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  • His Attitude Speaks Volumes
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    Category: At The Checkout

    The customer has seemed normal and maybe even intelligent throughout the shopping purchase. But then they get to the checkout and as soon as human interaction is required it all falls apart. The checkout operators really are our first line of defense against the stupid customer!

    How To PIN Them To The Crime

    | VA, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal

    (I’m a customer at a supermarket, in line behind a 30-40 year old woman, along with two other girls who appear late teens or early twenties. One of their items is a wine cooler. The woman points to the alcohol and starts chatting.)

    Customer: “I’m getting this for my dog; he loves [wine]!”

    Cashier: “Alright, I’ll need to see your companions’ IDs before I can sell this to you.”

    Customer: “She hasn’t got anything to do with me; this is mine!”

    Cashier: “I’m sorry; I can’t legally sell it to you until I’m sure they aren’t minors.”

    Customer: “Well I don’t know who she is. Just let me buy it!”

    Cashier: “I can’t; I could lose my job.”

    Customer: “Just get your d*** manager!”

    (The cashier calls the manager to the register.)

    Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

    Cashier: “This woman came in with these two, wanting to buy alcohol, and went off when I said I needed their ID.”

    Customer: “D*** right I went off! This b**** better give me my [wine]. I don’t even know those two!”

    Manager: “Well, I’m sorry, but it’s law. I can’t sell it to you.”

    Customer: “Whatever.”

    (She swipes the card, then turns to the younger woman she supposedly doesn’t know.)

    Customer: “Put your PIN in!”

    Younger Woman: “You don’t need it.”

    Customer: “Yes I do; I don’t know it!”

    (The very embarrassed younger woman types in the PIN, and the three leave together.)

    Me: *to the cashier* “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

    Cashier: “All day long.”

    Making A Spectacle Of Herself

    | Middlebury, CT, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Theme Of The Month, Top

    (I normally wear contacts. I am in a rush before work and just put my glasses on. A regular customer comes through later in the morning.)

    Me: “Hi! Just a medium today?”

    Regular: “Just the medium—hey, you’re wearing glasses! You never wore them before.”

    Me: “That’s because I always wear my contacts, ma’am.”

    Regular: “Don’t lie to me. You don’t need those!”

    Me: “I’ve needed glasses since I was nine.”

    Regular: “You know, I’m sick of you ‘hipster’ kids wearing ‘nerd’ glasses for fun! There are those of us that need them, and don’t appreciate what you’re doing!”

    (I motion to my black plastic frames with their small rectangular lenses.)

    Me: “I’m not hipster, and my lenses are too small to be nerdy.”

    (The regular reaches across the counter, and grabs the glasses off my face.)

    Regular: “You kids need to realize glasses aren’t just a fashion accessory!”

    Me: “Ma’am, please give those back.”

    (The regular puts them on, then flings them to the floor when she realizes exactly how strong they are. She picks them up and scratches a lens as she tries to figure out if they’re real. She throws them on the counter, breaking off one of the side arms.)

    Regular: “What the h*** is wrong with those? Why are the lenses so weird?”

    Me: “As I said, ma’am, I’ve needed glasses since I was nine. Actually, my vision is so bad that I legally cannot drive or even work without wearing vision correction. You just broke my only pair of glasses, which the local vision center does not carry anymore. How would you like to repay me for these?”

    (The regular takes her coffee and pretty much runs. My manager sees the whole thing on camera from the office, and gets her information from the next time she comes in. Because we have proof she had destroyed my property, she didn’t fight handing me a check to cover the cost of a whole new pair of glasses.)

    Treating Them Im-Parcel-ly Is Only Polite

    | Melbourne, VIC, Australia | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal

    (I witness a customer exchange at the counter while I am in line.)

    Customer: “I’m here to pick up a parcel; here’s the delivery card.”

    Clerk: “Sure, I’ll just look that up for you.”

    Customer: “By the way, why were you rude to my daughter?”

    Clerk: “I… what?”

    Customer: “My daughter came in earlier to get this parcel. You were rude to her, and wouldn’t let her pick it up for me.”

    Clerk: “I’m sorry. As I explained to her at the time, only the person whose name is on the parcel can take it. We have to do that to prevent fraud.”

    Customer: “Her name is on it! Look at the card!”

    Clerk: “Um… I’m sorry, but you wrote that in yourself. It’s a different coloured ink, and the handwriting is different.”

    Customer: “Are you calling me a liar?”

    Clerk: “Look, I’m sorry; only the person whose name is on the card can pick it up. I explained that to your daughter—”

    Customer: “You should learn how to speak to people properly, and stop being so rude!”

    Clerk: “Um… let me go get your parcel.”

    (The clerk is visibly upset as she leaves. Her supervisor comes back with the parcel in question.)

    Supervisor: “Here is your parcel. Now, can you see here on the parcel where it has your name on it?”

    Customer: “I don’t f****** care whose name is on it! I wanted my daughter to pick it up, and you should have given it to her!”

    Supervisor: “That would have been illegal. We can’t just give out parcels because someone says—”

    Customer: “I don’t f******* care! Just give me the f******* book to sign!”

    (She signs for the parcel and storms out, offering one final pearl of wisdom before going out the door.)

    Customer: “You should learn to f******* speak to people more politely, b****!”

    Acting Like A Dog

    | NC, USA | At The Checkout, Health & Body, Pets & Animals, Rude & Risque

    Customer: “You’re a very pretty girl. How old are you?”

    (I get flustered and blush as I finish the paperwork for his dog’s stay.)

    Me: “Uh, thank you, sir. I just, uh, I just turned 21.”

    Customer: “You’re still a little girl! I’ll be 40 this month. You know what that means: prostate exams. Do you know anything about prostate exams?”

    (I am hurriedly finishing the paperwork.)

    Me: “Your total is $235. Thank you for choosing our kennel. I hope Bruiser enjoyed his stay! He’s a sweetie; we would welcome him back anytime.”

    Customer: “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know anything about prostate exams?”

    (He winks at me.)

    Me: “No, sir. I do not. How would you like to pay?”

    (He leans over the counter.)

    Customer: “A pretty little redhead like you? I’m sure you know a lot about a lot of things.”

    Me: “I see you’ve previously used Visa. Would you like for us to charge the same card?”

    Customer: “I’d like for you to answer my question, honey.”

    (A coworker has overheard our interaction came to the front. He is approximately 6’3″ and solid muscle. His hair is also a brighter shade of red than mine.)

    Coworker: “I heard somebody up here likes redheads.”

    Customer: “I was talking to—”

    Coworker: “I know who you were talking to, and if you do not stop talking to her, the only thing that will be up your a** is my foot. Now how would you like to pay, sir?”

    (The customer promptly pays. The kennel owner received complaints about both my coworker and I, but she had also had incredibly creepy interactions with this client. She informed him that his business was no longer welcome.)

    Planning To Walk A Mile In Another Man’s Shoes

    | FL, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers, Theme Of The Month

    (I’m a cashier at a sports store. A customer comes up with just a few items, one being a small shoebox. I open the box and there are two dirty old kid’s shoes inside.)

    Customer: “Oh, my son has them on; he’s somewhere else in the store.”

    Me: “I just need to see the shoes before I ring them up, and make sure they are right.”

    Customer: “Oh, uh…”

    (He calls his son—who is standing ducked behind the candy aisle—over.)

    Customer: “Here!”

    (He cheerfully points at his son.)

    Me: “I have to see them up-close.”

    (He picks his son up and holds his feet out.)

    Customer: “See?”

    Me: “Can I get one of those?”

    Customer: “Sure?”

    (He’s not smiling as much now, and pops one of the shoes off.I check the shoe. It’s the same brand, same size, but different style number.)

    Me: “Oh, you’ve got the wrong shoe. Are these the ones you want? I can call for the right box.”

    (He puts on a big show of arm movements and smacking his forehead.)

    Customer: “Aww buddy! We got the wrong shoes! We got the wrong shoes, buddy. We’ll be right back.”

    (He takes back the box. I wait for a while, holding his other items. I call the shoe department to tell them about the man, and find out the box was for a much cheaper pair of kid’s shoes. I let my manager know, and she heads off after him. When the man returns, I am alone.)

    Customer: “Here we go!”

    (I check the box: same brand and style number. I nod, smile, and ring them up. My manager walks up, not smiling at all, and holds out another box.)

    Manager: “You wanted this too, right?”

    (He looks rather wide-eyed and quiet. He suddenly smiles and takes the box, nodding.)

    Customer: “Yeah, right! I lost this, thank you! I was going to ask for it. Haha.”

    (I ring up the box and the man leaves with his son. My manager says she followed my tip and found him putting on some adult shoes himself, determined to get a free pair. She just brought up the box for the shoes he was going to steal.)


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