(I work as a bagger at the local grocery store. An old man walks through the checkout lane with spandex pants on and what appears to be a wine bottle stuffed down.)
Cashier: “Sir, there is no way in h*** that you are THAT well-endowed. Get your butt back here!”
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(I’m ringing up a man who is buying a new laptop.)
Customer: “So, what are your ethnicities?”
(This question didn’t strike me as odd, as people have wondered in the past.)
Me: “Half European and half Middle Eastern.”
Customer: “Oh, so like one of those terrorists… just watered-down.”
Me: “Oh, I’m not watered-down, sir.” *holds out his receipt, smirking*
(The customer looked a bit freaked, grabbed his receipt and took off quickly with his stuff — except for his credit card.)
(I am monitoring the customers at the self-checkout machines when a customer holding cilantro angrily waves me over.)
Me: “Sir, what seems to be the problem?”
Customer: “These machines are so useless! They don’t even have cilantro under the look-up list!”
Me: “Sir, it’s because you’re looking under ‘S’ instead of ‘C’ — cilantro is spelled with a ‘C.'”
Customer: “Oh, so you’re a know-it-all, huh? We’ll see what you know when these machines take over YOUR job one day!”
Me: “…”
(An elderly woman well into her 70s comes through the check-out line with a single bottle of wine. I start to scan the bottle through.)
Customer: “Wait! Aren’t you going to check my ID?”
Me: “Er, no, ma’am, I don’t think it’s really necessary.”
Customer: “Well, that’s no good! You should check all ID if you’re selling alcohol.”
Me: “Well, okay. May I see your ID, please?”
(She hands over an ID card that is obviously fake.)
Me: “Ma’am… this card says you’re seventeen.”
Customer: “Oh, dear! You’ve caught me! I’m much too young to be buying this! It’s a good thing you were checking IDs. I’d better just go now! *skips out the door*
Me: “…”
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(A mother and her young son come up to me, each with their own items to buy. I finish ringing up the mother and start with the little boy.)
Mother: *to her son* “Isn’t it nice to buy your toys with your own money?”
Son: “Yeah.”
(The son begins to reach over the conveyor belt for some candy.)
Mother: “Oh, you don’t need that. Put it back.”
Me: *to the boy* “Your total is $6.66.”
Mother: “Oh, no, no, no! Buy that candy!”
This story is featured in our Religious Customers roundup!
