Spicing Up The Deal(er)

| MD, USA | Criminal/Illegal, Extra Stupid, Top

(I work at an adult store that used to sell a fake type of incense called ‘Spice’. It is now illegal, so we no longer carry it. Every so often, an undercover cop comes in asking for it—just to make sure we aren’t doing anything illegal. There are two other customers of a shady sort in the store already.)

Undercover Cop: “Hey, do you guys carry any Spice, still?”

Me: “No, sir, we no longer carry that product.”

Undercover Cop: “You sure you guys don’t have any in the back?”

Me: “I am, sir; it is illegal in Maryland. It is also a serious drug charge if caught with it, so we no longer carry it in any shape, way or form.”

Undercover Cop: “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

(One of the shady customers approaches the guy, unaware that he’s a cop.)

Customer #1: “Hey, I got some stuff in my car you might be interested in.”

Undercover Cop: “Really? Show me.”

(I watch the three of them walk out the store. I quickly grab a broom and begin ‘sweeping’ by the front door. I see the two guys open the trunk of their car, and watch the cop’s eye go wide. I just stand at the door and watch the dumbest ever drug dealers get arrested in front of my store.)

The Scam Doesn’t Fit The Bill

| Waterville, OH, USA | At The Checkout, Liars & Scammers, Money

(I’m working the counter during the breakfast shift. The customer pays with a $10 bill. I hand back the change.)

Customer #1: “You shorted me $10; I gave you a $20!”

Customer #2: “You did. I saw him; he paid with a $20.”

Me: “Okay, let me check; just one moment.”

(I go and grab the manager’s keys to open the drawer. I’m already suspicious, since Customer #2 was so quick to speak up. I pull out the entire cash drawer and shelf.)

Me: “There aren’t any $20s in here.”

(I hold up the shelf were we usually put the $20 bills, to show them it’s empty.)

Customer #1: “Um, never mind…”

(After they leave, it dawns on me that the manager had just moments before emptied my drawer of $20s. Thank goodness for that!)

The Bigger The Bigotry, The Harder They Fall

| GA, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Family & Kids, Theme Of The Month

(I drive to a local franchise retail store. I walk in to find a friend of mine, who is 22, but looks much younger because she’s so small, working as a cashier. She runs out to give me a quick hug.)

Friend: “Hey! How have you been? My husband and my cousin are in the store right now! You should say hi to them!”

(A customer in his 30s in a ball cap, t-shirt, and overalls, rolls his eyes and comments.)

Customer: “Hey, b****! Get over here and do your job, and quit flirting with your boyfriend!”

Friend: “Sorry, sir, I haven’t seen him in months.”

Customer: “I don’t give a f***, w****! Get your a** back here, and ring up my stuff! That’s all you’re good for anyway!”

(I start to step-up to the guy, when she interrupts me.)

Friend: “First of all, I am married. Secondly, my husband is right there.”

(She points at him as he rounds the corner.)

Friend: “He’s a prison guard. His cousin with him is a pro wrestler. You may have seen him on Monday nights if you have cable. My friend here, who I just stopped from kicking your a** before either of them got here, is just a man who trains MMA fighters. Now… how may I help you?”

(The customer drops his items and wallet and runs out the door before we can stop him. I decide to be a good samaritan and return it to him by finding out where he lives from his ID. The look on his face when I returned them to him at home was priceless.)

Homer Said It Properly

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Her Son Is The Eggs-pert

| TX, USA | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(An elderly lady comes in, whom we all call ‘Egg Lady’. She always complains about how we bag her eggs. We used to bag them in a single bag for her. As that’s wasteful, we tried putting bread on top of the eggs, but she complained that the bread cracks the eggs. It’s gotten bad enough that the manager now makes a point of ringing her up, bagging her stuff, and carrying her bags outside. She comes in the day after Thanksgiving to buy 10 cartons of eggs, and comes to my register.)

Me: “Oh, Mrs. [Name], let me call the manager.”

(I call him over to register, and then make some small talk.)

Me: “How was your Thanksgiving?”

Egg Lady: “It was nice this time. My family came in, and my son bought me four cartons of eggs. I don’t know how he does it, but he must buy some of those government eggs.”

Me: “Government eggs?”

(The manager has come over, and is checking her out. I move to his register to log on, and check out others. The manager takes care to place the cartons one on top of the other, but is called off by another associate. Egg Lady notices I have no customers.)

Egg Lady: “I don’t have time to wait. My son and his family are expecting breakfast. You can help me load these in the car.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

(I turn off my light and go to help her.)

Egg Lady: “Yep, my son told me how he got these eggs from the government. They are genetically mutating chickens to make stronger egg shells now with all these vitamins inside of them. Only problem is that sometimes the eggs are coming out green.”

(I just smile and nod as I start to put the egg cartons in her trunk with care.)

Me: “It’s interesting what they’ll come out with nowadays.”

Egg Lady: “I might buy some of those government eggs next time. I hear you can smash them against the wall and they won’t break.”

Me: “I wonder how you crack them open, then.”

(She suddenly glares at me, and yanks the last bag out of my hand.)

Egg Lady: “How dare you laugh at me! I’m going to report you to your manager! My son told me that he had government eggs, and you’re going to mock me. If I were your mother, I’d spank your behind!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I wasn’t meaning to laugh at you. I was just thinking out loud.”

Egg Lady: “I’m going to tell my son about you, so he can prove to you that there are government eggs.”

(She throws the last carton in, and slams the trunk. This knocks over a small crate she has in there. I hear the crunch of it hitting the eggs. The manager comes outside just as she’s peeling off in a huff.)

Manager: “She’s coming back tomorrow, isn’t she?”

Me: “Yep. I’m calling in sick tomorrow, so I don’t have to watch her crack all of our eggs to find the government ones.”

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