Name A Worse Customer

(I’ve just opened my register when a customer walks up with some cookies and other items.)

Me: “Hi, how are you? Do you have a [Store] card?”

Customer: “Yes, and some coupons. Hold on.”

(As she goes through her purse, I start ringing up her items.)

Customer: *looking at my name tag* “Your name is [My Name], huh? Funny way of spelling it.”

(My name is not an uncommon Irish name, and it happens to have the most oft-used spelling. I am multiracial, though, with more of my other ancestry prominent than my name would suggest.)

Me: “Ah, yup, that’s my name.”

Customer: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “Oh… Sorry, I don’t give that out.”

Customer: *huffy* “Well, I was only asking.”

(My coworker is signaling me for assistance in her transaction, but I sense that my customer won’t like me walking away from her, so I decide to finish her transaction first. My cashier and her customer, therefore, hear the rest of the increasingly bizarre conversation.)

Customer: “Do you know what my name is?”

Me: “Uh… No, can’t say I do. Sorry?”

Customer: “Oh, you’ll know it. Do you want to know why?”

Me: “Um, okay, sure.”

Customer: *a moment of silence* “That’s why.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: *abruptly* “Where do you want to go?”

Me: “Go? I don’t follow.”

Customer: “What jail would you like to go to?”

Me: “Uh, no jail, actually, thanks?”

Customer: “Oh, well, I was just giving you a choice. Because that is not your name. That cannot be your name. Just you wait; you’ll be hearing from the authorities later today!” *storms out*

(I walk over to my coworker and her customer, a regular.)

Me: “Sorry for the wait.”

Coworker: “What was that?”

Me: “Apparently, my name wasn’t foreign enough for her? Really glad I didn’t give her my last name now!”