I am helping some customers buy some local items. They are on vacation and have European accents, although I can’t place the exact country. They seem to have an American with them.

Me: “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you all from?”

Foreign Customer: “Denmark.” 

Local Customer: “They’re my cousins, visiting for the week.”

Me: “Oh, that’s awesome! I’ve seen pictures, and it looks beautiful.”

Foreign Customer: “Yes, it does have some pretty places. How much is this one?”

Me: “That’s [price] plus tax.”

Local Customer: “So, that’s about [full price].”

Customer: “Oh, yes, I forget that the tax isn’t included in the price.”

I’m about to make a light joke about differences between our countries when another customer who was listening in speaks up.

Other Customer: “That’s because your communist countries don’t do tax, because the state owns everything!” 

Customer: “Uh, that’s not true at all. Denmark is socialist, and we certainly do pay tax!” 

Other Customer: “Socialist! Terrible! I’m glad you managed to escape over to America. You guys are the okay ones. It’s the ones from Mexico we need to kick out!”

And with that, the customer wanders off as if they didn’t just string together a bunch of super insulting things one after the other. The poor group of Danes are looking at me with a look of bewilderment.

Local Customer: “Welcome to America, where a large part of the population uses the word ‘socialist’ to describe everything politically left of hunting the homeless for sport.”

Related:
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 6
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 5
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 4
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 3
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 2

I’m a woman with a pixie cut. I like to have an undercut and spike it up to keep me cool at work. Both members of a married couple have grabbed an item they only need one of. He hands me the extra one.

Husband: “Put this back; we accidentally grabbed two.”

Wife: “You should do it because it’s our fault and she’s clearly busy.”

Husband: “That’s her job.” *Pauses* “Or his or their job… I can’t tell anymore these days.”

Me: “I’m a woman.”

Husband: “Oh, good. I can’t deal with pronouns today. We didn’t have pronouns back in my day.” 

I just looked at the wife, who face-palmed and forced the transaction along before he could say anything else.

Customer: “I was waiting in line for a long time.” 

Me: “Sorry, the last customer paid with a check, and I haven’t done one of those in a while. It kinda blindsided me.”

Customer: “Oh, so [Store] hires people who use disabilities as an insult, do they?”

Me: “I… uh… No, it’s just a phrase.”

Customer: “The N-word was once just a phrase!”

Me: “Pretty sure that was always a derogatory insult from the beginning. ‘Blindsided’ just means—”

Customer: “I know what it means and stop saying it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

I process the transaction in silence.

Customer: “That item is supposed to be 10% off!”

Me: “Oh, that sale actually starts tomorrow, but I can apply the discount now for you.”

Customer: “Seriously, so dumb.”

The customer was sadly… blind to the irony.

Related:
Deaf To Reason, Part 16
Deaf To Reason, Part 15
Deaf To Reason, Part 14
Deaf To Reason, Part 13
Deaf To Reason, Part 12

I am a fairly newly adult-aged person, not yet independent due to severe life complications that are outside the scope of this site. I am out with my grandparents, and they decide to have me go into the grocery store with $5 to buy some ice.

I go into the store — which, at this point, I’ve never done on my own — and go to get the ice. I go to the checkout line, and since I have a massive sweet tooth, a candy catches my eye. I decide to grab it and hope I can afford it with the ice.

Next to the big bag of ice, the candy is very small. This, combined with a look at the screen, tips me off that the cashier has failed to notice the candy. I ask as much, and the cashier confirms my suspicions and adds it to the bill. It turns out that I can’t afford both the candy and the ice with the money allotted.

Obviously, my plan is to (somewhat sadly) put the candy away, since I’m not completely uncivilized, but a nearby employee is watching all this… and decides they’ll cover the cost of the candy for me. Thank you, kind employee!

I have ADHD and keep a bright purple fidget toy attached to my belt with a carabiner whenever I’m at work. (It keeps me from zoning out if I’m under- or over-stimulated, which is really important because if I start to zone out then it can take upwards of ten seconds to get my attention — not a good look to customers, coworkers, or managers.) 

One day, my manager calls me to the customer service desk for something or other. As I start backing up to walk away, she speaks up again.

Manager: “What’s that on your belt?”

Me: “It’s a fidget toy.”

I unclip it and hold it up to show her.

Manager: “Can I try?”

Me: “Sure.”

I hand it over and she stares at it. She looks almost mesmerized as she slowly and methodically flips the switches, clicks the buttons, and circles the tiny joystick, oblivious to anything else. This goes on for longer than I expected, and I start to squirm.

Me: “Could… Could I have it back? There are customers waiting for me.”

Manager: “Huh? Oh, yeah, here you go.”

I clipped it back to my belt and speed-walked back to my area, all the while playing with the joystick. I’ve had plenty of people ask what it was, and one or two little kids have tried to grab it, but I’ve never seen someone so thoroughly engrossed!