(There is a store a couple of blocks from my house that I go to fairly often. I apply to try and get a job but am turned down. Since then I have found a better job. After work, I swing by to grab something for dinner, still in my uniform and name badge. Immediately, I am pounced on by three customers from different directions. This is despite my uniform being completely different from the store’s uniform.)

Customer #1: “FINALLY! There are no workers anywhere! I need to know where the walnuts are! The baking aisle isn’t where it used to be!”

Customer #2: “No, help me first! There are no more paper towels on the rack! They are on sale and I need them!”

Customer #3: “When you can, please, I need 20 bags of ice from the freezer.”

Me: “Uh… I don’t work here.”

Customer #1: “Oh of course you do! NOW, WALNUTS!”

Me: “Aisle eight is the baking aisle now, after the reset a week ago. Walnuts will be with the other nuts right next to the frostings, third shelf down I believe, about halfway down the aisle on the right.” *I turn to Customer #2* “Paper towels? If the rack is empty you should check at the end of aisle 15, there was a display end cap for them I saw yesterday and there should be plenty left.”

(I then turn to Customer #3, a little old lady who needs the ice. I lead her to the frozen aisle, load her cart for her, and give her a polite salute when she says goodbye. Then I finally grab my dinner and make my way to a check-stand. The cashier happens to be the owner, and as he rings me up he frowns.)

Owner: “Why the h*** don’t you work for me?!”

Me: “Uh… you never hired me.”

Owner: “An inexcusable oversight on my part! I heard you helping those people. Still need a job?”

Me: *I show him my badge from work* “Nope! Thanks, though.”

Owner: “D***!”

This story is part of our “I Don’t Work Here” roundup!

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(I am visiting my girlfriend at college. I am a chef by profession. I am buying a bottle of red wine to cook with for a few of her friends.)

Checkout Lady: “I need to see some ID for this wine.”

(I pull out a valid British passport. It shows I am 23.)

Checkout Lady: “Sorry, I have no idea what this is.”

Me: “It’s a British Passport.”

Checkout Lady: “What state was this issued in?”

Me: “It wasn’t. It was issued in England, where I live. I’m just visiting right now.”

Checkout Lady: “I can’t accept ID that isn’t American.”

Me: “Why not?”

Checkout Lady: “It’s corporate policy. It needs to be an American ID.”

Me: “That’s rather discriminatory; can I speak to a manager?”

Checkout Lady: “Well you don’t have to shop here!”

(A manager comes over.)

Manager: “Is everything alright here?”

Me: “No, I’m being told that because I’m not American, I cannot buy this bottle of wine to cook with. I have valid ID, it is just from another country.”

(The manager takes a look at my passport.)

Manager: “I’m sorry; this isn’t American, and we can’t accept this.”

(I have had enough at this point, and leave everything on the checkout counter without paying for it. I go across town to another store, and approach a staff member.)

Me: “Excuse me, but before I do my shopping here, do you accept passports as a valid form of ID?”

Employee: “Of course we do! Who doesn’t accept passports as valid ID?”

Me: “You’d be surprised…”

(I’m a teenager, although I look younger. My father owns a small, English-run shop, and I work some shifts there if I want some extra cash. My father can’t speak a word of Spanish, although I can since I go to school in Spain. Two customers walk in, talking in Spanish.)

Customer #1: “I hate this shop! It’s stupid, and they don’t even speak Spanish.”

Customer #2: “I know, right? I only come in here so I can mentally mock everything.”

(I’ve been listening the whole time, but they’ve only just spotted me.)

Customer #1: “Look! They’ve hired some low-life kid to help them out. I swear that’s illegal; I’m going to report it because it will be funny.”

(I’ve been keeping quiet, but now I get angry. I twist around, facing the men, and start talking to them in Spanish.)

Me: “Okay, listen up: I’m a teenager, and my dad owns this shop. In case you haven’t noticed already, I do speak Spanish, and I’ve heard everything you just said. So if you hate this shop so much, why don’t you get out?”

(We never see them again, which my father appreciates since they were always coming in without buying anything and he didn’t know how to say anything!)

This story is part of our Spain-themed roundup!

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(I work in a coffee shop that has a drive-thru, and we’re currently in the afternoon rush. I’m wearing a headset, making drinks for my manager who is taking the drive-thru orders.)

Coworker: “Hi there, welcome to [coffee shop]; how’s your day going?

Customer: “It’s alright. Get me a large black coffee.”

Coworker: “For sure! Can we get you an oat bar to go with that today?”

Customer: “A what?”

Coworker: “An oat bar.”

Customer: *angrily* “No, I don’t want a goat farm with that!”

(I am helping a customer with a return. Due to past misuses of the system, our registers are set to only do returns in the original payment method, or as a store gift card.)

Me: “Alright, ma’am, this was done as debit. I can either put it on a gift card, or back onto the same card, if you have it on you.”

Customer: “What? Debit’s the same as cash! Why can’t I get cash?”

Me: “I apologize, but that’s our policy. We can only do it in the method it was originally done, or store credit.”

Customer: “Well that’s just wrong. Debit is the same as cash! Everywhere!”

Me: “I understand, and I am sorry, but these are the only options I’m allowed.”

Customer: *handing me her card* “Well fine, put it back on the card.”

Me: *as I slide the card* “It may take one or two business days to show back up. Here’s your copy of the return, and I hope you have a nice day.”

Customer: *reading her return receipt* “Hey! It says credit on here! I paid debit!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The system has to credit it back to your card. It looks a little weird, but the money is going back.”

Customer: “If I use credit, I’ll be fined! My card doesn’t do credit! That first receipt said debit!”

Me: “Yes, the original purchase is definitely debit. Ma’am, it’s not charging your card; it’s crediting money back. I don’t know your particular bank, but there’s never been an issue—”

Customer: “What is your name? If there’s a problem, I want to know. And give me that original receipt back. It says debit.”

Me: “I’m [Name]. Give me just a second to copy some info off this receipt onto the return, and you’ll have it right back.”

(At this point, the customer is fed up, and leaves without waiting for her original receipt. I staple it to the return, and turn to help the next customer. Several days later, the same customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Hi. I was in here a couple of days ago, and you were helping me with a return. I… just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. I was having a bad day, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Me: “Oh! Thank you! I take it the return processed as it should?”

Customer: “Yes. But even if it hadn’t, there’s no excuse for the way I was acting.”

Me: “Well, thank you. Everyone has a bad day now and then.”

(Her making a point to return and say sorry was such a pleasant surprise; it improved the whole rest of my shift.)

Related:
To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due, Part 3
To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due, Part 2
To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due