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    Lunch Lady Is No Lady

    | MI, USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests, Family & Kids, Theme Of The Month, Top, Wild & Unruly

    (I am helping a customer who, with her six-year-old son, pick out stain for her deck. I am the only person in the paint department. Another customer comes up to my desk. I call for backup.)

    Me: *to Customer #2* “It should only be a few minutes wait.”

    (After about 30 more seconds, Customer #2 storms down the aisle to where I am still working with Customer #1.)

    Customer #2: *to Customer #1* “This isn’t personal shopper day! Other people need help; you need to get your s*** and leave!” *to me* “Get your a** on the phone and get someone over here to serve me, b****!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, he was with another customer. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

    Customer #2: *goes back to the desk to wait* “B****!”

    Me: *to Customer #1* “I’m sorry about that—”

    Customer #1′s Young Son: “It’s okay lady! She is my lunch lady, and she is mean to EVERYONE! Don’t listen to her; you’re doing great helping mommy!”

    Of Mama Bears And Magic Hairs

    | AB, Canada | At The Checkout, Bizarre

    (I am working as a cashier. A very tall and slender man, in his late 20s, wearing all black, with shoulder length black hair, facial piercings, and white and black face make up, and his nails painted black comes up to my till.)

    Me: “Hi, did you find everything? Or is there something I can help you with?”

    Customer: *in a very quiet low voice* “Um… yeah. I was wondering if you can hold this for a little while. Mama bear is done shopping over at [grocery store], and I need to go get her.”

    Me: “Sure, if you just want to leave it here, I can put it under my till or you can take it to customer service.”

    Customer: “I will leave it here.”

    (The customer walks away. After about 15 minutes, he comes back to my till.)

    Customer: “Hi, mama bear wasn’t finished, so I need to know if you can hold my stuff a while longer.”

    Me: “Sure thing, that won’t be a problem.”

    (He then proceeds to reach out a touch my hair.)

    Customer: “I feel the energy of your hair. It wants you to know, it loves you.”

    Me: “…”

    (Once again he walks out the door. After another hour he comes back in with an older lady, in her 80s with a cane.)

    Customer: “See Oma, this is who I was telling you about. Do you feel that energy?”

    Old Lady: “Yes, she feels very light, like clouds.”

    Me: “Are you ready to pay?”

    Old Lady: “In a minute, dear.”

    (This is when a middle aged lady, maybe 50, walks in grabs their hands and starts leading them toward the door without purchasing their items.)

    Customer: “But mama bear, the hair!”

    Coworker: “That was odd.”

    Fought For His Country, Not Just His County

    | NJ, USA | At The Checkout, Military, Money

    (Our store gives a military discount, but you have to have one of three types of nationally-issued ID cards to get it. It can’t be a state, county, or city-issued ID. My current customer has a county-issued veteran’s card.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir; we can’t take these. It must be a nationally-issued card.”

    Customer: “This IS nationally issued!”

    Me: “No, this is a county VA card. The county seal is right there. It has to be from the Department of Veteran’s Affairs in DC.”

    Customer: *blankly* “This IS a VA card.”

    (I pull out the cheat-sheet for cashiers.)

    Me: “It has to be one of these types. They’ve gotten very strict on that.”

    Customer: “I’m going to [competitor]! They know how to treat their veterans right!”

    (The customer storms out. A regular, who is a retired vet, comes up to me.)

    Regular Customer: “Good for you! I can’t stand people like that.”

    Me: “I was about ready to rattle off my parents’ names, ranks, and postings. Mom did her 22 years, and Dad’s a Lieutenant Colonel. And both of them would’ve told me that if I didn’t have my ID, too bad!”

    Raining On Her Parade

    | IA, USA | Extra Stupid

    (It is raining outside. When it rains, water comes under the door to the garden section, which is located outside. A customer almost slips.)

    Customer: “OH MY GOD! I COULD HAVE REALLY HURT MYSELF! YOU PEOPLE SHOULD HAVE WET FLOOR SIGNS WHERE IT IS WET!”

    Me: *points to wet floor sign in front of the door*

    Customer: “Oh… sorry.”

    (She scurries out to her car.)

    Invoking Blind Fury

    | Culpeper, VA, USA | Health & Body, Home Improvement, Wild & Unruly

    (I’m working in the area of the store where we have patio furniture and the like. Per my standard style, my hair is pulled up but my long bangs are heavily covering my left eye. I’m helping a little old lady with some patio cushions.)

    Me: “Yes, this style will fit your furniture. It’s UV-stable, so if it’s out for a long time it won’t damage, crack, or fade too quickly.”

    Lady: “Oh, thank you so much! You’ve been just so helpful. Why, it’s so difficult to get straight answers sometimes; everyone’s always in such a hurry!”

    (The customer starts rambling a bit, as older ladies sometimes do. I’m used to this behavior, so I tune out just a bit, and consider when I should take my next break. Suddenly I see the customer reach towards my face, and I tune back in immediately.)

    Lady: “Young people nowadays just don’t know anything! Look at you! Get that hair out of your face! If you leave your hair in your eye like that, you’ll go cross-eyed!”

    (The customer has her hands on my face, and is physically pushing my hair out of my eye. As we’re not allowed to touch customers no matter what, I simply back up. The customer gets aggravated.)

    Lady: “Now come here missy, and stop being so disrespectful!”

    Me: “Ma’am, let me stop you right there. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t touch me again. Second, if you will let me move my own hair out of the way, you will see that my left eye is severely crossed. I was born with significant strabismus, and can’t see out of that eye. I have never been able to see out of it. I usually have my hair covering my left eye because it often disturbs customers, and they don’t know which eye to look at. So, I don’t think your advice has much weight here, does it?”

    Lady: “Well… you should consider yourself lucky! My niece was born with a cataract! Humph!”

    (The lady walks away, not buying a single thing I have spent twenty minutes helping her pick out. I sigh, put my hair back in place, and decide yes, this is a great time for a break.)


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