This was a long time ago, and was the worst thing I ever saw happen in a store, back when people could get away with saying things like this.

The manager of the store was labeling shelves with promotions like “two for $1” and “three for $1”. There was a Black woman right behind me who noticed the signs.

Customer: “Those are my favorite.”

So, she piled up her basket with the sale items to the limit listed on the sign.

She was ahead of me in line and offered to let me go ahead, but I said no; I wasn’t in a hurry.

The cashier was unaware of the sale and asked the manager who had just put up the signs. He accused the customer of stealing.

Me: “How is that possible since she was at the register with cash in her hand?”

The manager rounded on me

Manager: “Obviously, you don’t know how ‘that’ kind behaves, or you wouldn’t be so naïve.”

The lady in front of me started to cry.

Me: *To her* “Don’t move.”

I went and got the two sale signs and showed them to the cashier.

Me: “I just watched the manager put these up right before the woman selected the items.”

Cashier: “I’d be fired if I rang them up at that price for that kind of person.”

Me: “Am I the right kind of person?’

I left my items on the counter. I gave the woman in front of me money to buy the same items at the grocery store for full price (two doors down), and then I went home and called corporate. I was told that the manager there was a good manager but old-fashioned. I told them that was a funny way to say someone was a racist who was losing them customers.

I never went back.

This customer’s card isn’t being read by our machine. I try to talk him through it so that he can go on. I make some comment about making a perfect swipe. The customer makes an over-the-top flamboyant swipe.

Customer: “Is that the definition of ‘perfect’?”

The card is still not registering because he’s not following directions, and I’m just distracted enough not to recognize my instincts telling me to proceed with caution.

I try to dry-humoredly use the correct directions as my “definition of perfect”, but this customer is “The Intellectual” — the special brand of a**hole who is only happy when he can flout his intelligence as superior to yours.

He makes an even more over-the-top flamboyant swipe with a sly smile.

Customer: “Is that the definition of ‘perfect’?”

He’s still not following directions, and I now KNOW he will not follow directions until I admit I have made a mistake.

Me: “Of course, that’s not the actual definition of perfect. Here, let me enter your card manually and you can be on your way.”

Customer: “I’ve got this, since you know the definition of ‘perfect’.”

Now he’s sliding the card too slowly so it doesn’t read correctly and therefore doesn’t go through.

Customer: “Are you sure this is the definition of ‘perfect’?”

A regular was in line behind him and easily recognized that he was swiping too slow. She coached him, and now, he wasn’t smiling. He realized he couldn’t use “American Customer Service” to his advantage anymore as people lined up behind him; I couldn’t demand that he hurry the f*** up and figure it out, but they could.

Wouldn’t you know it? He slid his card quickly and it went through.

Ugh, this story reminds me of an idiot who wanted to buy cigarettes when I was working during the global health crisis.

Customer: “These are [amount around thirty cents] more a pack than they were last time! This is price-gouging! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

No, honey, that’s inflation, not price gouging.

Somehow, I was not, in fact, ashamed of myself.

Related:
Has Beef With Water
Inflation’s A Thing. Who Knew?

I am working the checkout, and today, the computer is being temperamental. It means I have to scan a little slower than usual, and most customers seem to take this in their stride. One customer, however, an older man, seems to be taking personal offense to this.

Customer: “Oh, my God! Could you go any slower?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the machine isn’t allowing me to scan too fast or it’ll freeze.”

Customer: “Jesus f****** Christ! I have places to be, you stupid woman!”

Me: “Sir, I don’t want this transaction to last any longer than you do!”

Customer: “You stupid—”

As the customer is about to continue being a jerk, a child steps up to him. He’s a little boy, maybe four or five, and his mother is the customer immediately behind this jerk.

Little Kid: *Creepily, while pointing at the jerk customer* “Nothing at all!”

Customer: “What?!”

Little Kid: *Still pointing, and somehow even more intense* “Nothing at all!”

Customer: “What are you… what… what are you doing?”

The mother comes up and puts her hands on the kid’s shoulders.

Mother: “Sorry, I just taught him that if you don’t have anything nice to say to a nasty person, then you say nothing at all.”

Little Kid: “Nothing at all!“

Mother: “The misunderstanding is my fault, but, well… he has a point, don’t you think?”

The jerk customer glared at all of us, except the child; he somehow couldn’t make eye contact with the little boy who had called out his bad behavior. He finished our transaction in silence and grumpily grabbed his groceries. 

Mother and child got a staff discount!

I once had the pleasure of having this regular customer who was the most… grumpy nice person I had ever met. I know some older Scottish ladies can be eccentric, but even to this day, I can’t figure her out. At first, you’d be shocked at her attitude, but as you got used to it, you kinda… leaned into it.

A regular interaction would go like this.

Customer: *Paying at the end of a transaction* “And I suppose you’ll be wanting me to round up my total for charity or some crap like that? Who are you collecting for this week?”

Me: “It’s the same as it always is, ma’am: [Children’s Charity].”

Customer: “Ugh, fine. Add an extra twenty to the total. Might as well invest in the children in the hope they come out better than your generation with all its TikTok and what-not.”

The next time:

Customer: *Paying at the end of a transaction* “And why do you look so glum? Is it that depressing serving me?”

Me: “Oh, no! I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

Customer: “Ugh! You kids and your inability to handle these normal days at work! When do you finish?”

Me: “In half an hour.”

Customer: “And you can’t hold on for half an hour, eh? Typical. I suppose you’ll be wanting a pat on the back for surviving another day at work?”

Me: “Just a [burger meal] from across the street is usually enough to keep me going.”

After that, she took her shopping to her car, and then she went across the street and actually brought me back one of those burger meals!

Customer: “Can’t have you wasting away and complaining now! You look too thin already!”

The next time she’s paying at the end of the transaction, extra grumpy this time:

Me: “How are you doing today?”

Customer: “Terrible! Some cat just came up to me in my garden and just… sat on me! Like I was some kind of cushion! I tried to tell the bloody thing to go away, but it wouldn’t listen! Now it just… sits there, meowing, like some kind of stubborn pile of fur!”

Me: “Haha! Well, cats do have a habit of choosing people.”

Customer: “It’s terrible, I tell you! What made it worse is now I have to buy bloody cat food and a cat basket and toys and all this other crap, and would you believe how much you crooks sell it for?! Daylight robbery, I tell you!”

Me: “Oh, wow! It sounds like you’re already a cat person!”

Customer: “And don’t get me started on the vet bills! They told me how much to get it checked over and spayed, and I thought, for that much, you might as well give it a soap bath and set it up in a suite for a month with limitless tuna and a catnip carpet!”

Me: “Well, I am sure the cat appreciates all that you’re doing.”

Customer: “Who asks if I’m ready to be a cat person?! No one! Yet who got chosen?! Me! This world, honestly, I tell you…”

I always look forward to when she comes in.

She named the cat Fleabag McS**tstain, and she is always grumpily buying it the best cat food we sell.