Not Much Going On Upstairs

, , , | Right | April 12, 2019

(I work at a big chain grocery store. Normally, I collect carts from the parking lot, but today, they are short staffed and I am “blessed” with the task of bagging groceries.)

Me: “Paper or plastic?”

Customer: “I want the things that go upstairs in plastic and the things that go downstairs in paper.”

Me: “Sure, we can do that.”

(The scanned items start coming down the belt. I am waiting for the customer to tell me what goes where when they decide to look up and see me not working.)

Customer: “Get moving. I don’t have all day.”

Me: “I need you to tell me which goes in each bag.”

Customer: “I have been coming here for years!”

Me: *confused* “And we appreciate your business.”

Customer: “I shouldn’t have to tell you people this every time I come in here.”

Me: *trying to be polite* “Well, I normally work outside and—“

Customer: *interrupts* “I don’t want excuses. JUST BAG MY GROCERIES!”

(I think the customer wants normal bagging now, so I start putting items into bags. The customer gets mad when they have to tell each time I put something in the wrong bag. After many insults, and screaming towards the end, they leave and the cashier grins at me.)

Cashier: “Well, you had to meet [Customer] sooner or later.”

Me: “They always like that?”

Cashier: “This was a good day. Smash the bread next time if you want to see a show. But be careful; [Manager] got pelted with a can of cat food once.”

(I found out that everyone knew [Customer] and had a similar story of yelling and thrown groceries. Cashiers would close lanes and baggers would take restroom breaks to avoid the customer.)

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