“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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Serving Sonic

, , , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2020

While cashiering, I have a break in customers and work on some straightening. When I next look up, I see a couple going over their items with a woman cradling her substantial amount of fabric. Then, I see something that looks like a tiny paw reach out. I am too far away to be sure, but I assume it has to be a kitten to be that small. 

They soon come up to my register as I’m the only cashier open, and I ask for the fabric ticket to scan, as well as the usual customer service questions. Just as I’m asking them how their evening is going, the woman sets down the fabric and it rustles. She asks me if I want to see their new baby and starts to uncover the top of this vague fabric nest.

A hedgehog perks up and, within a moment, attempts to dash across my register!

The woman catches her pet before it can get too far away or come to any harm, and thankfully, she holds on to it in the fabric for the rest of the short transaction, both her and her partner pleased and friendly the whole time. It is hardly a bad experience but decidedly one of the stranger things to have ever crossed my register.

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Scored Ten For Ten!

, , , , , , | Working | March 27, 2020

(I’m picking up two to-go orders from a restaurant I frequent. I get my food and go to pay. Side note: the elderly owner doesn’t allow anyone to work the register except himself.)

Me: *gives him the ticket for the first order*

Owner: “Your total is $7 even.”

(I pay with a $20 and he gives me back a ten and three ones. I give him the ticket for the second order, which ends up being more than $3, so I pay with the ten-dollar bill. The owner places the bill on top of the cash drawer while he gets my change, and then he hands me some ones and another ten.)

Me: *hands him back the ten* “I paid with a $10 the second time.”

(He looks surprised but looks at me and then the bill still on top of the drawer and quickly takes back the extra ten and points a finger at me.)

Owner: “I was just testing you. Have a good day!”

Me: “Riiight…”

(I keep thinking, “What would have happened if the register came up short later and he couldn’t blame anyone else?”)

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The 100-Foot Journey Is Too Much For Some

, , , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2020

(I’m the operations manager at a department store. In an effort to cut costs, we’ve been directed to remove our registers from some outlying departments. Since I’m one of the more technologically proficient people in my store, I’m unplugging things and getting them sorted out onto carts to be moved to the stockroom where they’ll be fully wiped of information before they’re sent back to a central hub. Thus far, I’ve detached the card readers and screens from both registers, they’re already on a cart behind me, and all the cash has been removed from the tills. A well-dressed, uppity-looking woman sets two boxes of shoes down in front of me.)

Me: “Good morning! If you’d like to purchase these they’ll be able to—”

Customer: “Of course I want to purchase them.”

Me: “Great. As I was saying, they’ll be able to help you in the jewelry department right over there.”

Customer: “Why would I walk all the way over there?”

(The jewelry department is perhaps 100 feet away, towards the entrance to the mall where I presume the woman came in. Our only other entrance is in the tool department, quite a bit further away.)

Me: “Well, if you came in by the tools, they’ll be able to check you out over there, as well.”

Customer: “Do I look like I came in by the tools? Ring me up for the shoes now. I hate waiting like this; it’s stupid.”

(I look down in front of me at the wires I’m clearly detaching from the CPU of the register and then back at the cart behind me that’s got the screens and card readers on it. I turn back to the customer.)

Me: “If it’s not incredibly obvious, these registers aren’t functional right now. You’ll need to go to a department with a functioning register to check out; there are people ready to take care of you at either entrance.”

Customer: “Well, if they aren’t functioning, fix them.”

(It’s been a long day already and I’m apparently over her.)

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m not going to reassemble a register, get a cash drawer for it, and reboot the whole thing so that you’re able to cash out here. Jewelry or tools, please.”

Customer: “I can wait here all day; you will serve me.”

Me: “I encourage you to hold your breath.”

(I worked there for four more years. I noticed that woman shopping several other times, and I never helped her. Serve yourself, you entitled witch.)

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