One night, I had a very nice family come to the register: a mother, a daughter, a maybe five-year-old, and a toddler the mother was holding. I told them to give me a second because I had to show my boss something down the aisle (in view of the register).

I came back and cashed them out, and I noticed that the package of birthday balloons they had placed at the end of my belt was missing, and in its place was an empty package for skull caps.

My manager went and watched the cameras. He came back laughing. Apparently, in the thirty seconds I was gone, the mother ditched the empty package that she had hiding under the toddler and shoved the balloons in her purse. They paid for everything else and were really nice, which is why he was laughing. The total of what they stole versus what they paid? They stole $4.75, but they paid for $50 worth of stuff.

Never assume a wholesome family is just a nice, innocent customer.

I am in line at a grocery store cashing out a twelve-pack. A woman walks toward me and takes her place in line. However, instead of standing behind me in line she decides to stand right beside me. The woman in front of me finishes her transaction and, what do you know, the lady beside me actually pushes past me and tries to cut me.

Honestly, in my head, I am about to just let her go because she clearly is in a much bigger rush than I, and I personally don’t mind waiting an extra two minutes. No big deal to me.

However, the awesome cashier (who has cashed me out frequently) speaks up.

Cashier: “Uh, I’m sorry, but she was waiting here before you.”

The lady scoffs and steps aside. With a huge smile, I make sure to have a nice and lengthy chat with the cashier. “How’s your day?” “Yeah, thank God it’s Friday!” “Did you do anything fun on Halloween?” And so on. She knew, and I knew.

The whole time, I felt the rushing lady’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, and I was just loving every minute of it.

Thanks, awesome cashier!

Related:
You Know, They Teach Taking Turns In Kindergarten

I’m working at the checkout.

Me: “That’ll be [total], please.”

The customer produces a rival store’s rewards card from their wallet.

Me: “…”

Customer: “Why aren’t you giving me my points?”

I just tapped my uniform and waited for the penny to drop.

Thanks to some assistance and other factors, I end up going to a high school that usually costs a lot of money. It’s a big deal in my family that I get to go! While the vast majority of the costs are covered, I still don’t want to be a burden on my family, so I get a part-time job on the weekends working the checkout at a grocery store.

The grocery store, like my school and most things in the area, is quite high-end and so attracts a certain “type” of customer.

I am scanning items when I hear my name called. I look up, and the customer I am serving is with one of my schoolmates.

Schoolmate: “Oh, hey, [My Name]! I didn’t know you worked here!”

Me: “Yes, just at the weekends to help out the family.”

Schoolmate’s Mother: “[Schoolmate], how do you know this…” *gives me a quick look up-and-down, her disapproval palpable* “…person?“

Schoolmate: “Mom, this is [My Name]. I know her from school.”

Schoolmate’s Mother: “Do you work there, too? The cafeteria?”

Schoolmate: *Laughs* “No, Mom! Silly! Remember I told you that I got extra help in science the other day? That was [My Name]!”

Schoolmate’s Mother: “Oh, so you’re a teacher’s assistant?”

Me: “No, ma’am, I am a student, same as [Schoolmate]. I helped her with a science project the other day.”

Schoolmate’s Mother: *Looking like she’s having a stroke* “But… but why are you working?“

I want to say, “Because I’m poor,” but she’s still a customer, so I pull out some BS to get this conversation over and done with.

Me: “Oh, I just think it will make me a more open-minded person and allow me to appreciate the value of hard work.”

Schoolmate’s Mother: “Nonsense! I’ve never worked a day in my life, and look how I turned out.”

Schoolmate: “Mom… that’s not the flex that you think it is.”

Later that year, this crazy lady actually complains at an open parents’ night that “people like me” shouldn’t be allowed in the school and certainly shouldn’t be mingling with the “real students.”

A few months later, she ends up in my checkout lane again! I don’t think she notices me at first as she is on her phone, but she realizes something is up when I’m not touching any of her items.

Schoolmate’s Mother: “Well?”

Me: “Oh, hi there, Mrs. [Schoolmate’s Mother]. Sorry, I would love to check you out, but I can’t. I’m not real, y’see. You said I wasn’t a real person, so there’s nothing I can do.”

The penny has dropped; she remembers.

Schoolmate’s Mother: “That’s not what I meant, and you know it! Check me out or I will call over your manager.”

Me: “Oh, well, y’see, we could do that, but I’m seventeen and I am amazing at my job here, just like I am amazing at school — y’know, that same school where I don’t belong — and I think I am safe at both. Now, please feel free to use another checkout where real people exist, but since I am not real and therefore unable to serve you, you’ll just be talking to yourself. Bye!”

She stormed off, and she must have complained to my manager; said manager came over near the end of my shift to give me a high-five after I explained my side of the story.

This story is part of our Editors’-Favorite-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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I used to work in a convenience store in the middle of the high street. The self-checkouts were often too complicated for the customers. The most common conundrum was the fact that the machine told people to put the item they just scanned “in the bag”. By this, it meant the bagging area, which used a pressure sensor to confirm the items, and where there was a little hook we used to hang the plastic bags from until the 5p charge came along and people kept taking them but not paying for them.

I was always surprised by the sheer number of times a customer would be standing there yelling, “I did put it in the bag!” while holding the bag in their hand. People, the machine isn’t sentient and it can’t see you!

The coin and cash slots confused people, too. The slot for notes was as you’d imagine, but for the coins, there was a kind of well next to the screen with a little conveyor where you were supposed to drop the coins. The belt dragged them into the machine and change was dispensed into a tray underneath.

Some genius let their kid try and push a £1 coin into the cash slot, which I then had to pry out with a pen and a pair of tweezers.

Not many of these idiots were ever appreciative, or apologetic. The worst was this woman, who stood there holding her items instead of putting them in the bagging area as I fixed the issue. I finished up and turned to get back to work, as it was the lunch rush.

Customer: “No, don’t go anywhere. You might need to help me again!”