Over My Frozen Dead Body

(I’m working the register at a grocery store. While most other grocery stores usually have a roll of small, transparent plastic bags (sometimes referred to as freezer bags) at the end of the register, we do not. We do, however, keep some inside the store, so if a customer realizes that they need one, we usually tell them where they are and they can go back to get one. It’s not exactly a huge store, so it’s not a long walk. A middle-age woman comes to my register and I scan her groceries, including a pack of ice cream. As she’s paying:)

Customer: “Where are your freezer bags?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, but we actually don’t have any here by the register.”

Customer: “WHAT? How can you be allowed to sell ice cream and not have any freezer bags?”

Me: “I’m sorry. We do have some inside the store though, by the fruits and vegetables, so if you’d like you could-”

Customer: “You’re telling me to GO BACK INSIDE?! OVER MY DEAD BODY! Aren’t you supposed to get SOME service here?!”

Me: “I’m sorry.”

(I don’t offer to get her a bag myself as I cannot leave the register unattended, and she doesn’t ask for me to get one either, so by now I’m just trying to finish the transaction as quickly as possible so I can move on to the next customer.)

Me: “Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Of course! I’ll need it! You always get things wrong at this place, you know!” *leaves*

Me: *internally* “Well, if that’s the case, then why are you still shopping here?”