Canada, but still a solid couple of hours away.)

Woman: “I want to pay my bill.”

(Everything proceeds normally until she pulls out her cash. She has American bills, but she has several Canadian coins. It’s quite common to get Canadian coins here, but the managers have asked us to stop accepting them because, you know, it’s foreign currency.)

Me: “Ma’am, do you happen to have American coins?”

Woman: “No.”

Me: “These are Canadian coins. We’re trying to not—”

Woman: “I got them from the shops around here. What’s the problem?”

Me: “This isn’t Canada.”

Woman: “But I got them from the stores here. What does it matter?”

Me: “This isn’t American currency.”

(This woman looked like she was about to have a hissy fit, so I decided to let it slide, seeing how the coins aren’t counted in the register and it wasn’t that large an amount. It just baffled me that this woman didn’t think that there was a difference between American and Canadian coins. You wouldn’t pay with Canadian bills, so why would you pay with their coins?)

Related:
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 4
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 3
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 2

A Neurologically Atypical Display Of Understanding

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 22, 2017

My boys are three and eight and both have autism. My eight-year-old has ADHD and my three-year-old has ADD and severe speech delays.

After checking out at the meat counter of a small meat shop near our house I try to move to the main check out section. My eight-year-old is trying to run around the shop with our groceries and is struggling to stay next to me. My three-year-old launches himself out of the stroller and tries to race around the shop while screaming. I manage to get them both under control for a few minutes but our stroller gets stuck and the groceries spill all over.

A kind worker comes around from the meat counter and starts to chat with the boys while helping me pick up everything. Once the stroller is unstuck he asks if we want help to our car or the door. He manages to help keep my boys occupied and doesn’t bat an eye when they are acting out from what is deemed normal. He made us feel normal and welcomed. We always go there once a week for our meat and many small things we need because we are welcomed, and it’s a shop that my boys are careful in without me needing to hold them tightly against me.

It’s a wonderful feeling when people treat non-neurotypical kids the way they would treat neurotypical kids.