I Defended a Cashier from an Entitled Customer – Days Later, Her Colleague Brought Me to Tears

Luis went back to straightening packs behind him, giving me the dignity of a few seconds to pull myself together.

I tucked the envelope into my bag, the cash still inside, and let the reality sink in: these people, who dealt with angry customers all day, had decided I was worth talking about in a good way.

“Tell Jenna I said hi,” I managed. “And that I still think she handles jerks better than I do.”

Luis chuckled. “She’ll argue with you about that,” he said.

“But I will.”

I walked toward the doors with my plastic bags cutting into my fingers and that warm, wobbly feeling still swishing around inside my rib cage.

The night air outside felt colder than it had when I’d first arrived, but I was warmer.

Driving home through the quiet streets, I kept replaying his words in my head.

We love you.

He didn’t mean it in some romantic, dramatic way.

He meant it like, We see you.

Like, You aren’t just the lady with two kids and a messy bun and a cart full of store-brand cereal.

You’re someone who showed up when it mattered.

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