Years ago, I worked at a discount shoe store with a small woman in her fifties who was, frankly, miserable to work with. The entire front of our store was floor-to-ceiling windows. This coworker had a habit of trying to count the money on the counter in front of those windows before we were closed. We all told her to stop, and we told management multiple times, but nothing was ever done.

One night, closing is upon us. The protocol is that we are to vacuum the floor if we haven’t had a customer for a half an hour. Said coworker refuses to do any physical work, so I go get the vacuum, sweep the floor, prop the door open, and take the vacuum into the back. As I’m finishing cleaning up some odds and ends in the back, I hear the buzzer go off indicating we have a last-minute customer. Knowing this coworker will refuse to wait on them and try to chase them off because we are minutes from closing, I head out.

I get halfway down the aisle, only to see a masked man pointing a gun over the counter. My brain works quickly. I realize the buzzer went off after I stopped vacuuming and the door to the back room had been propped open, so he likely has no idea my coworker isn’t alone. I quietly retreat into the back so as to not spook him and potentially force him to use the gun. Before I can pick up the phone to call the police, the door buzzer goes off again.

Slowly, I creep out and find him gone, but both drawers from the registers are on the counter along with a deposit slip and the safe is open. I lock the door and call the police, who are there in minutes. My coworker admits that she decided to count the money in front of the large windows while we were open because she wanted to go home early.

She is subsequently taken in for questioning. The police cannot believe she was stupid enough to do this and they think she is involved. She is eventually cleared of all charges when the police determine we were robbed by an opportunist who saw her counting the money and took his chance.

Our manager doesn’t fire her. I give my notice. I refuse to continue to work with a coworker that could have gotten us both killed because she thought it bright to count money in front of windows of an open store.

I work in a legal aid clinic and we hired a new attorney during the health crisis. We get along great, but almost all of our interaction is over video conferencing, which isn’t the best way to get to know someone. The part of my personality that doesn’t always come through over video conferencing is my tendency to quote from TV and movies in regular conversation. I don’t expect people to always catch the quote and usually do it for my own amusement. It’s something I mostly do when I’m comfortable and have a good relationship with those around me.

Once we’re all vaccinated, we return to in-person work. The new attorney has just been made the director of our clinic and mentions during our team meeting they’d like to set up a regular meeting with me for the purposes of case review and supervision. 

Director: “I’d like to set up an initial meeting so we can get to know each other a little better and find out what kind of supervision style and schedule will work best for the two of us.”

Me: “It was my understanding that I was not going to be managed.”

The director startles a little bit and throws a look at the other attorney in the room.

Staff Attorney: “It’s a quote from something. Whenever she says something confusing or out of character, there’s a good chance it’s a quote from something.”

Me: *Resignedly* “It’s from The Office.”

Director: “Ah! Got it! Well, that makes me David Wallace… What gave you that idea?”

Me: “We’re gonna get along so well.”

I work for a twenty-four-seven gas station that has locations in six states on the east coast and is very popular in my home state. It’s late summer, and there are a few locations nearby that are perfect wedding spots, as well as a hospital that gives us a HUGE amount of business.

It’s about 12:30 or 1:00 am, and we’re in a rush due to a wedding party coming in, as well as hospital workers going home. Lines are at least seven deep, and my coworker on the other register is a bit slower than me. We also have three in the kitchen making food as fast as possible, but we’re SO packed it’s not fast enough. Most people know each other, but there are still a few strangers amongst the crowd.

I have a tipsy gentleman with his partner, and he turns to the next guy.

Tipsy Gentleman: “Put your s*** up; I’m buying.”

Despite the guy trying to say no, the tipsy gentleman is insistent, so the guy complies.

Tipsy Gentleman: “All I want is that one day you pay it forward.”

As a result, this guy paid for the next woman’s things. The line was a good mix of drunk wedding attendees and sober hospital workers, and at this point, they were all cracking jokes with each other, making new friends that some would totally not remember the next morning, and having a good time.

The woman, not having to pay for her things, in turn, paid for the next person’s. All in all, twelve people had their things bought by the person in front of them, so they bought the next person’s. I just kept laughing because, like I said, everyone was cracking jokes, even to the chick behind the counter, and because I was legitimately happy.

My store is in a town where people can be a pain in the rear, and they’re majorly wannabe r**-necks, but whenever I get to see displays of kindness like this, it makes me really proud of the town, and that despite being in a state where they could be destructive, all these people want to do is keep up the happy atmosphere.

I worked in an IMAX theater many moons ago. We were part of a science center, so we only had one screen to show movies. Besides the educational films we showed during the day, we had blockbuster films we showed in the evenings. The current film had an actor who had recently overdosed and died, so tons of people wanted to see his last movie. One night while the movie was playing, a man approached our concessions and ticket stand.

Customer: “Hey, that poster there.”

He points to a ten-foot vinyl poster of the deceased actor.

Customer: “How much is it?“

Me: “Um… it’s not for sale. Sorry.“

Customer: *Obviously not listening* “No, but how much?“

Me: “I, uh, I’m sorry, sir. It’s not for sale.“

Customer: “Okay, but how much would you sell it for? I’m a huge fan.”

He opens his phone and plays a sound clip saying, “Why so serious?”

Me: “It’s not mine to sell. I can’t say. I can take your contact info and—“

Customer: “No, I want to buy it now.“

Me: “Sir, the poster is not for sale. There is no price. You cannot take it.“

Customer: “Okay, cool, I hear you. But give me a number.“

Me: *Fed up* “Ten million dollars.“

Customer: “What?! F*** that!”

The man left and I, thankfully, never heard another word about it.

I have been dating my girlfriend for about two years. One day, we drop her six-year-old daughter off at a local school summer camp.

When it’s time to pick her up, I arrive early to see what she’s doing at the camp. I walk along the sidewalk looking over at her playing, texting her mother on the phone about the playground and how she is having fun.

Twenty minutes later, I pick her up and walk her to the car.

Me: “So, how was your day?

Child: “Okay. Some kids thought you were taking pictures or video of us.”

Me: “What?!”

I’m shocked by this claim.

Child: “Yeah, I told them I didn’t think so, but that maybe it was my stepfather. I thought you were busy so I didn’t wanna bother you.”

She’s never referred to me as her stepfather to other people before; I’ve always been the roommate or her mom’s friend. Overwhelming joy hits me hard.

Me: “Ah, I was just texting your mom to tell her about this camp.”

We soon changed the subject and headed home. I’ve never been so happy to be accused of recording children at a public school’s park in my life. She actually told the other kids I was her stepfather. I must be doing something right after all.