(I am a 22-year-old male, alone on my shift. I spot three teenage boys in the store. Their mother is with them, but she is currently nowhere in sight. A female customer around the same age as me—quite curvy and attractive—is also nearby. I’ve noticed that the boys keep following the woman, and are making pig noises at her.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Woman: “No thanks. I’d just like to check out, please.”

Me: “No problem, just follow me to the register.”

(I begin to scan her items. As I’m doing so, one of the boys yells out more pig noises, while his friends laugh. The woman is getting upset, and looks close to tears.)

Me: “Ma’am, would you please excuse me for a minute?”

Woman: “Oh, sure, no worries.”

(I march up to where the boys are. They try to run away, but I grab their ringleader by the arm and pull him back.)

Ringleader: “What the f***? Let me go!”

Me: “Not until you have stopped harassing that woman over there. I want you all to go over there and apologise for being so disgustingly rude to her.”

Boy #2: “You can’t make us do anything! You can’t even swear at us, or we’ll sue you!”

Me: “Oh, yeah? Let’s see what your mother has to say about this. Do you want to apologise to my customer on your own, or shall I call your mum on the PA system and get her over here?”

(The boys don’t say anything, so I use the PA system and call for the woman who came in with the three boys. Within minutes she’s at my register.)

Mother: “What’s going on? Why was I paged?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry to say that your boys were harassing that woman over there. They were following her and making pig noises. When I began to reprimand them, one swore at me, and they all refused to apologise.”

Mother: “DANNY, KYLE, LOGAN! GET YOUR SORRY A**** OVER HERE IMMEDIATELY!”

(Meekly, the boys go over to their mum. She starts yelling at them with vigor.)

Mother: *to the woman* “I am so, so sorry for my sons’ moronic behaviour! If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know.”

Woman: “Oh, it’s okay. As long as they’re sorry, I suppose that’s what counts.”

Mother: “Oh, they’ll be sorry alright! You’re such a nice lady, a lovely woman.” *to her boys* “You see that?! You little sods would be lucky to get a woman like that to marry you!”

(She leaves the store, keeping one son in front of her, and dragging the other two out by the ear, ranting and raving at them all the way out of the store until we can’t hear her anymore.)

Woman: “Phew! That was… eventful.”

Me: “Are you sure you’re okay? Those little snots were petty cruel.”

Woman: “No, I’m okay. But thank you for standing up to them. That was really kind.”

Me: “I was just doing what anyone else would’ve done.”

(We chatted for a little bit afterwards, and when I helped her load her shopping into her car, she gave me her number. We’ve been dating for five months now, and I couldn’t be happier!)

(I work in a Thai restaurant, handling the phones for takeout orders. I get a fairly large order, and am reading it back to the customer to ensure accuracy.)

Me: “…and a mild pad-thai, correct?”

Customer: “Yes, but could you make sure that the mild pad-thai doesn’t have peanuts on it?”

Me: “Of course. Did you want me to modify anything else?”

Customer: “The dumplings don’t have peanuts, right?”

Me: “No, but the satay comes with peanut sauce. Are you asking because of an allergy?”

Customer: “My girlfriend’s allergic to peanuts, but I think she’s just making it up.”

Me: “Um, I can tell them not to put peanuts in your meals, but there are peanut products all over our kitchen. I can’t guarantee that there won’t be any cross contamination.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure she’s faking it.”

Me: “With all due respect, I’d suggest that you get your girlfriend dinner from another restaurant. Peanut allergies are very serious, and can result in death.”

Customer: “Yeah, but I really want Pad Thai. She’ll be fine.”

(A few minutes later I get another call; this time from the girlfriend.)

Girlfriend: “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. My boyfriend just placed an order for delivery, and I wanted to make sure that they know not to put peanuts in my meal.”

Me: “I remember your order. This is an allergy issue, right?”

Girlfriend: “Yes. It’s really bad.”

Me: “As I told your boyfriend, I can tell them not to put peanuts in your meal, but I can’t guarantee that there won’t be cross contamination. Peanut products are a huge part of Thai cuisine. Would you like me to change your order to remove your portion of the meal?”

Girlfriend: “What an ass-h***. He’d really risk my life just so he could get some Pad Thai?”

Me: “Well, our Pad Thai is pretty fantastic.”

Girlfriend: “To die for?”

Me: “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll just go ahead and cancel the order.”

Girlfriend: “No, send the whole thing, I just won’t be here by the time it gets here. I’m breaking up with him.”

(A few days later, I come into work and there’s an Amex Gift Card with a note from the girlfriend.)

Girlfriend’s Note: “To the girl that made me realize what an ass-h*** my boyfriend was: go buy yourself a few drinks on me.”

(I am pregnant with our second child. My husband is wonderful, waiting on me hand and foot while taking care of our daughter. He takes all of my abuse when I am nauseous and cranky. I am still at work because of computer problems, and he instant messages me.)

Husband: “I love you.”

Me: “I hate you because I feel nauseous, and because you are a computer person. I hate computer people right now. Everything is so slow and stupid.”

Husband: “Okay. I will be the surrogate. Let your hatred of computer guys flow through you. Embrace the true power of the dork side!”

(My husband passed away in September, and it’s because of moments like this that I miss him.)

(My housemate’s girlfriend has just stormed out of the house. While I couldn’t make out any specifics, I can tell they just had one h*** of a shouting match. I check up on my friend.)

Me: “You okay?”

Friend: “No. We broke up.”

Me: “Ah, definitely not okay then. What was the argument about?”

Friend: “It’s so silly. It started about her liking Twilight.”

Me: “You broke up with her over a book?”

Friend: “She actually thinks it’s a good book! She said it was well written! It’s a piece of s***! And she thinks the films were even better!”

Me: “Dude, that’s just her opinion. You don’t need to break up with her because she likes one thing that’s crap. You had plenty of other things in common.”

Friend: “She also said that Lord of the Rings was boring.”

Me: “Well, f*** that. You made the right choice.”

(I’m in my mid-20s and work with a lot of high school girls who talk about relationships a lot. Three of them are arguing over whether nicknames or pet names are cute, immature, or annoying.)

Coworker #1: “They just make me roll my eyes a lot. I think they’re dumb. You outgrow stupid names.”

Coworker #2: “No you don’t! Hey, (me), you’ve got a boyfriend, right?”

Me: “Yeah. We don’t do the pet names thing, though.”

Coworker #1: “But you call each other ‘baby’ and ‘sweetie’, right?”

Me: “No, I don’t like that. He tried calling me ‘baby’ exactly twice before I told him to cut that shit out.”

Coworker #2: “See? It’s immature to call someone anything but their name!”

Me: *tired of hearing this argument* “I call him my ‘pet’ and he calls me his ‘mistress.’ Much more fun that way.”

(The conversation stopped right there.)