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A Little Flu Jab Of Kindness

, , , , , , , | Right | May 15, 2020

I am seventeen, living away from home during high school. I contract the flu, so I go to the pharmacy and they prescribe me Tamiflu.

Because I am out of state, my insurance doesn’t cover it. The woman behind the counter says it will cost $100. I am already emotional because I am sick and away from home. I know my mom would pay for the medication, but it would be tight. I start crying by the counter.

The lady who filled my prescription hands me tissues and says she is sorry, but she can’t do anything about the cost. I fill the prescription and sit down in the waiting area.

A couple of minutes later, the woman comes over to me and says, “I went looking in our database, and I found a coupon for your medication. It will only cost you $40.”

I will never forget her kindness in my time of need.


This story was included in our May 2020 Inspirational Roundup.

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This Professor Gets A Zero On Being Reasonable

, , , | Learning | May 15, 2020

During my junior year of college, I have a class taught by a professor who is pretty much universally hated because of his petty, super-strict grading policy. If you don’t write EXACTLY what he expects you to write — literally down to the letter — your answer is wrong. For example, if he expects you to write, “Gettysburg, Pennsylvania,” and you write, “Gettysburg, PA,” he marks it as a wrong answer.

After our midterm exam, the professor hands out our graded exams and asks if anyone has any questions about their grade.

Student #1: “You marked me as zero percent, even though I know I got these answers right.”

Professor: “Well, I suspect you cheated somehow, and per my syllabus and the school’s policies, any cheating is an automatic zero.”

Student #1: “But I didn’t cheat! How can you even say that?”

Professor: “I’ve told all of you before that the highest grade any student has ever received on this midterm is eighty percent, and the average is usually only sixty-five or seventy percent. You got a ninety-eight. That’s too high, and the only way you could have gotten it is by cheating.”

We all defend [Student #1] because, despite what the professor said, most of us were able to score in the eighties. It wasn’t a particularly difficult test at all; he just made it impossible to do better because of his strict grading.

Professor: “Enough of this! [Student #1], I could be reporting you to the [department] dean on suspicion of cheating. I felt that a zero score would be sufficient punishment, but if it’s not, I will be reporting you. Moving on.”

After class, a few of us who had extra time, including [Student #1], went to the department dean’s office to ask him what we could do about the situation. The dean offered to grade [Student #1]’s exam himself and said that, based on his grading, the ninety-eight percent was entirely accurate. He agreed to speak to the professor about it.

While we don’t know what happened in their discussion, the professor’s grading became much more lenient for the rest of the semester, though many students suspected that the dean had actually taken over grading the exams instead of trusting the professor to do his own grading. 

At the end of the semester, it was announced that the professor would be taking an indefinite sabbatical. To my knowledge, he has not yet returned to the school, and it’s been five years since then.

I’m Still Jenny From The Checkout

, , , , | Right | May 15, 2020

I am ringing up a mother and son. The son is about four or five, and he just keeps staring at me with these huge eyes. As I finish ringing up their items, the little boy does that little-kid loud whisper.

Boy: “Mommy, she’s pretty like Jennifer Lopez!”

Me: “Oh, my gosh, he’s already doing the good lies! He’s going to be a heartbreaker!”

I was so flattered! He just made my day!


This story was included in our May 2020 Inspirational Roundup.

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She’s Not In Controller Here

, , , , | Right | May 15, 2020

A “Karen” type woman — middle-aged with a permanent scowl etched on her face — comes up to the counter in a huff with her ten-year-old-looking son. She plops down an Xbox One controller on the counter, in its box, and forks over the receipt.

Customer: “I want to return it because it doesn’t work. I want my money back.”

Me: “Do you have a rewards account?”

She gives me her information and I pull up her account. As I look over her receipt, I notice that it is a new controller, it was not purchased under her account, the warranty was declined, and it is past the thirty-day exchange policy. I explain this to her.

Me: “The best I can do is run the controller through our test system, trade it in as a defective, and put the money towards a different controller, as is our store policy on such matters.”

She won’t accept this, and now I’ve got about five people in line waiting on me. My manager is out sick, so I call another store to see what their take is, already knowing what policy is, and the manager of that store tell me exactly that. When I tell her what the other store manager told me, she starts fuming.

Customer: “Get your manager!”

Me: “I am the manager on duty.”

Customer: “Get your manager on the phone!”

Me: “She can’t answer because she is on medical leave and currently in surgery.”

Customer: “Get the assistant manager on the phone!”

I go to the back room to call her. She tells me what I am doing is right, but if the customer simply won’t accept it to just refund it back to her as a store credit, technically breaking policy. I go back and say exactly that, but she is still fuming.

Customer: “I wanted the refund in cash! I won’t leave the store until I get it!”

Even under all the stress, I held my resolve. I was kind and courteous, but also firm on what I could and could not do. And when she stood there, holding up the line like a petulant child, I had had enough. I gave her her receipt and her gift card and told her that was all I was authorized to do.

Then, I called to the next customer behind her that I could help them. She gave me the death glare, and I looked her straight in the eyes as she was forced to move over for the other customer.

I never saw her or heard from her, and she didn’t even leave me a bad review!

The Tale Of The Princess Karen

, , , , , | Right | May 15, 2020

I work in a library. It is a few days before we expect the state to announce a lockdown. We are allowing all patrons to come in and borrow books and movies without penalty fees to last them the duration of the lockdown.

Every nervous parent suddenly coming to terms with having to handle their spawn at home all day, every day, raids our children’s DVD section, and all the popular animated and Disney films are gone completely. I remember a mother checking out specifically because she is renting one of my personal favorite movies, “The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya,” a Japanese animated film.

I see her come storming in the next day, right up to me.

Patron: “You guys f***** up! You f***** up real bad!”

Me: “What is the problem, ma’am?

Patron: “You had this smut in the kid’s section! I started it for my son, and within minutes, some tramp is getting her boobs out! This is disgusting and I want to know what you’re going to do about it!”

For context, the movie is about an old couple finding a magical baby in the woods. The magic extends to the old woman regaining the ability to breast-feed, which she does so early on in the movie. It’s a totally innocent, natural scene, drawn in stylistic charcoal and not sexual at all.

Me: “Ma’am, the movie is rated G for all audiences. I have personally seen the movie and it’s a perfectly innocent and normal scene. I admit that the movie does cover some heavier themes compared to American animated films, but it’s still suitable for most children.”

Patron: “How dare you assume what is good for my child?! We are a God-fearing family and I demand this filth be taken off of your shelves!”

Me: “I will take a note of your complaint and bring it to the attention of our manager. We are expected to go into lockdown tomorrow, so please feel free to take another movie, instead.”

Patron: “I maxed out my book loans yesterday. Give me some more and I won’t make a scene.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I am not authorized to do that. I will call my manager and see what I can do.”

Patron: “You do that. I am going to find my new books and an age-appropriate movie for my child.”

She says that last sentence almost spitting with contempt. I call my manager and explain the situation, and after laughing, the manager says I am allowed to rent her three more books. The patron returns with some books and a movie and I relay what my manager said.

Patron: “Fine. I’ll take this movie and these books.”

The movie is a PG action film that, while generally family-friendly, does contain way more violence than the Japanese animation. The books, however, are all trashy romance novels, and the three she’s selected are “Bedded For Pleasure,” “The Playboy’s Passionate Pursuit,” and “A Naked Desire.” I scan them out.

Me: “I hope you enjoy a smut-free lockdown, ma’am!”