I work in a drugstore that also has photo printing services. During the peak holiday season, a lady and her husband come in to use the self-service photo kiosk and print off 173 photos. While they’re printing, the lady shops around and picks out a single Chapstick.

Once her photos are done printing, she brings the pictures plus her Chapstick up to the counter and hands me a coupon for $1 off healthcare items.

We’re really busy, and the way our system works, you have to scan a barcode for the photos and enter the quantity to make the system calculate the total. The max you can enter is ninety-nine. If it’s more than ninety-nine, you have to scan it a second time and do the math manually to calculate the difference. There’s a huge line, so I really don’t feel like taking the extra five seconds to figure it out. Usually, when I do this, I err on the side of caution and intentionally undercalculate by a couple of photos to avoid someone coming back and saying I overcharged them.

I scan it once for ninety-nine and then a second time for like forty. I admit, this is my mistake, but it is the holidays and I am feeling generous. Shouldn’t have done that.

I scan the Chapstick and the coupon. The coupon rejects because Chapstick doesn’t qualify as a “healthcare item” I explain that we can’t use that coupon, and her husband immediately says, very aggressively:

Husband: “I AM A LAWYER! IF YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE COUPONS LIKE THIS, THEY NEED TO SPECIFY WHAT QUALIFIES AND WHAT DOESN’T!”

And so on and so forth.

Me: “Okay, no problem. We’ll override that for you.”

I void the transaction and re-ring it. But this time, I take my time to make sure I ring them for exactly the number of photos they got. I override the coupon and I tell them the total, which is now four or five dollars MORE than their previous one. I explain what I did on the previous transaction and that I did that because I was in a hurry, but for the sake of accuracy, I’ve done everything correctly this time.

They huff a little bit and leave, and I go on about my day.

About an hour later, the wife comes back and says her total doesn’t seem right. I offer to take a look at the receipt and we go over it together.

Me: “Okay, you got 173 photos. They’re 39 cents each.”

I punch it into the calculator,

Me: “That equals [amount]. Plus your Chapstick which was $3.29, minus your one-dollar coupon. That makes your total [total].”

Lady: “HA! But you charged me more than that! See?”

She points at her total.

Me: “Yes, ma’am, that’s tax, which is calculated at 7%.”

I enter that into the calculator, and we get the exact amount on her receipt. She’s looking really confused. She frowns.

Lady: “Hmmm… that still doesn’t seem right.”

Sorry. Can’t teach you math. But let me tell you, I will never cut corners to help someone out again.

The company I work for announced a while back that there won’t be a Christmas party this year, for obvious reasons. This is my first year with the company, but from what I’ve heard, the party is a pretty great time, so everyone was quite disappointed. At the event, each employee receives a gift card to a local mall or business. The amount varies, but it’s typically in the range of $50 — nothing to sneeze at, for sure.

It was announced that in lieu of a Christmas party, the company was going to provide a gift box for each of us containing a turkey, some vegetables, a pie, and some other items to round out a nice Christmas dinner. Most of us thought this was a nice gesture, seeing as it would have been pretty easy to simply cancel the party, cite the health crisis as the reason, and save a bunch of money.

One coworker was not happy with this. During our shift last Thursday, the manager phoned us up saying that our boxes were ready for pickup and that we could pack up early. [Coworker] blew up, ranting on and on about what an insult this gift was, how it was beneath him, and how he wanted a gift card or nothing. Keep in mind, he is a grown man, and people were around. It was a really embarrassing sight.

We tried to talk him down, but he continued to say how insulting and demeaning this was and how he didn’t need a turkey. Well, fair enough, you’re one guy and that’s a lot of food. Another coworker of ours, who is a really sweet young lady but unfortunately not very well off, asked if he could pick up his box and give it to her and her family. He refused, saying that he wouldn’t touch it out of principle. The food bank was also out of the question.

He even phoned the manager back to tell him what he had just told us. The manager was rightfully pissed and sent him home for the day, telling him that by refusing to pick it up today, he was forfeiting everything and that he couldn’t backtrack later on. He agreed and stormed off, so the rest of us went off to pick up our meals.

Out of the four of us on the crew that day, two of us had been forced to go to the food bank at least a couple of times in the past few years, so listening to this guy go on about how a free meal wasn’t good enough for him had us rather angry, especially considering the state of the world right now.

We showed up at the shop and the gift box blew our expectations out of the water. A twenty-two-pound turkey, bags of vegetables, an apple pie, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce, all locally grown and handmade, complete with a baking tray, meat thermometer, and instructions on how to prep and cook everything. And for a little icing on the cake, tucked into the corner of each box was the $50 gift card that our coworker had been ranting on and on about. His gift box, complete with the gift card, ended up going to the food bank after all.

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I work as a customer service representative at a department store. I greet a customer and start the return process. I scan the receipt and the item.

Me: “You’ll be getting $10.60 back.”

Customer: *Taken aback* “That is not how much I paid for these jeans! I know that I paid full price; just look at my receipt.”

I look at the receipt and there is exactly one item on it, so there is no mistake. She paid $10.60 before taxes for the pants. It says, “Clearance,” in bold with the clearance price printed next to it. There is a clearance sticker on the pants. My total matches the receipt total. I show her, and she can’t find where it says, “Clearance,” even with me pointing. I pull out my highlighter and highlight all the relevant information.

The customer looks at the receipt, now with the clearance price and total highlighted in bright yellow.

Customer: “I know I paid full price!”

Because, apparently, the word clearance doesn’t mean anything.

Me: “Well, this is the receipt, and these are, indeed, the pants you purchased.”

After I spent fifteen minutes explaining receipts, clearance prices, and how totals work, she agreed to take her refund back for the amount that her receipt said… which is what I offered her to begin with.

About a week or two ago, my girlfriend got a $200 tip at her restaurant from an older couple. She said they were very nice and low maintenance and left before she could see their tip.

Today, I get sat an older couple. The entire time, they are incredibly polite and low maintenance. They are very kind and thankful, in and out quickly, etc. When I go to bus their table, I notice a note.

Note: “Excellent food! Outstanding service! Thank you.”

That was clearly nice and made me happy, but then I looked down. I honestly didn’t believe it at first and it took me a minute to process, but they tipped me $200 on a $50 bill.

Afterward, I called my girlfriend, and we believe, based on the descriptions we had, that they were the same couple.

I wish I had gotten to thank them in person. The money came at a time when it was really needed!

I work at a gas station for a grocery store. I love my job, but sometimes… the people.

I watch as a lady stops short on the drive up to an out-of-order pump and steps out to move the cone over to the side — a real feat, as it’s heavily weighted against the wind. She gets back in her car so she can drive up properly, then gets back out, takes the red out-of-order bag off the pump handle, and proceeds to throw it into the trash.

She goes about trying to use the pump, but after a minute, she yells that the screen isn’t working!

Gasp! Shock! And HORROR! The out-of-order pump is… OUT OF ORDER!? How dare it be?!

I ignore her yelling as I would any other crazy person doing such crazy things. She walks over to my window.

Customer: “Sir, the pump isn’t working. The screen’s not on.”

I play innocent like I didn’t just watch her do what she did.

Me: “Really? Which pump?”

Customer: “Pump number eight, I believe it is.”

Me: “Oh! I’m sorry, ma’am, but pump eight is shut down at the moment. It needs repairs.”

Customer: “It needs repairs? I didn’t know.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. You didn’t run over the cone there, did you?”

Customer: “No. I don’t think so.”

Me: “Good. It could really damage your vehicle if you were to run it over. But it’s there to let you know that the pump is out of order.”

Customer: “Is that what it means? Well, I guess I’ll go to another one.”

Me: “That would be best.”

She leaves. I want to cry.