Give A Dog A Bad Name

Right | September 3, 2016

(I work in a small department store that also sells cigarettes. A regular customer comes in with his dog. We’re generally pet-friendly and just assume any dog brought in is a service dog. The man comes to the register with a couple of items and asks for a pack of cigarettes. While he is standing at my register, a black woman comes in. The dog goes crazy, barking at her, and she dashes behind my register and hides behind me.)

Me: “Sir, we’re a pet friendly establishment, but if your dog is going to bark at customers, I’m going to have to ask you not to bring him in anymore.”

(The man is beet-red in the face and looks livid, but he doesn’t say a word as he takes his stuff and leaves. Less than twenty minutes later he comes back.)

Customer: “I want the items you stole!”

Me: “Sir, I didn’t take anything.”

Customer: *brandishing his receipt* “I bought candles, and they weren’t in my bag; I want them now. And another thing, my dog is a service dog. I’m a d*** vet and I fought overseas so that [racial slur] can f***ing live here and go [makes rude sounds mimicking ululating] all over the place.”

Me: “Sir, please calm down.”

Customer: “You f***ing n*****-lover! That was a service dog; I can bring him anywhere I f***ing want!”

Me: “Sir, service dogs are allowed in any public place, but if they cause a disturbance, we are well within our legal right to refuse them entrance.”

(At this point he’s come around the counter at me and is leering over me. My coworker, a young black man, has to come step in between the man and me.)

Coworker: “I’m going to have to ask you to leave or I’m going to call the police.”

Customer: *string of profanities and racial slurs*

(Finally we get him to leave with further threats of calling the police. Not twenty minutes later however he comes back in demanding the candles I supposedly stole.)

Me: “Wait right here by the door. I’ll get them.”

(While I go to grab the candles, he proceeds to yell at all the patrons in the store to watch their bags and check their receipts because we are “dishonest n*****-lovers who steal.” I hand him his candles.)

Customer: “F*** you, b****; enjoy your African store!”

Coworker: “We will; thank you.”

(He left. However, my manager refused to allow us to ban him from the store, and I had to deal with him twice more before I resigned.)

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