(I am standing in line at the airport. I am in the military and have just finished basic training and have two days to get home, spend Christmas with my family, and return for advanced training.)

Airport Employee: “Can everyone line up in order of your being called.” *reads list of ticket holders* “Okay, thank you. Now the flight has been overbooked so some of you are going to have catch the next flight, which is scheduled for tomorrow.”

(They start boarding everyone and stop when they get to the couple in front of me clearly together.)

Employee: “Oh, I am sorry, you two. There is only one seat left.”

(Everyone behind me groans and many start drifting off to make other arrangements, an option I don’t have because I am in Missouri and home is Washington.)

Husband: “Honey, they are your parents. You should get the seat.”

(The wife turns to talk to him and notices me:)

Wife: “Uhm, hey, where are you headed?”

Me: *startled, realizing she is talking to me* “Oh, I am trying to get home for Christmas see my wife and family.”

Husband: “Where are you from?”

Me: “Washington.”

(I can see them doing quick calculations in their head before I can say anything more they both look at the employee and tell her almost together:)

Them: “Let him have the seat.” *to me* “Thank you for your service.”

(I am holding back tears. I missed Thanksgiving for the first time in my life and Christmas is my first chance to go home. The employee leads me on to the plane, being part of the flight crew. After showing me my seat, she brings by a headset, and when I try to pay her she won’t take my money.)

Employee: “Honey, your money’s no good here. Thanks for keeping us safe.”

(I want them to know how much that meant to me. I went home and spent time with my dad. He died before I returned home again. If it hadn’t been for that couple I would have missed that. Thanks, wherever you are.)

(I’m a waitress at a small banqueting firm. It is the last party before Christmas, so we were all a bit stressed out. Another one of the waitresses working today, senior to me, usually likes to be in control and give orders. When I take drink orders I make a numbered list to make sure I remember all of it. Back in the kitchen there was a general chart of the seatings, named and numbered. Here we write down all drink orders so that we can be sure to get the correct payment from everyone at the end. I go back to the (stressed out) kitchen to align my list with the general chart:)

Me: “This is the list of drinks from my guests. I’ll get them all out before I align it with the chart.”

Senior Waitress: “No, give the list here, and I’ll align it while you get drinks out.”

(I give her the list and proceed to getting the first drinks and serve them. Getting back I look at the chart and notice that my list is written “upside down” from it, since I started taking orders at the bottom of the tables, and she didn’t realize this.)

Me: “Oh, it’s the other way around. That drink goes with him:” *points at the bottom of the chart* “Not her:” *points at the top of the chart, where she put it*

Senior Waitress: *looking flustered and puzzled* “But you wrote [number] by that drink, and that number is at the top, not the bottom.”

Me: “Yeah, I started my numbering at the bottom of the tables because I didn’t realize this, but you can just start at the bottom of the chart, so that number three on my list is number [third from the bottom] on the chart.”

Senior Waitress: *still flustered, doesn’t seem to understand* “Well, this is just confusing. You should have written the names instead of your own numbers.”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry about that. Do you want me to take over and align it instead? I know exactly who got what.”

Senior Waitress: “No, you go finish serving the drinks.”

(I went out with a few more drinks, and when I got back she was still struggling with the list and chart. I offered again to do it, but she refused to let me. This continued several more times, but even though she got increasingly frustrated she wouldn’t let me take over. I couldn’t do anything other than pointing out the mistakes every time I walked past – she just didn’t get it. In the end we finally got it all right, but it took way longer than needed. Some people are a little too fond of being in control, even when they’re not…)

(Our department celebrates holidays with each person bringing in a covered dish, and the manager ordering the main dish, like pizza. One of my coworkers claims to belong to a religious faith that does not celebrate holidays. We are careful not to offend her, and she gets the same amount of time off for the meal as the rest of us. She is never asked to bring in a dish for the holiday meals, but she has no qualms about partaking of our meals. One Christmas Eve, we have our holiday dinner at lunchtime, including various holiday-themed items like Christmas cookies, stollen, and even red and green pasta (tomato and spinach).)

Coworker: *fills her plate with Christmas-themed food and heads back to her desk*

Me: “Oh, hey, [Coworker]! I thought you didn’t celebrate holidays.”

Coworker: “I don’t, but I’m hungry and these all look so good.”

Me: “They’re very good. [Other Coworker] made the stollen and [Another Coworker] brought in the pasta. I brought the cookies. Almost everyone contributed something.”

Coworker: “Yeah, it’s a good thing they brought food in. Now I can work through lunch and still get paid for it!”

(While working lunches were the norm for our busy department, we took our lunch breaks for the holiday party since we weren’t actually working.)

Me: “Oh, well, glad we could do that for you.”

(I work for Royal Mail at Christmas as a casual worker. Due to the sheer number of Amazon parcels to sort (there were hundreds of thousands) my coworkers and I are pulled off sorting to help put packages into trolleys (known as yorks) so that the work can keep flowing.)

Manager: “Right, we need these parcels sorted out as soon as possible so if you lot can get them into the yorks and over to primary sorting that would extremely helpful!”

Coworker #1: “Uh, [Manager], how are we to get them open when the shipping boxes have been sealed with plastic wrap?”

Manager: “Ah, that is why I have these.” *he brandishes four pairs of scissors at us* “These should be able to help you.”

Coworker #2: *in a tone of mock seriousness* “All right, [Manager], put down the scissors. We’ll do the work!”

(I’m at a market with my father. Our cashier seems a little ditzy. This is just after we cut down our Christmas tree.)

Cashier: “And what have you done today?”

Dad: “We just killed a tree!”

Cashier: “What do you mean?”

Me: “We. Cut. It. Down.”

Cashier: “Well, that sounds brutal!”