How Do You Like Dem Apples?

I’m working the checkout. A customer has placed a loose bag of apples on the checkout belt, and I’m looking for the product number.

Customer: “Oh my god, seriously? Those are apples! This is what happens when you kids only eat processed junk.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I know they’re apples, but we have different codes for Gala, Fuji, Honeycrisp, Golden Delicious, Red Delicious, Pink Lady, Granny Sm—”

Customer: “—Okay, fine, I get it. Lotsa apples.”

Me: “Quite. You got a bag of Braeburns here, so I was just looking at the code to get it right.”

Customer: *Scoffs.* “Those are Pacific Rose!”

Me: “I’m afraid these are Braeburns. The label on them says so, but also, we cashiers are trained to tell the difference.”

I show her the small label on the apple, with a ‘BR’ code indicating ‘Braeburn.’

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t stock them so close to each other, then!”

Me: “Did you want me to put these aside for you?”

Customer: “Obviously!”

I place the bag of apples aside and continue scanning her items.

Customer: “Uh, aren’t you going to go get me my Pacific Roses?”

Me: “I can’t leave the checkout, ma’am, but I can ask someone else to get them for you.” 

I do so and I finish scanning the rest of her items in silence. A coworker runs over with a bag of the same number of apples, this time Pacific Rose.

Coworker: “Got the apples! I love Pacific Rose! They taste and look so distinct!”

I was afraid the customer’s card payment would be interrupted from the intensity of her glares.