Checkout Girl Has Checked Out

, , , , , , | Working | March 31, 2020

(I am 17. I got myself a part-time job, with a shiny new bank account and debit card to go with it, a few months ago. I am only working about four to six hours on a weekend and the pay is low, but as I’ve never had my own money before I fully embrace the opportunity to go shopping whenever I can, so my new bank account doesn’t have much in it! I want a new top and my mum, knowing I’ve pretty much spent my last week’s pay, lends me £20 to get something. I trot off into town early and find a top I like, but it is £5 over budget. No problem, I think; I’ve had people pay with card and cash in my shop before, so I’ll just do that. I go to the checkout. It’s not busy in the shop so there’s no queue, and the girl behind the till is about my age and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her there before. She rings up the top and tells me the total, £25.)

Me: “Can I pay £20 cash and the rest card, please?”

(The checkout girl repeats the total.)

Me: “Yeah, I’d like to pay £20 in cash, and the rest with my card.”

(The checkout girl looks at me like I’m crazy. I wait patiently, holding the note and my card.)

Checkout Girl: “I don’t know how to do that.”

(I look at her expectantly, thinking she’ll go and get someone who does. She does nothing, still staring at me.)

Me: “Well, can you find someone who does?”

(The checkout girl spun around, huffed and tutted, and stomped away like it was the biggest inconvenience EVER. I stood there in disbelief. Finally, another member of staff appeared, took my money out of my hand, rang through the transaction, and got me to swipe my debit card, all without a single word to me. She then dropped a bag on top of my purchase, leaving me to put the — not even folded — top into the bag myself, and flounced off. I may have only been 17, but I loved my retail job and took great pride in my customer service so I found my treatment there somewhat shocking, and I have not shopped there since!)

What A Pain In The Buns

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 31, 2020

Last night, at the local grocery, I accidentally grabbed the wrong hamburger buns. I waited roughly three feet from a self-check machine to clear an exchange with the attendant.

The woman checking out on that machine looked back at me a few times. When she finished, she deliberately took a huge step backward, coming very close to my cart. She shot me a disgusted look, grabbed her kids, and snottily said, “Come on! Some people are too close!”

I was briefly stunned, but I’m not the kind of person who lets things like that go. If she wants to publicly shame, she will be publicly shamed. I raised my voice so she would hear, “You can’t step into someone three feet away and then complain they’re too close.”

The couple at the next scanner said, “What?” So, I explained what she had done. They rolled their eyes and loudly said, “Some people!”

The offender left hurriedly, very red-faced.

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There’s No Contact But We Can Still Find You

, , , , | Right | March 31, 2020

(I’m a front side service member, meaning I do everything from cleaning to taking orders to checking out customers. This happened a year or so ago, when contactless payments or card “tapping” started to become more commonplace.

A customer comes up to the till.)

Me: “Afternoon, sir! Enjoyed the meal?”

Customer: “I did, actually. Here, my ticket.”

Me: “Thanks. All right, we had [order]. That’s a grand total of [price].”

Customer: “Debit card, please.”

(The customer starts tapping his card to the side of the terminal.)

Me: “Oh, I’m afraid the tapping feature is disabled. Our register system isn’t set up to accept those yet.”

Customer: “What do you mean? This is a contactless card, and the terminal says I can pay contactless.”

Me: “True, it does say that. But all that means is that the terminal could, in theory, assuming the register is set up. Ours isn’t, so you’ll have to insert the card.”

Customer: “No! I can and I will pay contactless!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but that’s not possible at this time. We’ve tried to get it online, but it broke down right after. Just insert your card, please, and we can pay it the old-fashioned way.”

Customer: “No! This is ridiculous! I should be able to pay however I want!”

(The customer left without paying. Since he was a lot bigger than I am, and I had a line of customers to deal with, I didn’t stop him. Instead, I noted down his license plate, checked with the manager if the cameras were running, and sent the bill to his home address… paired with a lovely dine and dash fine.)

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“A Waste Of Oxygen” Is Our New Phrase

, , , | Right | March 28, 2020

(I am walking by the registers when I decide to cut through a closed register instead of continuing down the row. A woman in line must think I am opening a register because she follows me. When I keep walking, she drops her canned goods on the belt and clears her throat loudly. I turn, surprised.)

Me: “Hello.”

Customer: “Well?”

Me: “Uh…?”

Customer: “Are you going to check me out or just stand there?”

Me: *looking around* “I was just walking through.”

Customer: “Lazy! Ring me up right now!” *slaps the belt* “Now! Now!”

Me: “Okay!”

Customer: “I don’t want my receipt printed or emailed or anything. Waste of paper! Who returns food?”

Me: “Okay.”

(While I’m scanning her groceries, another customer approaches.)

Customer #2: “Uh, are you open? Your light isn’t on.”

Me: “No, sorry, I—”

Customer: “Yes, she is! She’s just lazy!”

(The other customer looks at me, I shake my head, and he goes to a register where the light is on.)

Customer: “Asking if you’re open. He’s gotta check out. Of course, you’re open!”

Me: *ignoring her ranting* “Okay, your total is—”

Customer: “You don’t have to treat me like a [ableist slur]!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Cash or card?”

Customer: “Card!”

(The transaction finishes and my register resets. Before the woman can say anything else, I walk away. The other customer who came up earlier stops me. Still, the woman calls after me.)

Customer: “Hey! Where’s my receipt? How am I gonna get out the door without a receipt? If they stop me, I’m telling on you!”

Customer #2: *to me* “What an incredible waste of oxygen that woman is.”

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She’s Not Very Five Alive

, , , , , | Right | March 28, 2020

(A customer approaches my register, sets a single frozen meal down, and tells me she has six total. I hit the quantity button and scan it, and the transaction completes as normal. She stands aside and studies her receipt, and then approaches me again while I’m ringing out other customers.)

Customer: “Excuse me, how many did you ring me up for?”

Me: “Six.”

Customer: “I only have five here.”

Me: “Sorry, but you did tell me you had six.”

Customer: “I thought so, but I only have five now. Where did the other one go?”

Me: “I handed the one I scanned back to you.”

(She starts peering all around behind my counter as if I had hidden it back there, and then she goes back to her cart and I hear her slowly count her TV dinners, sorting them into stacks, turning them over and recounting them.)

Customer: “Two… and two… and one…” *looking back at me* “That’s five, isn’t it?”

Me: *internally face-palming* “It appears so. You can grab another one, since you paid for six, or we can refund you for the extra one you were charged.”

Customer: “Well, there were no more on the shelf.” *trails off and stares blankly at me*

Me: “Okay, then just hop back in my line and I’ll refund you.”

(I take one box to scan and issue the refund. I hold the item out and she starts to walk away with a dazed expression.)

Me: “Ma’am? You can take this back; I only needed it for a moment.”

Customer: “But, but, you just refunded me for… Wait, I didn’t want it, right?”

Me: “Okay, let’s go over this again.”

(She still didn’t quite understand, but I assured her that she had, indeed, paid for it and she accepted it reluctantly and left, still muttering to herself in confusion. I got distracted by a phone call and she was long gone by the time I realized she had also left her pocketbook tucked under the card reader.)

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