I hop on a register to help get the line down. I go to the second customer on the nearest line.

Me: “Hi, I can take you at the next register.”

A woman comes from the back of the line and goes right to my register.

Woman: “Hello? Can you come do your job? I have places to be!”

I turn to the customer I approached.

Me: “I’m so sorry. We can—”

Customer: “You can go. I’ll go after her.”

I go back to the register and see that she hasn’t unloaded any of her things.

Me: “Do you have a membership?”

Woman: *Rolls her eyes* “Yes.”

Me: “Do you have the card, or can I enter your number?”

She says her phone number, each digit quieter than the last.

Me: “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear that. Could you—”

Woman: *Screams her phone number* “BETTER?!”

Me: *Smiling* “Much better. Thank you. Please put your items on the belt.”

She huffs but empties her cart.

Woman: “They only let r****ds work here, huh?”

Customer: “You should apply, then.”

I nearly drop the glass jar I just scanned. The woman looks from me to the man behind her.

Woman: “Are you f****** kidding? He can’t talk to me like that!”

Me: “Your total is [hundreds of dollars].”

Woman: *Tosses several $100 bills at me* “I’m sure you’re used to much smaller bills being thrown your way.”

I start checking the bills against the light and with the counterfeit pen.

Woman: “Are you kidding?! Do I look like some broke b**** making fake money?”

I still haven’t said a word. I give her the change, and she storms off. I turn to the next customer.

Me: “I apologize about that.”

Customer: “No problem. I got her on video. I’m going to see if her employer knows what a b**** she is.”

Since she screamed her phone number, it wasn’t hard to find her. It turns out she was an elementary school teacher! She was put on leave until the end of the school year and was not invited to renew her employment contract the next year.

I am a cashier at my retail job and am nearing the end of my shift. A gentleman who smells of weed walks up to my line and sets his items on the little shelf.

Me: *Scanning his items* “How are you doing today, sir? Staying cool in this heat?”

Customer: “Ahhhhh, y’know, I’m all right.”

Me: “Good to hear! Your total today is 2.95.”

He hands me $3.

Me: “Out of three dollars, your change is five cents.”

I punch the numbers into my terminal so the change drawer pops open.

Customer: “Woah, you did all that in your head?!”

Me: *Laughing a bit* “Well, I gotta use the degree I’m paying for somehow.”

Customer: “Okay, okay, okay, ummm. What is 100 minus 37?”

Me: “That’ll be… 63, sir.”

Customer: “Wow! You’re really good at math! You stay smart now.”

I work in a store that asks if you’d like to donate to a charity on checkout. An adult customer and his mother see the prompt.

Customer: “What’s this charity thing? Who do they help?”

Me: “The charity donates to a scholarship fund that allows children from low-income households to go to college.”

Customer: “But I had to pay for my degree. Why should I pay for theirs?”

Customer’s Mother: “Your father paid for your degree, and he paid again when you dropped out in your first year because it was too hard for you! Give them your twenty-one cents! They’ll do more with it than you will!”

He donated… but fumed.

Two teenage girls are making a large purchase (lots of flashy designer items), and the total comes to almost $3,000. They hand over an American Express card to pay for it, and I notice the card has a man’s name.

Me: “Is this you?”

Customer: “No, that’s our dad.”

Me: “Is he around?”

Customer: “Oh, he died yesterday. I’m just trying to max out his credit card before we report it.”

Me: *Instant look of horror* “Why would you tell me that?!”

Customer: “You’re minimum wage! Why should you care? I work in a [Dollar Store] and let people get away with all kinds of s***.”

Me: “I’m a manager, and you realize I’m gonna have to report this now, right?”

Customer: “Why you gotta ruin all our fun?”

Me: “Fun?! Your dad just died!”

Customer: “Noooo, he died yesterday. Weren’t you listening?”

Me: “I listened to the part where you admitted to committing fraud and the non-reporting of a dead body.”

Customer: “Fraud? What fraud?” 

Me: “Dead people can’t use credit cards.”

Customer: “He’s not using it. I am!”

She just… didn’t get it. She still didn’t get it when the police were escorting them away. 

Related:
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 17
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 16
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 15
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 14
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 13

This store has cardboard holders that you can put mix-and-match beer in. I buy six ginger beers loose, and I have to wait while the cashier goes and gets a holder to put them in for me. 

So, the next time, I do that myself to save time, and a different cashier cards me.

Me: “But they’re not alcoholic.”

Cashier: *Snaps* “Why are they in a beer holder, then?”

I just rolled my eyes and handed over my ID.