(We have the card readers that you can tap your card on, or use a peer-to-peer payment app from your smartphone.)

Customer: *noticing card reader* “Oh! Does [Payment App] work on this?”

Me: “It works most of the time.”

Customer: *successfully uses card reader* “Ooooh! That was amazing. It gave me the tingles. Was it good for you?”

Me: *moves back from counter* “Thanks for coming in. Have a great day.”

(I work in a small store with a pharmacy in the back. As a veteran employee, my store manager occasionally leaves me in charge while she runs short errands. It’s just before lunch time, and the store is dead, so my manager leaves to get decorating supplies for the summer season. A little while later, a woman comes limping in with a companion, and comes straight up to the front desk where I am. Note that our store is in an area with a BIG shoplifting problem, where other stores have had to shut down just from the theft alone.)

Me: “Hello! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I want to return these.”

(She pulls two identical pairs of brand-new over-the-counter reading glasses out of her purse, which retail at $25 each, our most expensive variety.)

Me: “All right, do you have your receipt?”

Customer: *glares at me* “No! I bought these just last month! When I put them on I started seeing double and fell down the stairs! I have been in the hospital for three weeks with a broken foot! The doctor told me the glasses made me develop a condition called ‘Depth Perception!’ I could have died! You should be ashamed of yourself for selling faulty glasses like that!”

(She begins leaning on her companion for physical support and moaning in pain.)

Me: *struggling to not make a face at the customer’s “diagnosis”* “I see, ma’am. Let me get a scanner and look at your purchase.”

(I bring over an internal scanning unit and check the UPC number on the glasses. Not only have we not sold any for the last six weeks, but we don’t carry this particular type of glasses. However, the store down the road does. I excuse myself, saying I need to verify the current price of the glasses for the customer, and walk back to the pharmacy so I’m out of earshot. I call [Neighbor Store], which is two miles away, and they confirm they are missing several pairs of these glasses. Since my manager is out of the store, I make a judgement call and return to the front. All of this has taken five minutes. When I get back, the customer has dragged a chair over from our photo department and sat down at my register.)

Customer: “Well, finally! We’ve been waiting forever!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am. Unfortunately, it looks like we don’t carry this item. You will have to return them to the store you purchased them from.”

Customer: “I got them at [Neighbor Store]. Your company policy says I can return them anywhere!”

(The customer moans in pain, rubbing her upper calf. I notice this is the opposite foot from the one she indicated when she came in the store.)

Me: “Yes, ma’am. That’s true for the items carried by all our stores. For items carried by select stores, those items must be returned to a store that carries the merchandise, so they can either resell the items or receive credit from the vendor. If I accept this refund, we can neither sell the item, nor return it for credit, as it’s not recognized by our system.”

Customer: “I can’t go all the way down there! I have a broken foot! I can’t even drive right now! My neighbor brought me here and we don’t have the gas to get to the other store!”

(As she says this, she’s groaning in “distress.”)

Me: “I really am sorry, ma’am. Even if I could return these glasses, without a receipt, I would have to give you store credit, and I don’t have access to the cards to do that at the moment.”

Customer: *suddenly livid, no longer faking an injury* “WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER?! I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

Me: “She stepped out of the store for a few minutes, but she should be back shortly. Would you like to wait outside for her? You can leave the glasses here, if you like; that way, if she can override the refund, we can do it without you even getting out of the car again.”

(At this point, I’m just stalling for time. I know there’s no way in heck my manager is refunding these. The customer obviously thinks she’s going to win the argument when the manager returns.)

Customer: “Fine! I’ll leave them here. Make sure no one takes them. I’m already going to sue you guys for my hospital bills.”

(She hobbles out of the store in a very exaggerated fashion, leaning on her neighbor. I move the glasses behind the counter where the customer will not be able to reach them. About ten minutes later, my manager comes back. The customer ambushes my manager while she’s still on the sidewalk.)

Customer: “You! You need to fire that worthless cashier! She won’t refund my glasses!”

(She gives her entire explanation again, including the doctor diagnosing her with “Depth Perception.”)

Manager: “Did you forget that I filed a criminal trespass against you for shoplifting? You aren’t allowed to be anywhere on the property, including the parking lot. Go away, or I’m having you arrested.”

Customer: “BUT SHE STILL HAS MY GLASSES! GIVE THEM BACK TO ME OR I’LL SUE YOU INTO THE POOR HOUSE!”

Manager: “You mean the glasses that [Neighbor Store] has you on camera shoving in your purse before walking out the front door? No. We’ll be keeping those as evidence. I look forward to seeing you at the trial.”

(The customer keeps trying to argue, so my manager takes out her cell phone and dials the police, showing the customer the screen. The customer then takes off RUNNING and gets into her car, speeding out of the parking lot. The manager comes back into the store.)

Me: “How did you know she stole them? I just had a suspicion. I was waiting for you to come back and shut her down.”

Manager: “She came in last week, and the week before, with the exact same story. It was literally word for word what she just told me now. Plus, she’s been going around to three of our stores in a ten-mile area and doing the same thing.”

Me: “You know, if she’d bothered to look up an actual medical condition, I might have believed her. I mean, almost everyone has depth perception. It’s why we have two eyeballs!”

Manager: “Well, you can’t accuse her of a lack of creativity. Most people just claim the stolen goods were something their ‘grandma bought and no longer needs.'”

(This was over three years ago, and we still laugh about it. The customer was later arrested and found guilty of felony theft. Apparently, she didn’t learn her lesson and kept at it until someone caught her again.)

(I’m pushing a metal cart around when suddenly I hear a customer start yelling.)

Customer: “GUN! GUN!”

(I quickly stop and look around, along with many other customers whose looks range from confused to panicked. Then, a customer walks up to me with my scanner in his hand.)

Customer: “Your scan gun fell off; I yelled so you could hear me over the noise of your cart.”

Me: *after a moment of regaining my composure* “Uh, thanks, but do you think next time you could do something other than yell, ‘Gun!’ in a crowded store?”

Customer: “Oh… Oh, dear. That wasn’t the smartest thing, huh?”

Me: “I’d certainly say not, no.”

(As my three other coworkers are drying cars off outside, an older man and a boy around five years old walk up to our blow dryers inside and look in. After finishing up the car we are drying, I approach them to see if they need anything.)

Older Man: “See? That’s what the dryers look like.”

Young Boy: “Th-that… is so… coo-cool!”

(They both see me coming over.)

Older Man: “Hello there, young lady! My grandson would like to know what the dryers feel like. Can he go in there for a moment?”

(I glance at the child, who is bouncing up and down at the moment, and it is obvious to me now that he has some sort of disorder.)

Me: “I wouldn’t recommend it; those dryers are extremely powerful and loud. Especially with cars coming through, it’s very dangerous to be in there right now. You can stand out here and observe, but don’t go in, please.”

(At this point, another car has arrived at the outside drying station, so I run back to help. As the car pulls away, the blow dryers turn on for the next car. All of a sudden, a loud scream is heard. We all glance over to see the boy standing in the middle of the dryers, clutching his hands to his ears and screaming. He isn’t moving out of the way of an approaching truck. I sprint over, pick him up, and get him outside. The grandpa appears from around the corner.)

Older Man: “DON’T TOUCH MY GRANDCHILD! What do you think you’re doing?!”

(I immediately put the boy out of harm’s way and back off, just as the giant truck comes out.)

Me: “He was standing in the middle of the dryers! Why didn’t you stop him?”

Older Man: “I let him go in there while I grabbed my phone out of my car!”

Me: “You let him? Even though I just got done telling you how dangerous that is?!”

Older Man: “It’s not dangerous; it’s just a large hair dryer, duh. I should be asking you what gave you the right to pick him up!”

Me: “Sir, those dryers are meant for cars, not people. It’s more similar to an airplane engine than a hair dryer. Besides, your grandson was about to be run over and sucked into the conveyor belt below. And he was screaming and crying from the noise, as well.”

Older Man: “No, you were assaulting him! I will sue you for this!”

Me: “…”

(My parents and I stop by a fast food restaurant. After placing an order and paying for it at the window, my dad makes a comment to my mom about the worker’s dull attitude, and my mom tells him he should try to make her smile.)

Worker: *with a melancholy expression* “Here’s your food, sir.”

Dad: *as he takes the food* “My wife here told me she’d give me $100 dollars if I could make you smile, so how’s about we split it between you and me?”

(A huge, if somewhat embarrassed, smile flashed across her face, and it was a very pretty one, too! I thought it was adorable, and I hope it made her seemingly bad day a little better.)