Unfiltered Story #201328

, , | Unfiltered | July 21, 2020

(I work as a seasonal, part-time cashier for my hometown’s local branch of a popular arts and crafts retail chain. I’ve been working since late August, so there’s still things I’m a bit unsteady about, but for the most part, I’ve got enough down pat to do my job efficiently. While my managers don’t rant and rave about how great I am at customer service, I do maintain a mellow, relatively chipper demeanor and enjoy cracking friendly jokes with people, and try to do my best to be helpful if I can be. Our customers are usually few in number and pleasant to work with. This happens during the early hours of my shift, and one of the customers in my line has just discovered that she lost her wallet, went to her car to check if she left it there, and returns looking pretty worried.)

Me: “Did you find it out there, ma’am?”

Customer: “No, I didn’t. My husband just called and told me I left it at home. I’m just going to write a check, okay?”

(A small part of me wonders how she has her checkbook if she’s missing her wallet, but I figure she’s stressed out enough without me nitpicking details, so I let it slide. Now, the way our store works, we need a driver’s license, as well as its expiration date, before the check will process through our scanners. So, I’m waiting for her to procure her ID once she places the check down in front of me.)

Customer: “…Needless to say, I don’t have any ID.”

Me: *Mentally preparing myself* “…I’m sorry, ma’am, but without any ID, I can’t process this che-”

Customer: “TAKE YOUR STUFF AND BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!”

(This catches me and the twelve or so other customers nearby, plus four or five of my coworkers, completely off-guard, and everybody turns and stares at the woman in shock, before attention shifts over to me to see how I’ll respond)

Me: “Uh…”

Customer: “MY ADDRESS IS THERE, MY NAME IS THERE, YOU SAW ME WRITE THE DAMN CHECK!”

Me: “I really am sorry, ma’am, but without an ID, my hands are tied.”

Customer: “I DIDN’T FORGET MY WALLET ON PURPOSE!”

Me: “I understand that, ma’am, but it’s also not my fault that you don’t have your wallet or ID with you.”

Customer: “IT’LL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL FOR YOU!”

(At this point, she storms out in stunned silence. Everybody looks at me, totally flabbergasted. I just shrug it off and continue on as normal. For the next ten or fifteen minutes, my day continues as normal, but as I’m checking out a mother and young daughter’s purchase, the customer comes back.)

Customer: “I WANT MY DAMN CHECK BACK!”

Me: “Alright.”

(I pull the check out of my garbage can and hand it back to her)

Customer: “WHERE’S YOUR DAMN MANAGER?!”

Me: “Right over there, at the other register.”

(Indeed, my now re-stunned manager is right next door to me, and looks as if they’re steeling themselves for a massive argument as the customer storms over to them and proceeds to rant and rave about how badly I treated her. I continue on with my current customer, not really listening to the complaint, but do hear her suddenly bellow, “WHAT AN IDIOT!” at the top of her lungs.)

Customer #2: “Hey, I’m going to stick up for you. You did nothing wrong and I’m not going to let her get away with mistreating you like this.”

Me: “No, ma’am, you and your daughter don’t need to get wrapped up in this. It’s fine, please, don’t worry about it. I can defend myself.”

(Not wanting any of the folks in my line to get themselves caught up in the problem, I quickly get everybody checked out and on their way, just in time to hear this:)

Manager: “Well, is there anything you’d like for us to do about this?”

Customer: “I DON’T THINK ANY OF YOU IDIOTS CARE ENOUGH TO HELP ME!”

(She storms out once more)

Manager: “…Well, after that, I don’t want to, either.”

Coworker #1: “[My Name], what was that all about?”

Manager: “That’s what I’d like to know, too.”

Me: “What happened was the she forgot her wallet, tried to write a check but didn’t have her ID, and got mad when I told her I couldn’t process her check.”

Manager: “…So, she left her wallet and ID at home… and she drove here, regardless… and somehow thought that making an ass out of herself would solve anything?”

Me: “I guess?”

(For the rest of my shift, I was asked the same question by a number of the same customers from earlier, as well as ribbed by my managers for making some poor old lady mad because I wouldn’t take her check. Oddly enough, my day went great afterwards.)