Three Beers!

, , , , | Right | July 15, 2020

I’ve more or less had enough of my job. The customers are the worst I have dealt with, and although other staff fairly share their time on the till, I’m generally just put on a till and forgotten about. All in all, I’m out of patience.

On one day like this, a gentleman comes to the till with a single can of beer taken from a pack of four. We don’t sell them this way. There is only a price for the four-pack. Also, due to a fairly new minimum alcohol unit pricing law, we legally cannot reduce the price lower than a certain amount.

Me: “I’m sorry, we can’t sell those singly.”

Customer: “Seriously?”

Me: “Seriously.”

Customer: “Well… just scan it through!”

Me: “I can’t. The price will come through as the four-pack since the barcode is for a four-pack of beer.”

Customer: “Reduce it. Work out whatever they normally are divided by four. If you can.”

Me: “I know maths, but because of the alcohol law, I cannot reduce it. The till will think I’m selling a four-pack for £1.15.”

Customer: “Oh, just do your job and scan it! I don’t have time to argue!”

I do as I am told and scan it.

Me: “Okay. That’s £4.60.”

Customer: “What? For one can?”

Me: “As I told you, we don’t sell them singly. The till assumes there are four. You might as well get the other three.”

The customer glared at me and got the others. We finished the transaction in silence. I’m quitting that job tomorrow. It can’t come fast enough.

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That’s One Way To Unplug His Batteries

, , , , , , , | Working | July 14, 2020

My part of the world gets very cold in the winter, and I recently splurged on a pair of battery-powered gloves. When they’re switched on, they give off a small blue light.  

I am shopping for groceries and groan inwardly when I see my cashier. He’s a nice guy, but he never. Stops. Talking. I’ve learned to just nod and smile and give the occasional, “You got that right!” or “I know!”. Even if I wanted to engage in conversation, he’d never give me a chance to get a word in edgewise, anyway.

Cashier: “Blah blah blah.”

Me: “You bet.”

Cashier: “Blah blah blah.”

Me: “Ain’t that the truth?”

Cashier: “Blah— What’s that?!

Me: “You said it— Wait, what’s what?”

Cashier: “THAT!”

He points accusingly at the lights on my gloves.


Me: “No! Those are my gloves. They’re battery-powered.”

He glares at me suspiciously. 

Cashier: “Really? You’re not one of those secret shoppers?”

Me: “No!”

He conducted the rest of my transaction in complete silence.

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Prince Charming, Lord Of Nosy Questions, Ruler Of Oversanitized Belts

, , , , , , , , | Working | July 13, 2020

I am a regular at our local grocery store and have gotten to know the employees. Most are fine, and then there’s [Cashier]. I will wait an extra half-hour to check out rather than use the register he is manning. Here are a few reasons for that.

I put a bag of three tomatoes on the belt. [Cashier] squeezes each tomato as he rotates it in the bag to find the item number, even though I’ve already weighed and tagged the tomatoes.

Cashier: “You know, these are really ripe!”

Me: *Internally* “No kidding, I intend to use them in my cooking tonight.”

I get home to discover the skin of all three torn with finger-shaped bruises all over.

During the health crisis, when the store mandates you cannot put your groceries on the belt until the cashier cleans the belt, and customers are assigned to a line by a store employee, this happens.

Cashier: “I’ll let you know when the belt is clean; don’t unload your cart yet.”

Me: “You cleaned the belt before the customer ahead of me, who bought only a newspaper, which he didn’t even set on the belt since it was all wet.”

Cashier: “Nope, rules are rules.”

He uses a spray bottle until the surface of the belt is absolutely soaked, wipes it down with one sheet of paper towel, advances the belt, and repeats the process until he has a belt that is wet and shiny all around. It’s at least a ten-minute process.

After I’ve carefully stacked the groceries to keep boxes and paper items off the still wet belt, the cashier says this:

Cashier: “You can’t put items on top of each other; everything has to make contact with the sanitizer.”

He sets each item on the belt before scanning it.

Me: “Exactly what benefit is setting the bottom of a box of cereal on the belt gaining me when you are touching everything on the top and sides, as will I when I use it? Also, please remove the dried pasta from my order, as I can see the box already starting to sag from getting wet, which means the bottom layer of pasta is probably covered in sanitizer spray, too.”

The #1 reason I refuse to go to [Cashier]’s line unless forced to:

I unload a full week’s worth of groceries for a family of four onto the belt. [Cashier] comments on every single item he rings up.

Cashier: “Are these good?”

Cashier: “How do you use [item of produce] in your cooking?”

Cashier: “I haven’t eaten this since I was a kid!”

Cashier: “Oh, these make people fat.”

And so on. I ignore him and tune him out, until…

Cashier: “Oh, a box of tampons! How do these feel when you use them? I see lots of women buying them and I’ve always wondered what it is like.”

He continues asking about the tampons the entire time I’m bagging my groceries and paying.

Even if he was flirting — and I don’t think he was — the guy is pasty white, wears Coke-bottle glasses, and has been working as a cashier for at least the ten years I’ve been a customer, while most of the other cashiers I’ve known have received promotions to better positions. He’s not a Prince Charming by any stretch of the imagination.

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The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 13

, , , , , | Right | July 12, 2020

I am working at a popular coffee chain inside of a popular department store. A woman comes up to the counter and asks to buy four gift cards as thank-yous for her child’s school teachers. During this particular time, many other people have been doing the same thing, and our gift cards and gift card envelopes have been limited and running out quickly.

Customer: “I want to get four gift cards for $10 each.”

Me: “All right, we’ve got two ‘teacher’ gift cards left, so is it all right if we put the other two on normal gift cards?”

The customer stares at me in disbelief.

Customer: “What? You only have two?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we’ve been selling out of these cards rather quickly.”

Customer: “Uh… Okay. Fine, I guess that will have to do.”

I ring up the cards.

Me: “All right, your total is $40. Did you want to add any drinks to your purchase today?”


Me: *Wide-eyed stare* “Oh, uh…”

I look in the gift card holder and there is only one gift card envelope left.

Me: “It looks like this is the only one left.”

Customer: “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! What kind of place doesn’t have enough envelopes for their gift cards?!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, like I said before, we’ve been selling a lot of gift cards due to the end of school. We aren’t an official store, so we don’t get as much stock as a regular store would.”

Customer: “I insist you go to the back and look for more.”

Me: “Well, I can look, but I’m not sure we’ve got anymore.”

Meanwhile, a line of five or more people has started forming. The woman, crazy-eyed, is fuming. Going to the “backroom,” which is just the kitchen for the snack bar, I rustle around in some boxes, knowing there aren’t any more envelopes there.

Me: “Ma’am, I searched the back, and there just aren’t any more envelopes.”


Me: “Perhaps you can write the amount in the card you intend on giving them, or you can write the amount in Sharpie on the card. I have a Sharpie right he—”

Customer: “You have got to be f****** kidding me. I will not do that. I want to speak to your manager. RIGHT NOW!”

I call over my supervisor and tell him the problem.

Supervisor: “Ma’am, unfortunately, we are completely out of the envelopes. We can offer you some of our store gift card envelopes, or perhaps you can go to another store and get some from them. I really apologize for the inconvenience.”

Customer: “Well, f*** this place! I don’t want those anymore. I will never come here again.”

Supervisor: “All right, then. Have a good day!”

She stormed out of the cafe, and I continued making drinks for the other customers.

The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 12
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 11
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 10
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 9
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 8

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Won’t Believe Your Eyes

, , , , | Right | July 11, 2020

I’m a cashier at a large grocery store. A woman starts loading her groceries on the end of the belt and I’m watching her, waiting for the items to roll down the belt so I can reach them.

Customer: “Oh, wow, you have very pretty eyes.”

Me: “Oh, thank you!”

Customer: “What color are they?”

I hesitate for a moment.

Me: “They’re blue-ish.”

Customer: “They look green.”

Me: “No, ma’am. They’re definitely blue, but sometimes they look more grey.”

Customer: “Oh, you have those kinds of eyes that like change color sometimes?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “My niece has eyes like that. The ones that change colors. Scares the daylights out of me. I think she’s possessed. I hate her eyes.”

Me: “Oh.”

I quickly changed the subject back to her groceries in order to hide my surprise.

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