(I work at a large retail fabric and craft store. I am working register today. All available employees are at registers, except for two girls who are working at the cutting counter with their own long line. An older lady in line has been loudly clearing her throat and moaning the whole time she’s been in line. I’ve offered to let her sit until it’s her turn, thinking that she may be hurting. She turns her nose up at me and doesn’t say anything. She continues making noises the whole time. It just so happens she gets routed to my register.)

Me: “Hello! Did you find everything you needed today?”

Customer: “I did, no thanks to any of you.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. We usually have people on the floor, but with how busy it is they’re not always out. You can always ask at customer service, and they can try to direct you, just for future reference.”

Customer: *huffs* “Yes. I can tell you’re all working so hard.”

(It’s obvious she’s being sarcastic, but I say:)

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “And another thing! Why didn’t you call anyone else up to help at registers? You usually do that. I was trying to tell you that.”

(Apparently, that was what her noises meant.)

Me: “I’m sorry. We actually have everyone available at registers right now.”

Customer: “No, you don’t!”

Me: “We only have six workers today, and it has been unusually busy. I’m sorry for your wait.”

(She huffs again and rolls her eyes.)

Customer: “You’re obviously new, so I’ll explain. Go on your radio and call those two—” *points to the cutting counter* “—to come over here on register.”

Me: “Oh. They can’t actually come over, as they have their own line to worry about. We need them at cutting counter.”

(The customer just huffs again loudly and shakes her head. I finish ringing her out and she’s about to go on her way. Then she turns to the employee on the other register, who’s been here a long while.)

Customer: “Honestly! These young people have no sense these days. Tell your manager this one needs more training!”

(The other employee did end up reporting me without asking what happened. I explained to my manager, but she said I still should have told her about the complaint. I had to rewatch all the training videos, despite the fact that everyone said I did nothing wrong.)

(I work tech support in the US. I have a slight accent, but was raised in the US and have a degree from a US university.)

Me: “Good morning. [Company] technical support. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Are you in the US?”

Me: “Excuse me? We are a US company.”

Caller: “Yeah, but are you one of those Indian vendors? You are, aren’t you? I can tell you have an accent.”

(For the record, my accent is French.)

Me: “Ma’am, we are a US company, no subcontractors. I assure you I am working from the US.”

Caller: “Bulls***! This is why our country is going to Hell: because greedy little f***s like you are stealing all the American jobs. You aren’t even competent! You haven’t helped at all!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, perhaps if you would tell me what your problem is, I could help you.”

(The call degenerates from here, and she demands to speak to my manager… who is full-blood Navajo and also speaks with a slight accent.)

Manager: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

(I only heard screaming from the phone, obscenities, and yelling that he was not American. He hung up after getting documentation of her racist tirade.)

This story is part of our Native-American roundup.

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(I grew up in Maine but recently moved to Wisconsin. I’m waiting on a table.)

Customer: “Your accent is interesting. Where are you from?”

Me: “New England.”

Customer: “Oh, like London? Did you ever get to see the queen?!”

Me: “Um, no. New England. Specifically Maine.”

Customer: “I had no idea Maine was in Britain.”

Me: “It’s…” *sigh* “I’ll go get your drinks.”

(They were in their fifties.)

(My parents and I are on vacation in Mexico. We go to a local supermarket to get some groceries, and also to get back a deposit on a ten-liter jug of water my mom bought the week before I arrived. My mom drags me over to the desk to help with translations, as she doesn’t understand or speak Spanish at all.)

Mom: *returns jug to customer service cashier, speaking in English* “I’m here to collect my deposit on this jug.”

(I translate roughly.)

Cashier: *in Spanish* “There is no deposit on water. You don’t even need to return this jug.”

(I’m struggling with translating as we go.)

Mom: “What? But when I bought this jug of water, the man who sold it to me assured me there was a deposit that I could get back if I returned the jug!”

Cashier: “I don’t know who you talked to, but we don’t charge a deposit on water. If you wish to leave the jug with us, we’ll take it, but there’s no deposit to be returned.”

Mom: “Then tell me why I was charged 40 pesos for this water on top of what I paid!”

Cashier: “There is no deposit on water. You can’t have been charged 40 pesos for a deposit. The water is only about 20 pesos. That doesn’t make sense.”

Mom: “No, I know I paid that deposit! I looked at the receipt carefully. The man told me there was a deposit, and I want that deposit back now that I’ve returned the jug!”

Cashier: “We don’t charge deposit on water jugs here. I’m sorry, but we never have.”

(This goes on for a while. Finally, I just want to end it.)

Me: “Mom, can you just show her the receipt? Just to prove that you paid that deposit.”

(Mom fishes it out and gives it to me.)

Mom: “See?! There. Show her. It’s the second line item. Under the line item for the water!”

(I look at the receipt. At the top, it says, “[Brand] agua, 10L — 26 pesos,” and then the next line, “Aguacate – especiale — 40 pesos.” I lean over to show it to the cashier, and as I do, I remember what ‘aguacate’ means.)

Me: “Um, Mom? That says, ‘aguacate.’”

Mom: “Right! ‘Agua’ means water! I know that much. ‘Especiale’ means special! Special price for the deposit!”

Me: *feeling a headache coming on* “No, Mom. ‘Aguacate’ means ‘avocado.’ Did you buy a bunch of avocados when you shopped here last week? And were they on sale?”

Mom: “I…!” *she pauses* “Oh, yeah! So, ‘aguacate’ doesn’t have anything to do with that water?”

Me: “No.” *turns to the cashier* “Lo siento!” *I’m sorry.* “Muy, muy… Um… lo siento.”

(I walked away, leaving my mother there to sputter her own apologies to the tightly-smiling cashier.)

(It’s the day before Thanksgiving and I’m stocking the baking aisle, which has been largely cleaned out at this point, much to the frustration and anger of many last-minute shoppers.)

Customer: “Excuse me. Do you have any [Brand] chocolate fudge icing?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that particular icing is out of stock. People have been asking for it and we’ve already checked out back; there’s none in the store. I’m sorry.” *braces for angry response*

Customer: *sigh* “I guess that’s what I get for waiting until the last minute. You have a lovely Thanksgiving!” *walks off*

(I stood there dumbfounded. I was beginning to doubt there was such a thing as a polite last-minute shopper.)

This story is part of the Thanksgiving 2022 roundup!

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