It is around April. A couple comes in with their two kids in strollers. I’m showing them the TV’s, when the mom asks me:

Customer: “Where’s your Father’s Day ad? I want to see what sales you have for Father’s Day.”

Me: “We don’t have them yet.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Me: “It’s April. Father’s Day is in June.”

Customer: “You seriously don’t have any ads?!”

Me: “No, it’s too early.”

Customer: “For real?!”

Me: “Ma’an, for real. Mother’s Day is next month, so why would we have ads for Father’s Day before Mother’s Day has even happened?”

Finally, after telling her multiple times, we get back on the TV topic. We find a TV they like, but we only have the display, so I say:

Me: “This is our last one. If you like, I can see what I can sell it for as a display discount.”

They oblige, and I head up front to check it out. Unfortunately, it only drops a couple of dollars.

Me: “I’m sorry, it’s only a couple of dollars drop in price.”

Customer: “That’s illegal.”

Me: “What’s Illegal?”

Customer: “If it’s open like that, you need to sell it for far less!”

Me: “No, ma’am. The company could even sell it for hundreds more if they liked. The only thing we’re not allowed to do is go below the margin price. We can sell anyone anything for as much as they are willing to pay.”

She gets mad and walks to the front to see my sales manager and asks for a better salesman. I go back to chatting with my boss, and I can hear her in the back near the TVs with another salesman:

Customer: “No, that’s illegal!”

After this goes on for long enough, my sales manager intervenes.

Sales Manager: “Ma’am, you will not be getting any discounts or mythological sale prices on any TVs today. Your choices are display prices or the exit.”

Customer: “This is illegal and unfair! Mother’s Day ads are just for clothes and beauty products! The Dads get the TVs, and I don’t want to wait until June!”

Sales Manager: “You can email the complaint to this email address to discuss the inequalities in the holiday ads, but there’s nothing my sales staff can do for you today.”

Customer: “Do I get a discount if I threaten to sue you all for discrimination?”

Sales Manager: “No, but we then discount you as a customer and refer you to our legal team. Exit that way. Bye!”

She starts trying to argue again, but her husband pats her on the shoulder.

Customer’s Husband: “Honey, you tried. It’s getting embarrassing now. I’m taking the kids to get ice cream. Please come with us and stop… whatever this is.”

She glared at us all the way to the exit. It’s a shame that her behavior got rewarded with ice cream.

In my local discount general goods store, you pay at a really long counter where two or three registers are set up next to each other. How many registers are open depends on how busy it is.

Next to this counter on the customer side is barely enough space for two shopping carts to pass each other, so naturally, customers all line up in a single row behind the register, farther away from the entrance. This leaves enough space for people to get to the back of the line or browse the displays on the other side of the aisle, or move away from the second register past the first towards the exit once they’ve paid.

I am the first customer in line (behind register #2) when a woman shows up to check out and goes to stand next to the customer being served at register #1. The cashier points her towards the actual end of the line.

Customer #1: “I don’t get it. This register is open, right?”

Customer #2: *From behind me.* “You need to get in line at the back.”

Customer #1: “I don’t get it. This is a second register. It’s open.”

Customer #2: “Yeah, and you can line up for it back there.”

Customer #1: “I don’t get it.”

Me: “There isn’t enough space for two parallel lines, so there is just one. Whenever a spot opens up at either register, the next customer can get checked out.”

Customer #1: *Brief pause.* “I don’t get it.”

Customer #2: “That’s clearly a you problem, since everyone else seems to get it. Move to the back of the line, you’re holding everyone up.”

[Customer #1] does so, grumbling about the second register and how she still doesn’t get it.

Customer #2: “That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. You just have to do it.”

I work at a membership-based wholesale grocery store that often has samples of featured products being offered.

I’m walking up to a coworker who is giving out samples of a chocolate brownie pack we’re promoting. I’m about to relieve her, but I hold back a moment while she talks to a customer in a stern tone:

Coworker: “Sir, I was able to suspend disbelief for a moment when you came back for a second sample as your identically-dressed twin, but now you’ve been a triplet, and worn multiple hats that I know you’ve just grabbed from the clothing section. In fact, I can still see the price label dangling off the cap you’re wearing right now. It stopped being a sample about five samples ago. You either need to buy the brownies to enjoy more, or stop coming here.”

Customer: “How am I supposed to know I really like ’em unless I really sample ’em!”

Coworker: “Sir, I’ve never said anything with more certainty than I’m saying right now, but you really like ’em.”

The customer grumbles but walks away. I then step up to my coworker.

Me: “Someone I should be on the lookout for?”

Coworker: “He’s had, like, nine of the brownies. He even tried to be triplets called Terry, Tim, and Tommy. I don’t think he was thinking it through as his brain is probably half brownie at this point.”

We both laugh, and I take over the sample station. Literally less than five minutes later, the same customer sees that there is a new worker at this station, smiles, walks over, and I swear he licks his lips.

Customer: “Oh, what you got here? Are these brownies?”

Me: “Yes, but they’re not for anyone named Terry, Tim, or Tommy.”

He walks away forlorn.

A large pickup pulls up into our parking lot. I see a full family start unloading a tired-looking old sofa from the back, and my coworker and I both sigh.

Coworker: “That’s gonna be a return.”

Me: “It looks ancient.”

Coworker: “You know it doesn’t matter.”

We both sigh again, because we know that due to cowardly managers and a stupid corporate policy that states as long as the customer has a receipt, any item can be returned for any reason, after any length of time.

That is why I am presented with a five-piece sectional sofa (complete with various stains and holes in the fabric) and an eleven-year-old receipt.

Me: “What is the reason for the return?”

Customer: “I don’t like how it feels when I sit on it.”

Me: “It took eleven years to figure that out?”

Customer: “…I was being thorough.”

Sigh…

I was a server years ago, and this woman (usually a pretty nice lady) came in. Apparently, we had messed up her salmon a few days earlier, so the manager had given her a free meal card, which is good for one single meal.

A few days later, she comes back with at least fifteen people, about an hour before closing. They all order seafood, steak, and wine. Her entire party is awful to my friend, who is another server, and me.

One guest even throws his plate on the ground, breaking it and throwing food everywhere, because his steak is overcooked. 

After all of this, the other server goes to bring the woman her check. It’s a couple hundred dollars.

She whips out the free meal card. The server takes it to the register, comps one meal, and comes back with the new total. The woman loses it.

Customer: “I have a free meal card! This was one meal for all of us! It should be free!”

The server stiffens up and politely explains.

Server: “That isn’t how it works. It’s for one meal. You had to have known you couldn’t bring fifteen people in here and expect everyone to eat for free.”

The woman stands up and pours her red wine all over my friend.

My Friend: “WHAT THE F***?!”

She’s about to run back to get the manager, but he’s already running over due to the commotion.

Manager: “Get the h*** out and never come back.”

Customer: “I have a free meal—”

Manager: “—get the h*** out! No one does that to my staff! No one! Get out! The rest of your party will stay and pay, but you will get the f*** out!”

The customer cursed some more but started to make for the exit. That’s when the rest of her group, half looking angry, half looking embarrassed, start commenting about how they weren’t expecting to pay, how they were told it would be a free meal, and now they’re seriously regretting ordering all that steak.

Manager: “You’re all paying for your meals, or you’ll be leaving like your friend, but unlike her, it’ll be with the police.”

They all paid. No one tipped.