Six… Give Or Take Nine

, , , , , | Right | July 8, 2020

I’m an assistant manager at a supermarket. There are two others there, as well, and only two are needed at customer service, so I help out with bagging. The cashier is new and somewhat inexperienced. If a customer comes up with a bag of bread that they’ve selected themselves, we’re either supposed to count them if it’s a small number, or ask them how many there are, and if it looks reasonable, we take them at their word.

Cashier: “Hello! How are you, ma’am?”

Customer: “Fine, thanks.”

The cashier starts scanning items and comes to a bag of bread.

Cashier: “How many?”

Customer: “Six.”

The cashier puts six into the transaction, but with the bag as big as it is, I know there’s no way it could only contain six. I pull the clear bag out of the brown bag and quickly count them after she sends the bag down my way. I count fifteen.

Me: “[Cashier], it’s fifteen, not six.”

She turns to me because she didn’t hear, so I repeat it. The customer gives me a dirty look.

Customer: “That’s not right.”

Me: “There were fifteen breads; you said there were only six.”

Customer: “I know, but that’s not right.”

Me: “What’s not right?”

Customer: “You make it look like I’m trying to steal.”

Me: “Ma’am, she asked how many breads there were, and you deliberately said that there were a lot fewer than there actually are.”

Customer: “I don’t care. Get me your manager!”

My manager was nearby in the customer service area, so I went to get her. As I walked through the door and explained it to her, the customer barged through the door, like she was going to attack me or something. The owner, a huge, over-six-feet-tall bald man, grabbed her and pinned her to the ground while I called the police. She ranted and raved, but since we had the security footage, she was escorted out by the cops.

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