Ain’t That A Box In The Head

I was working the register at the supermarket. The queue was already pretty long. A lady intended to pay for her shopping with her card, but it was declined. She tried a couple of times, blamed our card reader, etc.

I had to call the manager to reassure her that there was nothing we could do if her card was declined and that she could leave her shopping with us and get another card or cash from home.

Customer: “That’s not an option. I’m leaving for the weekend, and I need this stuff now.”

She checked for cash and found some, but it wasn’t enough for her entire cart, so I told her I could rescind items until the price was equal to the amount of cash she’d brought.

She started pushing them toward the register with such force that a bag of potatoes dropped off at the other end. I bent down to pick it up, and she pushed the next one, some flat carton. It hit me in the shoulder when I came back up and also fell to the floor. I gave her a strange look and picked that one up, too, but when I started to get up to my seat again, a bottle hit me in the head that she had rolled over the countertop.

Me: “Be careful, please.”

Customer: “This is all your fault! I was in a hurry before you refused to take my card, but now it’s even worse, and I’m going to be late!”

As she took her stuff, she told us she wouldn’t come here anymore, as if that would be a punishment.