Our hobby store is in the process of moving locations, and during the last week at our current store, I have multiple variations of this conversation:

Customer: “So, you guys are going out of business?”

Me: “Not at all; we are just moving locations.”

Customer: “Well, it says on Facebook that you guys are going out of business.”

Me: “There are always stories rotating around that we are going out of business, but I can assure you that we are just moving locations.”

Customer: “But a lot of your shelves are empty.”

Me: “That’s because we are moving locations and only plan on being closed on Sunday like we normally are. When we close here Saturday evening, we will be transferring all the remaining inventory to the new store and setting up the new store to open Monday morning. Because of this ,we did not receive a truck of merchandise at this location last week or this week, as it instead went to the new store in order for the transition to go as smoothly as possible.”

Customer: “So, you guys are closing down?”

Me: “Only this location; we will immediately open a new store the following business day.”

Customer: “But everything in the store seems to be 50% off; how can everything be 50% off if you guys are not closing down?”

Me: “That’s our normal sale; every week we have a different selection of stuff that is 50% off, and every week it is roughly half the store but it is different from week to week.”

Customer: “Huh, well, okay, then. I guess I should come here more often.”

Me: “Yes, well, have a nice day!”

Next Customer: “So, I read on Facebook that you are going out of business. That’s so sad; I love this store!”

I’m a cashier at a large grocery store. A woman starts loading her groceries on the end of the belt and I’m watching her, waiting for the items to roll down the belt so I can reach them.

Customer: “Oh, wow, you have very pretty eyes.”

Me: “Oh, thank you!”

Customer: “What color are they?”

I hesitate for a moment.

Me: “They’re blue-ish.”

Customer: “They look green.”

Me: “No, ma’am. They’re definitely blue, but sometimes they look more grey.”

Customer: “Oh, you have those kinds of eyes that like change color sometimes?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “My niece has eyes like that. The ones that change colors. Scares the daylights out of me. I think she’s possessed. I hate her eyes.”

Me: “Oh.”

I quickly changed the subject back to her groceries in order to hide my surprise.

Years ago, my grandfather owned a number of convenience stores. He hired and fired all kinds of crazy cashiers; the ones that stuck around for years might have been the craziest, but they were reliable. Every summer for years, I would be one of those cashiers; from the ages of fourteen to twenty, there I was every summer. 

Since he usually had regular turnover, it wasn’t hard for him to find me a shift to work, but one year he was fully staffed; he was just miffed by one employee. 

This one girl was great at all the assignments — stocking, cleaning, maintenance — but my grandfather noticed that he was going through a lot of rolls of dimes and pennies, and usually on her shifts. So, he decided to sort of watch her one day. It wasn’t until someone was owed $0.97 in change that he put it together.

Sure enough, this cashier gave the guy nine dimes and seven pennies as change. 

He tried to teach her, but it didn’t stick. 

Needless to say, he still found an opening for me that summer.

My supervisor is talking with a very irate customer about how her mother was treated when she came into the store.

Customer: “I need to speak to your general manager!”

Supervisor: “Could you tell me what the problem is first?”

Customer: “Your general manager chased my elderly mother off your bench last night and told her to never come back. I don’t appreciate the way she’s been treated!”

Supervisor: “Well, ma’am, we don’t have a general manager. This is a locally-owned store. Are you sure it was here?”

Customer: “I’m positive! That man was rude!”

Supervisor: “Ma’am, I’m positive it wasn’t here. We don’t even have a bench outside.”

Customer: “Oh… Well, let me go call her.”

The woman later came back and said my supervisor was correct. Her mother was not in our store or even this town. No apology, either.

Customer: “Excuse me, how many bags of mulch do I need to cover my yard?”

Me: “Well, how big is your yard?”

Customer: “Oh, I don’t know. Big? Kind of huge-ish?”

Me: “Okay. Well, do you happen to have the area or anything? We sell mulch in cubic feet, so—”

Customer: “What? You expect me to do math?! That’s ridiculous! I don’t do any of that math crap; it’s too hard!”