I work in a sporting goods store. Our footwear department only has the left shoe of every kind of shoe we have out, so when a customer wants to try them, we retrieve the box from where we store them.

Coming out from the storage area, I see a customer looking at basketball shoes while wearing headphones. I approach with louder than usual steps so as to not startle them. It should also be noted that I am wearing a face covering as I have a cold.

Me: “Hey there. Any shoes I can grab for you?”

Customer: *Jumping and removing their headphones* “Who are you?”

I’m wearing a company shirt and lanyard with the logo on them and a name tag, I’m carrying a handheld scanner, and I have a printer for an unrelated task.

Me: “…I work here?”

As someone who’s outdoors in all kinds of weather, I opt to invest in a decent pair of hiking boots from a major outdoors and sporting goods store, with a repair service. When my old pair wears out (and is no longer waterproof) after six years, I go back to the same store to buy the exact same model again in August.

In November, a bare three months after buying them, I am cycling to my weekly D&D game when I am caught in a deluge. My raincoat and trousers keep me (mostly) dry, but I arrive at my destination with my feet drenched. This is not a little spatter; it’s clear that both boots have sprung a leak somewhere. My socks take hours to dry on the heater, and when I am ready to go back home, I have to put my now-dry feet back into wet and cold shoes.

Since it’s Friday night, and Saturday just happens to be a holiday, I am at the store bright and early with my boots. I explain my situation to the gentleman at the repair center. I am have some difficulty getting him to take me seriously. According to him, my boots cannot possibly be leaking after three months. What was I doing? Cycling? Am I sure it’s not just perspiration? These are heavy boots, after all! (I had to wring my socks out before putting them on the heater. No, it was not perspiration.)

Reluctantly, he takes the boots to send them to their repair center. If they find anything wrong with the boots, they’ll either repair them if possible or issue me a store credit. In order to send the boots in, I have to take out the laces and insoles. The insole of the left boot still has water droplets clinging to the underside, but he dismisses this, too, as an overreaction on my part. Still, he takes them, and I get an email confirmation that they’re being sent in.

On Wednesday morning at 9:05, I get confirmation that the boots have arrived at their repair center, and the process can take four to six weeks, depending. I resign myself to using my old pair for the time being, and I pray for no more deluges.

At 10:55, I get an email issuing me a store credit for the full amount. I guess they found the leaks.

A customer comes in with his son.

Customer: “I need a baseball kit for my son.”

I show him the relevant section.

Me: “We have an extensive range here, sir.”

He stares at me expectantly.

Me: “Do you need further assistance?”

Customer: “Well, yes! I don’t know what he needs.”

Son: “Dad, I—”

Customer: “Not now, son. Adults are talking. Now, what will he need?.”

Me: “Well, he’ll need the gloves and recommended shoes, I would think. What hand does he pitch?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Son: “I pitch right, but Dad, I—”

Customer: “He pitches right.

I talk to the son directly, as he seems to want to say something.

Me: “And what size shoe are you?”

Customer: “Excuse me, I’m standing right here. Talk to the adult, please. Just measure him for the shoes.”

Me: “And if he needs the whole outfit, it’ll be easier to know his age.”

The father stares a little and then looks at his son, who looks like he’s given up.

Son: “Seven.”

Customer: “He’s seven.”

Son: “And he’s also playing softball, not baseball.”

Customer: “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

Son: “But Dad… adults were talking.” 

I liked the sass of that kid. I got him kitted out with the correct equipment, and Dad was sheepishly quiet for the rest of the transaction.

When I was a kid, our whole family went to a sporting goods store. We all needed new things of different sorts: my sisters needed some winter clothing, I needed some football stuff, my mom needed some hiking boots, etc.

Dad was “the money”. He wasn’t buying anything for himself, so he just hung out near the cash register while the rest of us shopped for all the stuff that we needed. It took over an hour.

Eventually, we brought all the stuff up to the cashier. It cost quite a lot (the equivalent of over $1,000) seeing as we had a lot of stuff. At this point, my dad turned to the cashier with a smile.

Dad: “Any chance of a ‘waiting discount’, since I’ve been so good, waiting here for an hour?”

The cashier smiled back and gave him a 10% discount — a significant amount since the total was so high.

As my dad put it later: you can always ask. The worst that can happen is that they say no.

CONTENT WARNING: Injury

I work at an outdoor/camping/adventure store.

Customer: “I want to buy a knife.”

Me: “This is our selection here.”

She grabs a knife before I can start explaining them.

Customer: “Are you sure these are sharp? They don’t look sharp!”

As she’s asking, she runs her finger down the blade. Confirming if the knife is sharp is not needed as blood starts to run out from her finger.

Customer: *Angry* “You should warn people that they’re sharp! People will want to test them!”

My manager responds before I can.

Manager: “All I can say, ma’am, is that it’s a good thing you didn’t want to buy a gun!”