Unfiltered Story #67294

Unfiltered | September 11, 2016

I’m a cashier at a home improvement store where we sell various things like nuts and bolts in bulk quantities. You put them in a bag, write the corresponding item number and quantity on the bag, and then bring it to the cashier (me) so we can ring it up for you. Apparently this is a difficult concept for some people to grasp, but this guy took it about ten steps further…

This guy is probably about 35 but he’s wearing a stupid hat, skater jeans and shoes, and a backpack with a skateboard attached. He walks right up to my register with a bag of nails and promptly dumps them all over the counter. They go rolling in all different directions.

Man: Nails. Ten cents each.

Me: Okay! How long are these nails?

Man: They’re nails.

Me: Yes, sir, I know. How long are they?

Man: They’re ten cents each!

(He’s kind of shuffling back and forth, and now I think he’s on some sort of drugs. I’m new to the store and don’t know all the codes for everything here yet, so I pull out the code book where we have barcodes for different bulk items.)

Me: So you don’t know how long they are?

Man: They’re nails, I use them all the time!

Me: I… KNOW… they’re nails. I can see that; I’m asking you how long they are so I can find them in the book.


(I am not paid enough for this shit. I am scanning different codes of 8-inch nails in the blue book to see how much each one costs, since the customer obviously isn’t going to help. He watches as each price appears on the screen.)

Man: No, that one’s 63 cents. They’re TEN CENTS! It’s not 43 cents either! They’re just nails, N – A – I – L nails.

I finally found the right code and rang him up for his fifteen nails. He was so distractingly angry that I short changed him 40 cents on accident, and he said he didn’t have time to wait… because his mom was waiting for him outside.