I’d been having a bad day, and I had ridden with my daughter to the store. I’d finished my shopping and was sitting on a bench by the registers waiting for her to check out, and while I was waiting, I was coloring a picture of a dragon on a color-by-number app on my phone. I glanced up as a young boy, I’d guess to be four or five, approached me. I have a large facial birthmark and it’s not unusual for youngsters to ask about it, so that’s what I was expecting.

Boy: “Whatcha doing?”

Me: *Turning my phone so he can see* “Coloring. Do you want to see?”

Boy: “Oh, a dragon! But it’s not real, you know.”

Me: “I know, it’s a drawing of what someone thought one would look like if it was.”

Boy: “But it’s wrong; dragons aren’t blue!”

Me: “Oh, they aren’t? I didn’t know that! What color are dragons?”

Boy: “Red and green, and they have fire coming out of their mouths.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the correction!”

Boy: “You know, I have one of those.” *Points to my face* “It’s right here!”

He lifted his shirt to show me a red mark on his belly.

Boy: “My mama says it’s a birthmark. I really like yours; it’s pretty!”

The woman he was with — I assume his mother — who was checking out at the closest register to where I was sitting, came to collect him and apologized for him bothering me. I assured her that he was not bothering me — in fact, he was quite delightful — and thanked her for sharing him with me for a moment.

It still wasn’t my best day, but I was still smiling a few minutes later when my daughter came to collect me.

My wife and I have some experience with trying to sell stuff we don’t need anymore at an online marketplace. The reason we do this is that we don’t like wasting something that could be useful to someone else, but also that, occasionally, it is easier to have big stuff like furniture or an old mini-oven picked up by someone rather than having to get rid of it by yourself.

We’re trying to sell off our laminate floor because it is partially damaged. Our first post asks for some money for it but it gets no response. My wife changes it to “free.” Now, responses come flooding in.

Keep in mind that the ad says that you have to pick up the floor yourself and that we like to discuss who will remove the flooring and who will get rid of the damaged bits as this job would incur a payment.

Customer #1: “I’d like to pick it up.”

Wife: “Great. Now the question: who is going to get rid of the damaged parts? If you do, the floor is yours for free.”

Customer #1: “You. Your ad says I don’t need to do that.”

Wife: “The ad says we want to discuss this, yes, and that’s what we are doing now. You don’t need to take the damaged bits, but in that case, we would like a little payment in return. since getting rid of it will cost us a bit because we don’t own a car.”

Customer #1: “Sorry, I don’t own a car, either.”

Wife: “Well, you said you were going to pick the floor up. This implies you have some kind of transport, right? So, here’s the deal: you make it a bit easier for us and we make it free for you.”

His tone changes.

Customer #1: “Never mind, ‘cause apparently, you can’t read! Just changing it all by the minute! I said I don’t have a car and I don’t want the damaged parts! And now I don’t want any of it!”

Wife: “Okay, bye.”

It was quite clear he thought “discussing” meant he was going to tell us what he wanted and that we just had to obey his wishes.

And then, there was this person who didn’t read the ad:

Customer #2: “I’d like part of the floor, but only if it could be sent over to my place in [Town on the other side of the country].”

One night, I had a very nice family come to the register: a mother, a daughter, a maybe five-year-old, and a toddler the mother was holding. I told them to give me a second because I had to show my boss something down the aisle (in view of the register).

I came back and cashed them out, and I noticed that the package of birthday balloons they had placed at the end of my belt was missing, and in its place was an empty package for skull caps.

My manager went and watched the cameras. He came back laughing. Apparently, in the thirty seconds I was gone, the mother ditched the empty package that she had hiding under the toddler and shoved the balloons in her purse. They paid for everything else and were really nice, which is why he was laughing. The total of what they stole versus what they paid? They stole $4.75, but they paid for $50 worth of stuff.

Never assume a wholesome family is just a nice, innocent customer.

I work for a big box retailer. I am on the electronics counter.

Customer: “This ad says buy-one-get-one-free on memory cards. Here’s my receipt from [Competitor] for the one I bought; let me have the free one.”

Me: “I mean… obviously, you need to have purchased the one from us—”

Customer: “SHOW ME IN THE AD WHERE IT SAYS THAT!”

Me: “It won’t say it because it is safe to assume a person would underst—”

Customer: “SHOW ME IN THE AD!”

Related:
Reasons Why Small Print Is A Million Pages Long

When I was a middle schooler, I attended a Christian school. I loved books and didn’t have good social skills — thank you, undiagnosed autism — so I spent a lot of time in the school library, which had a few odd inclusions.

One of these inclusions was an adult novelization of the Biblical book of Daniel, which had been out of print for years. Age-inappropriate or not, I enjoyed it enough to ask for my own copy for Christmas several years later after being unable to find it anywhere else. My mother found a last-of-stock copy listed on Amazon, ordered it, and checked it off her to-do list.

When I unwrapped the book on Christmas morning, it was slightly damaged, but I didn’t think much of it. However, when I opened it, a piece of folded paper fell out of the front inside cover. I opened it up to find a handwritten letter from the seller, addressed to my mother.

I’ll summarize the contents of the letter. The copy my mother had ordered didn’t exist. It’d been sold some time ago, but Amazon hadn’t updated the listing. Instead of sending a message informing my mother of the error, the seller started scouring every bookstore and yard sale she could find looking for a copy. It had already been out of print for more than a decade, so this was no easy task. She was eventually able to find one, albeit one with a slightly damaged jacket — which she was apologetic about — and that was the one she sent to my mother to give to me.

I still have that book, and I still keep that letter folded just as it was inside the front cover. Sometimes I use it as a bookmark. And every once in a while, I’ll read it again when I need reassurance that there are still good people in this world who would rather search book bins and garage sale tables than let a stranger down.

This story is part of our Highest-Voted-Inspirational-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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