The job that I work for is more mobile than anything, but sometimes we get to stop and rest at the store’s physical address, and customers like to meet us there. However, the address is a little obscure and some people have trouble finding it.

Caller: “What’s your address? I need to come pick up [small item].”

I give her the address and explain how to get there.

Me: “Do you know where [Street #1] is?”

Caller: “Yes, I do.”

Me: “Great! Our street is right off of it, between the 700s and 800s.”

Caller: “Okay, I’ll see you soon!”

I think that’s the end of it until she calls back.

Caller: “I’m on [Street #1] but I can’t find where to turn!”

Me: “It’s between the 700s and 800s.”

Caller: “Well, I’m at the 300s and I don’t see it anywhere!”

I tried to tell her to, you know, drive a little further, but she didn’t listen, turned down a random road onto yet another random road (how hard is it to just go straight?), called back in a panic, didn’t listen to instructions AGAIN, and never showed up.

Some people just can’t be helped.

I was working in a convenience store. One night, it was busy, and my coworker and I were both running registers. I noticed a teenage-looking dude join my coworker’s line with a can of beer. She saw him, too, and gave me a knowing look.

When he got to the counter, she asked him for his ID. He handed her his driver’s license. She looked at it, put the beer under the counter, and, before I could stop her, dropped his driver’s license into the cash drop safe.

Coworker: “Your momma can pick that up in the morning!”

The cocky dude laughed and went outside. A minute later he came back in, followed by two cops. It had been a sting operation.

Cop: “You need to return that ID right now.”

Coworker: “It’s in the time-delay safe. Only the store manager can open it.”

The cop threatened to arrest both of us for theft and interfering with a police operation. My coworker accused him of entrapment and called him a fascist pig, among other things.

Me: “[Coworker], take a break. Officer, I will call the store manager and get him to come in and open the safe and return the ID.”

It turns out that the store manager was about an hour away, so for an hour, we were hosts to two angry cops hanging around drinking free coffee and a cocky kid sitting on the floor playing with his phone. Finally, the store manager arrived. He set the ten-minute timer on the time-delay safe.

Again, the angry cop demanded the ID right away. The store manager explained that the safe had a ten-minute delay. Then, he went into the back room.

I found out later that he texted a pic of the kid to his fellow managers to warn them of the sting operation.

Finally, the store manager was able to open the safe and return the ID. The cops left, followed by the kid, who winked and clicked his tongue at us on his way out the door.

My psychology teacher junior year of high school had some… interesting thoughts he liked to share with the class, and we were supposed to treat them as gospel despite many of them not being the least bit true. This is one of the few times I was able to refute his “logic”.

Teacher: “You’ll notice that I’ve rearranged the classroom to have the desks in sets of four rather than seven. Please choose your seats.”

Cue the class shuffling around.

Teacher: *Smugly* “Just as I thought. See, people who are most likely to sit in the first seats are A students. Those of you who chose the seats in the back are D students at best. You might even fail. It never fails; those with the worst grades always sit in the back!”

Me: “Or we’re just tall and don’t want anyone to have to sit behind us and try to see over us?”

Teacher: “What?”

Me: “I’m over six feet tall. I’m one of the tallest kids in this room, if not this school. I’m taller than you. Of course, I picked a seat in the back.”

Fellow Tall Classmate: “Yeah, same. I’m just tall and don’t want anyone to try and see over me. We both sat in the back when the seats were arranged the other way because we’re tall, nothing else.”

Teacher: “Well… hm…”

Fellow Tall Classmate: *To me* “What’s your grade? I’ve got a high B right now.”

Teacher: *Quietly* “She has an A.”

Not only did I keep my A, but I had the highest grade out of that class and the second-highest out of all his classes, and I sat in the back all year. And my fellow tall classmate finished up the year with his B!

My father recently lost someone he cared about. He learns about their passing while we are out having lunch, and he is devastated. We try our best to get him to feel better and he seems happy with us trying to help, but it doesn’t work, and I honestly can’t blame him for that.

Something does make him feel better, though, along with the rest of us.

Employee: “Hey, guys, how are y’all doing today?”

Us: “Good, how about you?”

Employee: “Doing good. I just stopped by to let you know that the family over at the other table paid for your entire lunch, plus the tip.”

We are all pretty touched, and my father seems to be holding back tears.

Dad: “Thank you; thank you!”

We exchange some more pleasantries and leave the restaurant in higher spirits that day. I turn to address the kids we have with us.

Me: “Remember, guys: when you get older and you’re wondering if things will get any better, remember things like this.”

We have a table of men’s shirts in different colors at the front of the store.

Customer: “What color is this?“

Coworker: “Red.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”