Grand Theft Innocence, Part 19

Ohio, Parents/Guardians, Retail, USA, Video Game Store | Right | June 6, 2025

I work for a well-known retailer in the Midwest, primarily in the electronics and toy departments. You can probably imagine the “fun” that came with that. For context, this incident happened about four months after the original release of ‘Grand Theft Auto V’—the Xbox 360 and PS3 versions.

It was around 2 PM, and I was at the photo desk putting together one of those cardboard DVD displays near the registers when something flew past my face. At first, I ignored it, finished my task, and looked down. Sitting on the floor was a copy of GTA V for the 360. I picked it up, looked to my left, and saw a middle-aged—maybe older—woman glaring daggers at me.

In my most professional voice, despite being dead tired, I asked:

Me: “Can I help you?”

With venom in her voice, she snapped.

Woman: “Your store sold this filth to my son!”

Me: *Already exhausted.* “Store policy states we cannot sell M-rated games to anyone under eighteen without parental consent.”

Woman: “Well, your store sold this to my son, and it changed him!”

Me: “Changed him? How?”

Woman: “He used to be such a sweet boy, and now he’s calling me all sorts of nasty things, things I won’t repeat because, as a Christian woman, I shouldn’t have to say that kind of language.”

Me: “Okay… so, do you want a cash return or store credit? If you want cash, I’ll need a receipt.”

Woman: “I don’t want anything! I just want you to take it back!”

Me: “Ma’am, we do inventory every Friday. If we suddenly have an extra copy that doesn’t match our records, it throws up red flags. I need to offer you something in exchange—another game, store credit, or cash with a receipt.”

She stared at me.

Woman: “I want whoever sold this to my son, reprimanded.”

Me: “That’s not my job, ma’am.”

Woman: “I want it done.”

Me: “Fine. For my benefit, can you describe your son?”

Woman: “He never leaves the house without a red ball cap.”

Me: “It’s a black-and-white camera system, so… anything else?”

Woman: “He’s about 6’4” and weighs around 230 or 240 pounds.”

In my head, I thought, Okay, maybe a high school football player. A coworker might have misjudged him as an adult.

Me: “Anything else?”

Woman: “He has a tattoo on his right forearm.”

Still possible for a high schooler, I thought.

Then, she locked eyes with me and said:

Woman: “He’s thirty-five years old.”

I set the game down, looked her in the eyes, and said:

Me: “So you’re telling me your thirty-five-year-old son, who can legally buy this game because he’s an adult, came to this store, bought it, and now you want to return it because you don’t like that he bought it?”

She nodded.

That was the moment I realized I had nothing left to say. I just walked away.