(I work in the bakery department of a busy grocery store. The lines are always long at the main cash registers, so my coworkers and I usually try to buy food for break or lunch in our department. One day, it’s particularly busy for us, with customers lining up at the coffee bar and the cake case, and catching anyone who is putting out product with questions. Many of them are unhappy with waiting and are impatient with us when we can finally help them. My manager sees me finish taking an order with a particularly difficult customer and pushes me out of the department to grab something to eat for the first time all day. I go up to the main registers to cash out, since I know that my coworkers are already stressed out with how busy it is. I find the shortest line — six customers, several with big carts full — so I can to begin the wait which I know will take up most of my break. The woman in front of me looks around and sees my uniform.)

Woman: “Oh, you must be on break! I know you don’t get a lot of time; do you want to go in front of me?”

(I stammer a thank-you, and move in front if her. The next couple in line turns around, and offers the same.)

Me: “Oh, no, that’s okay. You guys don’t have a lot to check out, either.”

(They shook their heads, insisted that they had nowhere to be, and moved aside to let me go first. This process continued all the way up the line, with every single person at that point hearing that the people behind them were letting me go so I’d have time to eat. I cashed out very quickly, turned back to my very sweet customers and thanked them all again, letting them know how much it meant to me, and ran off to eat. I’ve had sweet customers, but never an entire line of them, and it really restored my faith in humanity.)

(It is our wedding day. Before the doors open for my father to walk me down the aisle, he slips something on to my wrist and tells me that everything will be okay. I should note that I have already been married once before. The music starts, the doors open, and we make our way to the front. It’s a beautiful moment, and then our dear friend and officiant asks who is giving the bride. My father steps up.)

Father: “Her mother and I are. And we’re not taking her back. She’s yours for life.”

(With that, my normally rather serious and traditional father sent the entire chapel into an uproar of laughter as he slapped the other half of a pair of handcuffs onto the wrist of my blushing but amused groom. We wore them for the entirety of the ceremony. We’re still happily married, and my dad loves to retell the story.)

(It is a Sunday afternoon and I am pulling a pallet with cases of water out to the sales floor. I greet a middle-aged, male customer wearing a suit and tie. I assume he has been to church earlier that day.)

Me: “Hi. How are you today?”

Customer: “Fine! Other than the fact that you are working on the Sabbath.”

Me: “Well… You’re shopping on the Sabbath.”

Customer: “F*** you, too!”

(The customer stormed off, but not before giving me the middle finger.)

(I have recently gotten pregnant with my first child, and am at my OB/GYN having an initial consult with a nurse practitioner who appears to be in her mid-50s. We are going over restrictions now that I’m pregnant. My family are avid fishermen, and my husband and I regularly eat the freshwater fish we catch.)

Nurse Practitioner: “Here’s a pamphlet on fish and seafood. Research has really helped recently, so there’s a comprehensive list of what types of fish are safe and which ones you should limit.”

Me: *looking over list, and noticing it’s only ocean fish* “Okay, but what about freshwater fish? Are there risks or restrictions on those?”

Nurse Practitioner: “It should be on the list; they have types listed there.”

Me: “No, I know, but these are all ocean fish: salmon, tuna, cod, etc. I’m talking about freshwater fish. My family and I catch and eat locally, and at our cabin in Minnesota:perch, bluegill, northern pike. Are those okay?”

Nurse Practitioner: “I’ve literally never had anyone ask me that.”

Me: “Really?”

Nurse Practitioner: “I guess I don’t get many patients who fish! I’d say it’d be okay to eat those as long as you ensure that they’re cooked thoroughly.”

(It surprised me that in a rural area, a nurse practitioner with that much experience wouldn’t have come across that before!)

(Our store is officially closing for good. This is in September. However, in February or so, someone placed an order for kids shoes, paid for it over the phone by credit card, and has never been in to pick it up, nor has she ever told us to ship the shoes. Said shoes have been sitting in the back of our “hold” shelf — behind a door, behind the registers — and we have all but forgotten about it. Our District Manager is helping us move stuff and destroy it, and since this box of shoes has been out of our inventory for six months, corporate cannot take it back without speaking with the woman who ordered. Luckily, we have the woman’s credit card and phone on file, so our District Manager called her. I can’t remember exactly what was said, but this is basically what happens. Please note our District Manager is from New Jersey, NOT the North Shore of Chicago.)

District Manager: “Hello. My name is [District Manager]. I’m looking for…” *silence* “Yes, hello.”

(The woman on the phone says something.)

District Manager: “Okay, so, we have shoes here that you bought in [Whatever Month]. We are closing this branch of the store, and we were looking to ship them to you—”

(The woman says something else.)

District Manager: “Well, we have them here, and…” *pause* “Well, we are willing to ship them to you free of charge…” *pause* “Yes, I understand you’ve moved to North Carolina, but as you’ve paid for them, we would gladly ship them to you…” *pause* “Yes, but as we are closing, and you’ve already paid for them, we can ship them to you free of charge…” *pause* “Ma’am, we’re closing. I repeat, we will not be here… “ *pause* “We can ship them to you. The store is closing. It will not be here. We will not be open. We will be closed. There…” *pause* “No, ma’am. We can ship them to you. Free of charge. Ma’am. You’ve already paid for them. Ma’am. Yes. I know you’ve moved to North Carolina, but as these shoes are out of our inventory, we cannot take them back.” *pause* “Yes, you can return them, but only on the card ending in [number]…” *pause* “No, ma’am, we cannot put it on another card. Ma’am. I know. We can ship them to you…” *pause* “Ma’am. Yes. We know you’ve moved. Yes. We’ll ship them. Right away. Yes. Thank you. Have a great day. Yes. Thank you.”

(She hangs up and I say:)

Me: “I love that you tried to tell her we could ship.”

District Manager: “That’s not what I was doing, but I wasn’t expecting her to be quite that stupid… considering she spent over a hundred dollars on kids’ shoes.”

(The rest of our closing went without a hitch.)