Minimum wage cashiers at grocery stores are usually the first target for disgruntled customers who want to complain and/or pin the blame on the never-ending cost-of-living crisis. It happens to me so much that I just casually ‘hmm’ through the one-sided conversation when I can.

You can also tell when customers are just… angry. Angry at the world and the only place they have left to vent (because they scared off everyone else) is their cashier, who can’t run away. I try to be sympathetic to such people… to a point.

Customer: “This same shopping list cost me a dollar less just last week! What gives?!”

Me: “I know, sir. The prices are going up, unfortunately.”

Customer: “But why?!”

Me: “Just general inflation, I suppose.”

Customer: “It’s because of all those immigrants!”

Sadly, this is another common conversational cul-de-sac some customers try with me. I’m one of the few White cashiers in the store, which in turn is in a neighborhood that is quite ethnically diverse. The occasional White customer sometimes assumes I’m on trend with their bigotry.

This is where I go into “hmm” or silence mode.

Me: “Hmm. How will you be paying today?”

Customer: “The immigrants are all coming here and forcing us to pay for their homes and healthcare! And just because some of them have kids, they think we have to help them! They shouldn’t have brought their kids over to become illegals with them! And then those kids go to our schools, and then those schools can’t say Happy Holidays because it’s 60% Muslim and—”

Me: “—Cash or card?”

Customer: “You don’t agree?! Do you have kids? You don’t worry about their future in this country? Going to school with immigrant kids?”

Me: “I don’t have kids. Cash or card?”

Customer: “So you don’t have any kids, but you’re still okay with your tax dollars going to getting someone else’s kids’ healthcare and education?!”

Me: “Yeah, I especially want them educated so that they’re capable of critical thinking skills and understanding that if regular US citizens can’t access free healthcare, then an illegal immigrant sure as h*** isn’t going to. Now… cash, or card?”

The customer paid, called me a communist for some reason, and walked out. I wonder who the news will tell them to hate for next week’s checkout rant?

On extra busy days, we sometimes assign some employees to close out the cashier lines to allow them to get out on time. I’m standing in line to close out a coworker for the night.  

A tiny old lady walks up and tries standing between the last person in line and me.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I’m closing up the line.”

Customer: *Pointing to the cashier.* “Well, he can close up after helping me.”

Me: “Well, no, the person in front of me is the last person. You’ll have to go to another lane.”

She just looks up at me with well-practised puppy dog eyes and says:

Customer: “Have a heart!”

Me: “I do have a heart… for my coworker. He needs to get home to his wife and kids.”

Her face scrunched up in anger, and she stormed off, swearing. I don’t think I’ll forget how quickly her attitude changed from little sweet old lady to angry, bitter curmudgeon.

Due to my family, I grew up speaking English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Tagalog. I’m learning Italian and Greek through my boyfriend and his heritage. From high school, I have conversational French. I know a few basic customer service phrases in about twenty languages.

Basically, I love languages! I’m the one who gets called if a coworker is struggling with a language barrier with a customer. I’m called over to a specific checkout lane.

Cashier: “Can you help me explain to this customer that the coupon isn’t valid?”

I look at the customer, and am initially confused. I remember seeing her walking into the store with her daughters, all talking loudly in English, and with the local area’s accent to boot.

Customer: “No hablo ingles.”

I fight the urge to cringe. This customer speaks Spanish like a first-grade language student. There’s no way this customer can speak Spanish. Likely, this is a scam where the customer pretends not to speak English and delays the line so much that the store just gives them the discount anyway to get them out of here. It is surprisingly common.

Anyhoo, benefit of the doubt and all that:

Me: *In Spanish.* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that coupon has expired, and we cannot accept it.”

The customer blinks for a second, and then tries:

Customer: “No… uh… e-span-y’all? I… uh… arrivederci?”

Yes, she really did just switch to saying goodbye in Italian.

Me: *In Italian.* “Oh, you speak Italian? Amazing. I’m sorry, ma’am, but that coupon has expired, and we cannot accept it.”

The customer blinks again, but she’s not giving up.

Customer: “No… uh… Auf Wiedersehen?”

Does this woman only know various forms of goodbyes in other languages? German isn’t a language I am fluent in, but I doubt she is either, and I know a couple of sentences.

Me: *In German.* “Ah! Deutsch! Okay! I fed the dog all my biscuits, and now I am sad as I have no biscuits.”

The customer sighs. One of her daughters pats her on the shoulder and speaks in English:

Customer’s Daughter: “Mom, I don’t think they’re going to take your coupon.”

Customer: *Angrily.* “Well, they would have if they hadn’t hired Mr. F****** Duolingo here!”

She paid, and they left. I was laughing in every language I knew for the rest of the day.

I am working the checkout line at Costco. A man reaches the front of my queue with a cart overflowing. I reach out my hand for his card.

Me: “Good afternoon! Could I see your membership card, please?”

Customer: “I don’t have one. Just ring me up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re a membership-only warehouse. I can’t open a transaction without scanning a valid card.”

Customer: *Voice rising immediately.* “Are you kidding me? I’m standing here with hundreds of dollars’ worth of stuff! You’re going to turn away money because I don’t have a piece of plastic?”

Me: “It’s our store policy, sir. It’s how we keep our prices low. If you’d like, you can head over to the membership desk and sign up right now.”

Customer: “I am sick of this! Everything is a membership or a subscription these days! I have to pay for Netflix, I have to pay for Amazon, I have to pay for my gym, and now you want me to pay for the ‘privilege’ of buying my own groceries? It’s a scam! It’s all a corporate scam!”

Me: “I understand the frustration, but it’s literally the business model of the store. How did you get past the greeter at the front door?”

Customer: “That doesn’t matter! This is America! I should be able to buy a f****** cheese without being on a government-style registry!”

A manager, hearing the shouting, walks over and tries to de-escalate.

Manager: “Is there a problem here, sir?”

Customer: “Yes! Your employee is refusing to take my money because I’m not a ‘member’ of your little cult! I just want my groceries!”

Manager: “Sir, the membership is what allows us to operate. Without it, we aren’t authorized to process the sale. It’s the same for everyone in this building.”

Customer: “Well, the customer is always right, and the customer says his money is green! Just hit the ‘skip’ button or whatever you do for people who aren’t sheep!”

Manager: “Sir, there is no ‘skip’ button for the foundational pillar of the store’s global business strategy.”

Customer: “Fine! Keep your stupid chicken! I’m going to the Walmart down the street where they don’t treat food like a VIP nightclub!”

He storms out, leaving the full cart behind. I look at my manager.

Me: “There’s a Walmart down the street?”

Manager: “Kinda. It’s a Sam’s Club.”

Me: “Walmart’s membership-only warehouse club?”

Manager: “Oh, to be a fly on THAT wall…”

I work at a chain grocery store, and it’s pretty much basic human decency to unload your baskets full of items and place them on the ground once you’re finished.

I had an older woman come in with two children, and right off the bat, she placed her basket onto the moving conveyor belt. I stop the belt so that she has a chance to unload her items.

She just stares at me, so I’m like, ‘okaaaay, her hands might be full, I can understand that.’ 

I start unloading the basket while also bagging her items. I don’t really have a place to put the basket, so I ask, politely:

Me: “Do you mind placing this on the floor?”

Customer: “No, you can do it yourself.”

At this point, I’m appalled because 99% of the time when I remind people, they apologize and do it. I’m about to go off and explain to her if she can pick up the basket, carry it around the store, and place the item on top of the conveyor belt, she can certainly place it on the floor. But one of the children who was with her picks it up and places it on the floor.

Customer: *Yelling at the child.* “No! Don’t do that!”

Why do customers treat employees in retail like we’re subhuman?