Me: *ringing up a customer’s items* “How are you doing today?”

Customer: “That milk was supposed to be $1.79, not $1.89.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Let me have someone run a price check on that.”

(My coworker comes over and takes the milk to check the price.)

Coworker: “He is correct; the milk is $1.79.”

Me: “Thank you.” *reduces price on milk* “Alright, sir. That’ll be $4.75.”

(The customer hands me a five dollar bill and starts walking away.)

Me: “Sir, did you want your change?!”

Customer: “Nope!” *walks off*

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?”

(It is approximately five minutes past closing time at our drugstore. While my manager and I are counting the cash drawers, a man begins frantically banging on the doors and yelling at us.)

Customer: “Why are your doors locked?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening. We close at 9 and it is now almost 10 minutes past.”

Customer: “But I just need one thing! It’s an emergency!”

(I look over at my manager who sighs and nods. He puts one of the cash drawers back into the register while I unlock the door and let the man in.)

Customer: “You’re lucky you decided to unlock that door! I was about to break it down!”

Me: “What is it that you need? I can help you find—”

(The man pushes past me. After waiting for a few minutes, my manager is fed up.)

Manager: *yells toward the back of the store* “Sir? What is it that you need? Sir?”

(There’s no response from the customer, so my manager starts to head back to find him. They nearly collide at the end of an aisle.)

Customer: “Hey, watch it! I got what I need. Why are you so impatient?”

Manager: “Because we are supposed to be on our way home by now! My children are waiting for me to read them a bedtime story. Please pay for your items and be mindful of the store hours from now on.”

Customer: “Don’t talk to me like that! I’m a paying customer!”

(The man comes up to my register and drops his items on the counter: a bottle of personal lubricant, a bag of chips, and a bottle of wine. The customer pays and leaves. My manager is fuming.)

Manager: “THAT WAS THE BIG EMERGENCY?!”

Related:
Your Urgency Is Not My Emergency

(Every night, the drugstore I work at does a closing announcement 15, 10, and 5 minutes before closing and also one at closing. I’ve just made the 10 minute announcement when a middle-aged man comes up to my register.)

Customer: “Was that you making that last announcement?”

Me: “Yes it was. We do a few of them every night.”

Customer: “You sounded very professional! Are you going to do more of them?”

Me: “Thank you, and yes. I’m going to do the five minute announcement shortly.”

Customer: *very excited* “Can I do it?!”

Me: “Uhh… well, I don’t think so. We have to do it at just the right time and we follow a script that I have memorized.”

Customer: “Aww, man!”

(I finish the customer’s transaction and everything seems fine. He walks away a few steps and starts messing with his wallet. I pick up the speakerphone to make the next announcement, but just as I start to talk, the man grabs the phone from me. As he does so, he slams it into my face and gives me a bloody lip in the process.)

Customer: “HEY EVERYBODY! THIS IS DJ SEXY! IT’S THAT TIME OF THE NIGHT AGAIN!”

(I’m completely shocked and try to get it back from the customer. However, he keeps ducking and moving so I hit the hangup button instead. By that point, the manager has come running up to us. The customer sees my manager, drops the phone, and runs out of the store.)

Manager: “What in the h*** is going on?! Why did you let him do that?!”

(Note that as my manager questions me, I’m dabbing my bloody mouth with a tissue.)

Me: “Let him?! He grabbed it from me and hurt me in the process! That guy was crazy!”

Manager: “Well… you should be more careful!” *walks off*

(I tried to file an accident report with the store and asked the manager to call the police so that there would be a record of the event in case the guy came back. He refused to do either, so I quit that night!)

(I work at a drugstore. When someone comes in with a fake ID, we can refuse to sell to them, but we can’t actually confiscate the fake. A teenage girl walks up to the counter.)

Teenage Customer: “Just this, please.”

(She puts a pack of Budweiser on the counter.)

Me: “May I see your ID?”

(She hands me an ID that is obviously fake; the state is spelled wrong.)

Me: “What year did you graduate high school?”

Teenage Customer: “Um…”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t sell to you.”

Teenage Customer: “F*** you, you little ****! Just give me the f***ing beer!”

Me: *deep breath* “Listen. I have had a very, VERY bad day. You can leave quietly and take your fake along, or I can call call the police and they’ll come arrest you. Which would you prefer?”

Teenage Customer: *turns red, grabs her fake and runs out of the store*