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A Little Kindness In Hard Times Goes A Long Way

, , , , , , , | Working | May 22, 2022



My husband and I had just dropped our rabbit off at the vet’s; she was not doing well and the outlook was not hopeful. We needed some groceries, so we were in the discount supermarket next door when we got a phone call to tell us that our rabbit had had a seizure and ask if we wanted them to attempt resuscitation.

As we were next door, we said we’d be right over, but we had a basket of shopping. My husband refuses to be one of those people who just leave stuff in the wrong place, so he handed it to a cashier.

Husband: “I’m sorry. Our pet is dying, so we need to go, but we’ll be back for our shopping.”

Our rabbit sadly passed away, and after saying our goodbyes, we went back to the supermarket to get our shopping. As soon as the cashier saw us — I was still sobbing — she left her till and the large queue. She’d put our basket in the chiller out the back to stop anything going bad. She gave me a hug and got a colleague to open a till so we could just get our things and go.

The supermarket in question has a reputation for curt service and scanning items too quickly, but that cashier made a terrible night slightly more bearable. It really stood out as an example of people caring, which doesn’t happen too often these days.

What Should We Do With The Hefty Bag, Then?

, , , , | Working | May 12, 2022

I hate being solicited for insurance. Even my car and home insurance company seems to be required to ask me if I want life insurance. I have devised a method to get them to put a note into my file so they will know not to ask me again.

Insurance Agent: “While you’re on the line, I see you don’t have any life insurance with us. You know, life insurance [blah, blah, blah]…”

Me: “I have no need for life insurance. You can see in my file that I have no dependents.”

Insurance Agent: “But do you have enough money set aside for your funeral expenses?”

Is this really an issue people are concerned about?

Me: “Don’t need it. A Hefty bag is only a dollar.”

That usually shuts them up, at least for a while.

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Distribution

, , , , | Working | May 12, 2022

When I turned eighteen, I got a job at a distribution center of a big German shipping company, working a few hours after school. I was assigned to various stations, depending on where they needed help at the moment.

One day, I was assigned to a station I’d never been before. After a while, I noticed a wooden pallet with about a hundred of the same packages. For the most part, we handled only single packages, so this seemed odd to me at first.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], that pallet looks special. I haven’t seen something like that around before. What is this?”

Coworker: “Oh, those are just urns from the crematory. We ship those every couple of weeks.”

Me: “We ship urns with the ashes of dead people? Why?”

Coworker: “You see, in Germany, you’re not allowed to collect the ashes from the crematory yourself. Only the boss of a funeral home is allowed to do that. The other legal way to transport filled urns is shipping them with our company, because we used to be owned by the government.”

I was a little weirded out and decided I don’t want to be cremated in Germany, but I managed to handle those pallets without incident.

Fast forward a few years. As I’m shopping at a local supermarket, a woman approaches me.

Woman: “Sorry to bother you, but is your name [My Name], by a chance?

Me: “Yes, it is. Why?”

I do not recognise her, but I’m bad at remembering people.

She yells across the aisle:

Woman: “Hey, [Friend’s Brother], it is him. now you can say hello!” *To me* “He didn’t dare to ask you himself.” 

I recognise the man she yelled to as the little brother of a friend I’ve failed to stay in touch with over the years.

Me: “Oh, hi, [Friend’s Brother], good to see you. How are you? How is your sister?”

Blah, blah, blah. We catch up for a while. 

After a couple of minutes:

Me: “And what do you do now?”

Friend’s Brother: “Well, you met my girlfriend. I’m just finishing school, and I work a few hours at the distribution center on the side.”

Me: “Hey, I had that job. It was fun, most of the time. Do you still get those wooden pallets full of urns?”

Friend’s Brother: “Oh, yes, we do.”

Me: “Man, can you imagine how bad it would be to knock one of those over and break the urns? We used to joke about it all the time.”

He gets quiet and looks down.

Friend’s Brother: “Well… you see… I actually did that. I crashed it and it turned over. A lot of the urns broke. There was ash everywhere.”

Me: “Oh, no. Oh, s***. What did you do then?”

Friend’s Brother: “Well, we brushed the ash up and put it in a bucket. Then, we sent everything to the station for damaged packages. I never found out what they did with it.”

Clients Don’t Know The Meaning Of “Personal Time”

, , , | Right | May 8, 2022

I told my client I would be at my stepmother’s funeral for the day and would be completely unreachable by any form of communication until the next day. After the funeral, I found all of these messages from the client on my phone.

Client: *Via email* “I really need your help! I can’t open the file you sent me.”

Client: *Via text* “Did you get my email? I need you to resend me that file NOW!”

Client: *Via voicemail* “You are being completely unprofessional and ridiculous! I can’t believe you are ignoring my frantic pleas for help! You can bet your sorry a** that I’ll remember how unhelpful and unprofessional you are being.”

Client: *Via text* “[NOT MY NAME]! CALL ME NOW!”

This Transaction Died

, , , , | Right | April 26, 2022

The retail location where I work does a Mother’s Day gift basket giveaway every year. All you have to do to enter is fill out a small slip of paper with your name and phone number on it. We are told to offer this to all customers and show off the products that are part of the gift basket.

I am restocking shelving attached to the side of the register while my coworker rings up an older man. He has said nothing the entire transaction, despite my coworker’s efforts.

Coworker: “Would you like to enter our raffle for our Mother’s Day gift basket?”

Customer: “My mother is dead.”

Coworker: “Oh… I’m sorry. Well, you could always enter for your wife—”

Customer: “My wife is dead.”

Coworker: *Very flustered but still trying* “Oh… I’m so sorry… You could always gift it to a sibling or a daughter or—”

Customer: “No. Everyone’s dead. They’re all dead.”

He dropped exact change on the counter, grabbed his things, and walked out.