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    Category: Criminal/Illegal

    Wallet Walkabout

    | Sydney, NSW, Australia | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Money

    (I work in a store with four departments, each with their own checkout counter. A woman approaches my counter and asks to make a payment on a layby. I ask if there is anything else she needs. I have a funny feeling about her.)

    Customer: “No, just this. I’ll be leaving now.”

    (I watch her leave, then get to a point and turn into a tight aisle of fabric which is better accessed from the other side. I walk up to her.)

    Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

    Customer: *eyes wide with shock* “I, umm, oh, I don’t know what it is… I haven’t touched it.” *quickly leaves*

    (I look down to find a ladies wallet in the rolls of fabric. I take it to my counter and page for the owner a couple of times. I then get stuck serving customers for 10 minutes before I take it over to the office. I pass by the fabric counter as I do.)

    Me: *to a coworker* “Is there anyone in the office? I have found a wallet.”

    Coworker: “Where did you find that? We’ve been looking for it. I was serving a customer who put it on the counter, went to pay, and it was gone.”

    Me: “Really?”

    Coworker: “Yes, and the woman who was behind her in the line left suddenly as we noticed. We both asked where she was going and I stopped her to ask if she had seen the wallet. She told me no. Then I watched as she went around the back of your department and you served her. I just figured she had forgotten something.”

    Me: “I had a funny feeling so followed her. She pretty much led me to where the wallet was hidden. *takes coworker to the spot*

    Coworker: “This is right where I stopped her. She must have thrown it into the fabric, the b****!”

    (We had no real proof but the woman was lucky that we didn’t report it as her layby contained her name and address. The other customer was so happy to have the wallet returned intact!)

    Colorful Employees

    , | IL, USA | Bigotry, Criminal/Illegal, Food & Drink

    (I am the guest relations person, so I return calls from disgruntled customers all the time. The restaurants are fast food and all have drive thrus.)

    Customer: “Did you know you have gang members hanging around your [Location] restaurant?!”

    Me: “No, sir, I did not. Have you spoken with the manager of the establishment about this?”

    Customer: “I did and he laughed me off!”

    Me: “I’m very sorry about that, sir. We ask that our manager’s take guest concerns seriously. Where are you witnessing gang members around the facility?”

    Customer: “He should be able to see them. They are hanging out in your driveway there, all wearing the same clothes ALL THE TIME!”

    Me: “How are they dressed?”

    Customer: “They are wearing black shirts, khakis, and hats! They are always there until you guys close!”

    Me: “Sir, you are describing our drive thru staff. They are wearing our uniform and stationed outside to take orders.”

    Customer: “But they’re all black and Mexican!”

    Me: “We are an equal opportunity employer and do not discriminate who we hire.”

    Customer: “This is bulls***! I want to talk to your manager!”

    Me: “Sir, you can talk to my manager if you’d like but you are describing our staff. They are not a gang and there would be nothing she would be able to do about it.”

    Customer: “I SAID I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

    (My manager explained the same thing I did and the customer screamed so loudly we hung up.)

    Driving On Booze Control

    | Princeton, NJ, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Food & Drink, Underaged

    (I work at a liquor store, and we have one major rule. If you appear to be under 30 you MUST have your ID on you unless you are accompanied by a parent or guardian. If you do not have your ID on you no one in your group is allowed to purchase alcohol. Two guys come into our store together and start making a ruckus. The one guy looks about 23 or so, but the other can’t be 17. They’re yelling up and down the aisles to each other looking for something to purchase. I greet the two of them and start scanning their items. I ask for their IDs.)

    Customer #1: “Here you go.”

    Me: “Thanks.” *pointing at Customer #2* “I just need to see your ID as well.”

    Customer #2: “I don’t got mine.”

    Me: “Okay. Is it in the car or something? I need to see both of your IDs because you came in together.”

    Customer #2: “Why? I didn’t come in here with him. We met up outside and walked in together.”

    Me: “Let me get my manager. He’ll be able to sort this out for you guys.”

    (My manager comes over and I explain to him that the one has his ID, but the other guy doesn’t. My manager reiterates the store policy. As this is happening, Customer #2 hands a $5 bill ‘stealthily’ to his buddy.)

    Customer #1: “We’re friends from work! We ran into each other inside. Why am I getting denied service because I happened to run into him and happened to get in line with him at the same time.”

    Manager: “Well, if that’s the case why did he just hand you money and try to walk out towards the door?

    Customer #1: “I had asked to borrow some money! This is b******t!”

    Manager: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s the law. For all we know, you’re about to purchase alcohol for a minor, and we could get fined for that.”

    Customer #2: “That’s racist! You’re refusing to sell to us because we’re [race]!”

    Manager: “No, sir, that’s not why. I just told you why I’m refusing service.”

    Customer #2: “Well, if that’s the case why didn’t you card that baby in the other dude’s line over there?”

    Manager: “Sir. Think about what you just said. Do you really think that baby is really going to drink anything in that cart?”

    Customer #2: “Whatever. I’m calling the cops. You’re going to be arrested for being racist. You racist son of a b****!”

    Manager: “Okay. I can wait. I’ll just tell them that your pal just tried to purchase alcohol for a minor.”

    (With that they walked out of the store, screaming and ranting, and wound up kicking over one of the basket returns by the exit, never to be seen since.)

    No ID, No Idea, Part 15

    | Salem, NH, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal

    (The store I work at sells chocolate liqueurs. Because they are alcoholic, I cannot sell them to anyone who doesn’t have an ID on them. A couple of young women come up, and seeing the liqueurs by the register, put a couple in with their purchase.)

    Me: “I’ll need to see some ID for those.”

    Customer: “Oh, I left my ID in the car.”

    Me: “I can hold onto your stuff while you go get it.”

    Customer: “I don’t want to go all the way to my car and back!”

    Me: *moving the liqueurs aside* “All right. I’ll just put those back, then.”

    Customer: “But, I want them.”

    Me: “I’ll need to see your ID.”

    Customer: “It’s in the car!”

    Me: “I can hold your stuff for you while you go get it.”

    Customer: “Look, I LOOK old enough to drink, don’t I?”

    Me: “Yes…”

    (Smiling, the woman nudges the liqueurs back into her pile of stuff. I promptly nudge them back out.)

    Me: “My underage sister LOOKS old enough, as well.”

    Customer: “But I want those!”

    Me: “I’ll need to see your ID.”

    Customer: “It’s in the CAR!”

    Related:
    No ID, No Idea, Part 14
    No ID, No Idea, Part 13
    No ID, No Idea, Part 12

    The High Point Of My Night

    , | Canada | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Food & Drink

    (I work as a cashier and am finally at the end of a long, frustrating split-shift. About 10 minutes to closing a group of guys in their early 20s come in and head straight for the confection aisle. They seem to be having a hard time deciding, and become panicked when my supervisor makes the closing announcement. They shove their candy, chips, and pop into the arms of one guy, and push him toward the cash. They leave the store, leaving their friend to pay. He places the items very slowly on the counter, blinking with confusion a number of times, swaying a little on his feet. I ring his items through.)

    Me: “That’s $14.59. How will you be paying?”

    Customer: “Uh… debit?”

    (He slowly pulls out his wallet and fumbles for his card. He finally places it in the debit machine, and then stares at it, unmoving. The machine times-out, so I reset it. He manages, with some difficulty to make it through the rest of the transaction. When I place his bag in front of him, he looks confused.)

    Customer: “Is this mine?”

    Me: “Yes, it is.”

    Customer: “These are the things I bought?”

    Me: “Uh… yes. Are you all right?”

    Customer: “Huh? Oh, yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just really fried.”

    (He pulls a 2 dollar coin out of his pocket and puts it on the counter.)

    Customer: “Don’t tell; my parents know the owner.”

    (He left, marveling at the automatic doors as he did. He has been back to the store a number of times, in the same state, and makes my day whenever he shows up.)

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