Bagged Herself A Steal

(I’m a college freshman working in a thrift store. The most expensive item in the shop is $10. I am straightening up a rack when I watch a customer go into a dressing room and then emerge from the dressing room wearing a completely different outfit and make for the door. I stop her.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am! You realize you’re going to have to pay for that, right?”

Customer: “I know that! I’m not an idiot!”

(The customer turns around and walks over to a bookshelf, as if that’s where she’d been headed all along. I go back to the rack but watch her out of the corner of my eye. She slowly begins making her way towards the door again.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. You still need to pay for that.”

Customer: “I did.”

Me: “Ma’am, I watched you. You went to the bookshelf and then tried to leave again.”

Customer: “You were SPYING on me?! I want to talk to your manager!”

(My manager, having heard the commotion, is already on his way over.)

Manager: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes. This little girl was spying on me and accused me of trying to shoplift my own clothes!”

(I began to bristle and protest, but my manager shushes me and points to the customer’s pants. Or rather, to the price tag sticking out of the pocket. The woman looks down at it and then bolts for the door. I start after her, but my manager calls me back.)

Manager: “Ah, let her go. She’s only wearing about $6 worth of merchandise anyway.”

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