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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!

    This Silver Story Is Pure Gold

    | New York, NY, USA | At The Checkout, Religion

    (A woman is attempting to return some rusted silverware she brought around five years ago from our store. Since it’s no longer on file and I can’t find any information on it, I call my manager, who happens to be both a former priest, and married.)

    Manager: “Okay, ma’am, please understand I can’t return this for its original price as this set is no longer in our system. I can return it for the price of our cheapest on-hand set, though.”

    Customer: “No, I want it for the original price. Nothing less. It was about $90.00, I believe.”

    Manager: “I am sorry ma’am, but I can’t do that on an item that’s over five years old.”

    Customer: “Oh, I think you can.” *she leans over the register and purses her lips* “I’d make it worth your while.”

    Manager: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: *smiles seductively* “I’m sure I could find some means of compensating you for such a nice favor.”

    (My manager stares at the woman for several seconds, then pulls out his wallet.)

    Manager: “Ma’am, I’d like you to have a look at this…”

    (The manager pulls out his ID that shows he’s been ordained.)

    Manager: “Now, I want you to look at this.”

    (He pulls out a picture of him with his wife, while holding up the hand his wedding ring is on.)

    Manager: “Now, I want you to take your cruddy silverware and leave before I call security.”

    Customer: *reels back* “Well, I never! I hope that b**** divorces your a** and takes everything you own, you f***!” *storms out*

    I’ve Got That Drinking Feeling

    | Brisbane, QLD, Australia | At The Checkout, Awesome Workers, Criminal/Illegal, Food & Drink, Underaged, Wild & Unruly

    (I’m standing in line at the counter, when an obviously drunk and under-aged boy wanders in. The cashier behind the counter is onto him like a shot.)

    Cashier: “Excuse me there, champ. Have you got some ID on you?”

    Drunk teen: “No, I don’t. Why?”

    Cashier: “I’m going to have to ask you to leave my shop then, champ. Right now, please.”

    Drunk teen: “What, just because I have no ID?”

    Cashier: “Among other things, yes. You can’t prove you’re 18, and you’re clearly drunk, which means you’re not legally allowed to be in this store. Please don’t be difficult; just leave.”

    (The drunk teen makes his way to the exit peacefully, but once past the front door decides to act up.)

    Drunk teen: “Well, f*** you! F*** you and get f***ed! I’ll f***ing be here if I want to f***ing be here!” *flips both middle fingers at the cashier*

    (The cashier, who is far taller and broader than he appears while he’s behind the counter, moves into the doorway to prevent the teen re-entering.)

    Cashier: *very calmly* “No, you won’t. Now you’re becoming both an annoyance and a disturbance. You’d better get out of here quick smart, before something happens that you’ll regret later.”

    Drunk teen: “F*** you! I’m gonna bash you man! I’m gonna beat your face!”

    Cashier: *cracks up laughing* “Champ, I doubt you could even beat yourself off at this point.” *takes a step outside the shop* “Please though, take a swing. Give me the excuse.”

    (At this point it apparently dawns on the teen that’s he’s in way over his head and his attempt at intimidation has failed miserably. The cashier seems quite willing to make an example of him.)

    Drunk teen: “Uh… uh… I’m… I’m gonna hurt you man!”

    Cashier: *icily, dangerously calm* “No. You’re going to apologise to the customers for annoying them, you’re going to apologise to me for annoying me, and then you’re going to leave, very quickly, before I put my size 14s so far up your arse your kids are born with tread-marks on their faces, so help me God.”

    (The drunk teen starts to stammer out something, but is interrupted.)

    Cashier: *in a very convincing and menacing Bale-Batman voice* “Get the f*** out of here. Now!”

    (The teen flees at his top speed, bumping into and tripping over everything in his path. We all give the cashier a huge round of applause, and an elderly couple high-fived him!)

    Small Print, Smaller Minds

    | IN, USA | At The Checkout

    (I work as a manager at a large craft store chain. A customer comes in, wanting to return a clearance item she had purchased from another store in our chain.)

    Customer: “I want to return this item, please.”

    (I look at her receipt, and notice it is over 60 days old.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t take back clearance items on receipts that are more than 60 days old.”

    Customer: “The cashier didn’t tell me that.”

    Me: “Well, our return policy is right here on the back of the receipt.”

    Customer: “Well, she didn’t tell me to turn it over and read it!”

    Not Quite The PIN-nacle of Intelligence

    | South Paris, ME, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Extra Stupid, Money

    Me: “Credit or debit?”

    Customer: “Uhh… debit I, guess.”

    Me: “Okay, slide the card here and then enter your pin.”

    Customer: “But it’s my friend’s card. I don’t know the pin.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to use a card that doesn’t belong to you.”

    Customer: “Do credit. I don’t need the pin for that.”

    Me: “Yes, but for credit the cardholder has to sign.”

    Customer: “I can sign it.”

    Me: “Only the cardholder can sign.”

    Customer: “Then I’ll just sign her name.”

    Me: “I can’t allow you to do that either. That’s fraud. We could both get into trouble.”

    Customer: “There won’t be any trouble. She told me I could use her card.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you use a card that doesn’t belong to you. Can you pay for these things yourself and then ask your friend to pay you back?”

    Customer: “I don’t have any money. Besides, I can’t trust her to pay me back.”

    Me: “Then I can’t sell you these items. I’m sorry.”

    Customer: “Why?”

    Me: “Ma’am, we don’t know each other, right?”

    Customer: “Um… nope. I don’t think so.”

    Me: “If I were to try to buy something from you with a credit card that you knew wasn’t mine, what would you say?”

    Customer: “I’d ask you for some kind of proof that you had permission…” *lightbulb goes on* “Oh!”

    (Although the customer seems to finally understand, but she continues to stand there.)

    Me: “Was there something else I could help you with?”

    Customer: “So, can I just sign her name?”

    Likely Story, Unlikely Store

    | Wayne, NJ, USA | At The Checkout, Extra Stupid

    (A woman walks up to the customer service desk.)

    Me: “Hello, ma’am. How are you today?”

    Customer: “I’d like to return these sandals. They broke when I was wearing them, and I fell.”

    Me: “Okay ma’am, not a problem.”

    (I look at the sandals, and they are not a brand that we sell.)

    Me: “Ma’am, these sandals actually aren’t from this store.”

    Customer: “Of course they are! I bought them just a few weeks ago, right on the rack over there!”

    (Even if she had purchased them here, the rack she is pointing to is in the complete opposite direction of where are sandals are.)

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this brand isn’t one that we sell here. I don’t know where you got them, but it wasn’t from this store.”

    Customer: “This is ridiculous! I bought these from this store! And I fell in them and hurt myself! I’m going to sue you! I got hurt wearing a pair of your sandals!”

    Me: “One moment, ma’am… I will call over a manager to assist you.”

    (I call the manager, who heads over pretty quickly. The customer continues ranting in much the same manner.)

    Customer: “I’m going to sue you and this store! I know for a fact that I got these here, and—”

    (She has stopped mid-sentence because she is looking down at her sandals. As she does so, her eyes grow wide, and she becomes very pale.)

    Customer: “…Oh. I don’t want to speak to the manager.”

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Customer: “I don’t want to speak to anyone. I’m sorry, this is the wrong store!” *leaves*

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