(At my restaurant we make Rice Krispie bars and cut them into wedges. At the end of the day, we have to throw them out because they get hard and stale. If there are a bunch left close to closing time, we usually just give a few to whoever is left in the restaurant. I approach some college-aged guys.)

Me: “Hey guys! We’re required to throw these out tonight, but they’re still good if you’d like one.”

Customer #1: “Are you serious?! These are my favorite things here! Oh man, I could just make out with you right now!”

(He takes the Rice Krispie, and stares at me like I’ve told him he’s won the lottery.)

Me: “Uh… um….”

Customer #2: “Dude, no!”

(He grabs his friend and pulls him towards the door.)

Customer #1: “LET IT BE KNOWN ON THIS DAY, I HAVE FALLEN FOR THE RICE KRISPIE GODDESS! I’LL BE BACK FOR YOOOOUUUUUUU—”

(He is cut off as his friends drag him out the door.)

(My older brother is in the military, and is engaged to his childhood sweetheart. She’s a full-time nursing student and is struggling to juggle work, family, and schooling. Due to his service complications, he is unable to provide her any financial support until they’re officially married. They’ve decided to be married by a JOP (Justice Of The Peace) over the weekend, instead of a vintage ceremony after she graduates. Our families have driven over 10 hours to meet them. My brother has been on the phone for over five hours trying to find someone to marry them. All the JOP’s in the next five towns were off the whole weekend, and no preacher felt comfortable marrying them without at least six months of marriage counseling.)

Brother: “Dad! I’ve found someone willing! They’re in [town another five hours away], and we need to be there by 2pm tomorrow!”

Dad: “Are you serious? Five hours! You can’t make that.”

(My brother and his fiancée have to be back on his base by 5pm on Friday to put in the financial paper work. Otherwise, this was all for naught.)

Brother: “Yeah, sure we can! “

Me: “No, you can’t. The five hour drive back means you won’t make it by 5pm.”

Brother: “We’ll make it.”

(The next day, both families pack up and are halfway to the town, when my brother phones us.)

Brother: “Turn back! We told a secretary here out story, and she called in a personal favor! He’s the first JOP I asked! He’d said no, since he’s only part-time and will be working at his business today. He can marry us here at noon!”

Dad: “That’s great! Why didn’t he agree to do it before?”

Brother: “Well… he’s working at a funeral home today. They’re painting, so he’s in ripped clothes and he can’t leave. We have to perform the ceremony there. [Fiancée] doesn’t really like it, but we’re taking what we can get.”

(My brother and new sister-in-law were married in the chapel of a funeral home, with the other seven of us standing between empty caskets! We joke about the story they’ll tell their children, and how the ceremony was ‘really dead.’ Love persists!)

(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 had a general absence of television when I was growing up. I’m unfamiliar with most movies. My boyfriend has taken it upon himself to introduce me to all the movies he feels everyone should know. We have just finished watching ‘Pretty Woman’, on a day when a chick-flick was exactly what I was in the mood for.)

Me: “I think that may be a new favorite. Are you going to be able to stand it if I watch that movie a few times a year?”

Boyfriend: “Sweetie, I already watch that movie a few times a year.”