They Always Find The Time To Be Angry

, , , , , | Right | December 3, 2018

(I’m a cashier at a huge grocery store that sells everything. When we ring in a customer, right below their total on the receipt it shows the current time. One day as I’m ringing up a seemingly nice older lady, I accidentally read the time out loud rather than her total. Quickly realizing my mistake I correct myself.)

Me: “Oh, haha, I’m so sorry, ma’am, I accidentally looked at the clock. Your total is 105.27, not 12:43.”

Customer: “ARE YOU F****** KIDDING ME?! You should be paying more attention! I want to speak with your manager immediately!”

(Mind you, she had not paid me or taken out her money. I literally corrected myself within ten seconds. I call my manager over anyway.)

Manager: “What’s the problem, ma’am?”


Manager: “Leave.”

(The customer proceeds to try walking out with groceries she had not paid for.)

Manager: “No, ma’am, those can stay here.”

Customer: “Well, my f****** bad. I figured with that service I shouldn’t have to pay for this s***. What’s your corporate number?!”

Manager: “It’s on our website. Have a nice day.”

(The customer left, complaining to every single person she saw on her way out.)

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The Police Like To Check In Regularly

, , , , , , | Legal | December 3, 2018

(I am a cashier on a busy Saturday. A woman approaches my till and begins placing numerous items on the belt. I scan them, and the total is well over $200.)

Customer: “I would like to pay with a check.”

Me: “No problem. Can I please see you ID?”

Customer: “Oh, it is stuck in my wallet and really hard to get out.”

Me: “I understand.” *though I think it’s strange* “Can you write your ID number on the top of the check?”

(The woman begins to fill out her check and write the ID number for me as I scan the last of her items. Suddenly, I feel someone staring at me intently. I look up slowly, and standing directly behind the woman is a police officer. He holds his finger to his lips to keep me silent and motions for me to continue with the transaction.)

Me: “Okay.” *trying to act normal* “Your total is [over $200].”

(As the woman hands me the check, [Police Officer #1] grabs her and immediately handcuffs her. I stand absolutely still, having no idea what on earth is happening. Then I hear yelling from the left and see [Police Officer #2] coming up with a gun drawn!)

Police Officer #2: *to a man a few customers down in my line* “Down on the ground! Now!”

Police Officer #1: *to me* “Ma’am, please finish ringing up these items, close your line, and give me the receipt.”

(I immediately did so, turned off my light, and motioned for the manager to come over. I explained the situation as best I could and everyone dissipated from my line. The police officer returned to get my information and a brief statement. He then shared with me that this woman and her boyfriend had just used a fraudulent check at the department store next door and were planning on doing the same here. She and her accomplice were arrested, and for the next hour or so, every customer stood in my line to hear all about the scary arrest. Bonus points to me: despite the activity, my till was perfect. I got a cookie!)

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Respect Is A Mirror

, , , , , | Right | December 3, 2018

(It is a busy night, and I have a long line of customers. A man wants to exchange a hat he has bought, for a t-shirt. He does not have his receipt.)

Me: “I will need to see photo ID for the no-receipt exchange.”

Customer: “I don’t have it on me. Why? That’s so ridiculous.”

Me: I’m sorry, but it’s just company policy.”

(The man’s wife, who has said nothing the entire time, produces her driver’s licence for me so that I can process their transaction.)

Customer: “You can go on the cameras and see that I didn’t grab it off the shelf!”

Me: “I believe you, but it’s just part of my job. It’s policy.”

(I have to look up the return price in the computer system for his hat, since there is no receipt for proof of purchase. The return price is the last sale price within the past 60 days.)

Me: “So, because you don’t have a receipt, I have to give you the return price for the hat. It’s the last sale price from the last sixty days. The return price is $22.49, which is only about $8 less than the actual price.”

Customer: “But the tag clearly says it’s $30! Just give me $30 back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, because you don’t have proof of purchase, I can’t. I don’t know if you bought the hat for $30, or if you bought it on sale, or if it was even more than $30. So I have to use the last sale price.”

Customer: “But I KNOW that I paid $30!”

Me: *trying to be as calm as possible* “I’m sorry, but I can’t just go based on what you think you paid for it. I have to give you the return price. Again, it’s just policy.”

(The man proceeds to throw the hat at me across the cash desk, to which I give him a warning look of disapproval. By now, I am losing my patience, but I am trying to stay calm in the hopes that it will diffuse the situation.)

Customer: “This is f****** bull-s***!”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

(I call for my manager because, at this point, I have had enough. The other customers are in disbelief at the man’s language. I suspend his transaction and wait for my manager to come to help.)

Customer: “Why are you not ringing me through? I just want an exchange!”

Me: “I will not ring you through. My manager will be happy to help you, but I am not.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “Because I do NOT appreciate you swearing at me and disrespecting me when I am trying to help you. So now you can either wait for my manager to help you, or you can leave.”

Customer: “This is bull! I’m going back to [Other Store Location] because they never mentioned this. They will help me, unlike you, you worthless, good-for-nothing!”

(The man decides to leave, and as he does so, he decides to continue to swear at me about how I didn’t want to help him. The other customers told me that it was good to see me stand up for myself and that it was unfair that I was treated like that. My manager, who was with a customer, finally comes up, and my customers and I fill him in about the situation.)

Manager: “That just goes to show you: if you disrespect those who are trying to help you, they won’t!”

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“Being Fat Makes You Diabetic” And Other Urban Legends Only Believed By Idiots

, , , , , | Working | December 3, 2018

(My mother had gestational diabetes when she was pregnant with me and my older brother. It is basically a form of diabetes that only affects pregnant women if their bodies cannot produce enough insulin due to the pregnancy. She needed to use insulin and a meter to manage her blood sugar. While she is getting used to the meter and insulin, an old friend wants to go out for lunch together to catch up. By this point in her pregnancy she is visibly pregnant, and this is the first time my mother needs to take her insulin with her in public. They go to a local family-owned diner and catch up. My mother checks her blood sugar while her friend steps out to go to the bathroom. She decides she needs insulin and takes the needle out of her purse, when suddenly:)

Waitress: *snatches needle and throws it on the floor* “What do you think you’re doing?! YOU. ARE. A. MOTHER. Don’t you care about your child? Don’t you have any shame, you junkie piece of s***?”

(My mother is speechless. Some other patrons notice the commotion and start watching.)

Mom: “I’m not an addict; this is my insulin. I’m diabetic, and I need it because—”

(Suddenly a man appears. He seems to be a manager.)

Manager: “[Waitress], don’t bother. She’s diabetic. So she isn’t pregnant, she’s just obese.”

(By this point my mom was panicking. She needed her insulin, everyone was staring, and the waitress and manager were hurling insults at her. Fortunately, her friend came out of the bathroom and saw my mother crying. After shooting the waitress and manager a dirty look, she went over to the table, took my mother’s hand, and led her out of the restaurant. My mother’s friend refused to pay the restaurant anything and helped my mother prepare another shot in the car before they went home. My mother was so embarrassed that she didn’t want to talk about what happened to anyone. She didn’t even tell my dad until years later. My family moved to a different town after my brother was born, so we don’t know if anything happened to the diner or its staff.)

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Marking Down Items Takes Just A Sharpie

, , , , , | Right | December 2, 2018

(I am working part time at a temporary holiday store. This is only my second week there; it’s a Saturday near closing time. We have several small light-up figures around the cash wrap, basically impulse buys. We also have a specific method of marking down clearance or damaged items. I’m running the register, and we aren’t very busy, when this woman comes to check out with her son. As I’m ringing up her other purchases, she starts fiddling with the figures in front of my register where I can’t see.)

Customer: “And I want this, too.”

(She waves the figure at me, and I take it and scan it.)

Customer: “How much is that?”

Me: “$3.99, ma’am.”

Customer: “But it’s marked a dollar.”

(I turn over the tag and in RED ink, the original price is scratched out and “$1.00” is written above it. We have a manual tag printer for markdowns, and even when that device isn’t working, we never use red ink; furthermore, we have color-coded stickers that differentiate between clearance or damage pricing.)

Me: “I’m not sure, ma’am. I can check with my manager. Maybe it’s damaged.” *flicks the switch a couple times and it doesn’t turn on* “See? The light isn’t working.”

(She ignores me and proceeds to dig through the other display of figures.)

Customer: “Is this one a dollar, too? How about this one? What about these over here?”

Me: “I’m not sure, ma’am. They should be priced as marked.”

(She lays a pile of figures at my register just as my manager walks up.)

Customer: *points at me* “She said these are all a dollar! I want them all for a dollar!”

(My manager knows I wouldn’t say anything like that, and starts to explain that she cannot sell them for a dollar a piece. At this point, some other customers are looking on and shaking their heads at this woman. This woman’s son, aged about eleven, is trying to ignore everything, looking off in the distance.)

Customer: “Well, then, your employee lied to me. You should fire her and sell these to me for a dollar!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I need you to calm down. The only one I can sell you for a dollar is the one that is marked for a dollar. And I am making an exception for you, since it’s not even properly marked down. It is against policy to scratch out prices, and none of my employees would handle markdowns this way. You can either take this one figure for a dollar, or you can leave.”

Customer: *grumbles* “Fine. But she’s still a liar.”

(My manager does the price override, I finish the transaction, and the customer leaves.)

Next Customer: “The nerve of some people…”

Manager: “That’s what it’s like to work in retail.”

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