Your Friend Is Imaginary, Just Like Your Courtesy

, , , , , , , | Right | November 14, 2018

I work in a home decor store where all the registers are at the front, and people go to the next available register. It’s a busy Saturday, so all the registers are staffed and there’s a line. When my previous customer leaves, I look back at where the line starts. I call out that I can help the next person, but no one moves. At the front of a line is a woman with one item — a painting — who seems to be almost deliberately avoiding eye contact. I repeat that I can take the next person, thinking maybe she’s with the customer at the register closest to the line and the people behind her are next, but none of the customers move around her.

After about a minute goes by, I step out from my register so I’m more visible, and call for the next customer again, still to no avail. The customer at the front of the line is looking everywhere but at me. I finally start to walk closer to her, which gets her attention. We go to my register, where I start to ring her out.

“Sorry about that!” she says. “I must not have heard you; I was talking to my friend!”

Not only was she there alone, but she never said a word until she got to my register.

Someone’s On Drugs And It’s Not The Hamsters

, , , | Right | November 14, 2018

(It’s a Friday evening and I’m running the store by myself. There are only 15 minutes until we close so I’m doing some cleaning.)

Customer: *enters screaming* “You’ve been lying to me!”

Me: *rather startled* “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: *still screaming* “You told me hamsters should eat hay and cat-litter!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve said no such thing. Perhaps you’ve talked to someone else?”

Customer: “No! I know it was you; you just don’t remember it because they give you drugs! The guards are on their way to arrest you!”

Me: “Sorry? Who gives us drugs?”

Customer: “Don’t play dumb! It’s those brothers!” *walks away towards the rodent aisle*

(I keep cleaning, thinking this is the end of it.)

Customer: *once again screaming* “There are drugs in these hamster treats! From South America! Why are you selling them?!”

(I walk up to the customer to see what she is talking about; she is currently holding a bag of hamster food I remember her hamster didn’t eat so she came back with it.)

Me: *thinking she have forgotten about it* “Ma’am, I recall you returning [Food] last time because he didn’t—”

Customer: *interrupts me* “SHUT THE H*** UP! I’M TALKING TO THE GUARDS! Your dog treats give you diarrhea!”

(I just shake my head and return to the register. A few minutes later the customer comes back to me.)

Customer: “[Our Store] are idiots! They said my hamster was a male, but she is a female! That’s why she will eat this food!”

Me: “We don’t sell hamsters.”

(I finish the transaction for the food and treats. Apparently, the fact that the treats will be drug-filled isn’t a problem now.)

Me: *as she is heading for the door* “Have a nice weekend!”

Customer: “You, too! I hope you get some dog treats; everybody likes cake!”

(Ah, the exciting work of a pet store employee.)

Triggering A Very Powerful Off Switch

, , , , | Working | November 13, 2018

(I work in a call center. Outside is a break room where people go to smoke. Sitting across from me is a guy sullenly eating a pizza. His phone starts to chime, and he hits a button to silence it. Again it happens, and then again.)

Coworker: “Hey, buddy! I’m on break! Can you shut off your—”

(He hasn’t finished the sentence when the guy stands up and throws his cell phone hard, past the smoking area, where it crashes hard into the pavement, shattering and splintering into pieces.)

Sullen Guy: “IT’S OFF NOW!” *walks inside without a word*

Your Printer Requires Some Hyper-Ventilation

, , , | Right | November 13, 2018

(I’m a customer in this. A woman comes up to me with her arms loaded with printer cartridges. She drops them on the floor before addressing me.)

Woman: “Can you help me? I’m trying to find the right cartridge for my printer. It’s all so confusing!”

Me: “It can quite a bit daunting. Sure, I can help.”

Woman: “I get all in a panic and have to sit down.”

Me: “Really?”

Woman: *nodding frantically* “I’m on pills for it. The stress is. Just. Too. Much!”

Me: “Okay… Which printer do you have?”

Customer: *company and model* “I have my used one with me. They have a bin for them!”

(She hands me the cartridge, with the label and number associated with that particular model still attached. None of the ones she dumped are right, so I head to the shelves. I find it quite quickly and hand it to her. She looks are me like I’ve sprung from the underworld.)

Woman: “How… How did you do that?!”

Me: *pointing at the cartridge* “That number is on every colour cartridge you buy for your printer. You use that to find the right one.”

(Dumbfounded, she looked at the number, before hyperventilating. I started panicking myself until she grabbed a bottle from her bag and dropped whatever was inside into her mouth. She headed to the checkout, noticeably calmer, mumbling a “thanks” as she chewed. I see her pretty much every time I go in to buy something, and when she notices me she points at whatever cartridge she’s holding and guffaws. I can’t fathom why should would need so much ink, but I hope she tries to get a better printer, as it must cost her a fortune!)

Caught Them Coffee-Handed

, , , , | Right | November 13, 2018

(My mum is waiting for me in a popular coffee shop. She grabs a coffee while she waits for me to get off work nearby. After a while, she needs the restroom, so she leaves the table for a few moments. When she returns:)

Random Customer: “Hey! Cheeky cow! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Mum: “What?”

Random Customer: “You can’t just drink someone else’s coffee, lady!”

Mum: “What are you talking about? This is my coffee.”

Random Customer: “Er, no, it isn’t. I’m getting you kicked out!”

Mum: “It is my coffee. I just went to use the ladies; that’s all.”

Random Customer: “Yeah, right.”

(The random customer then cuts the queue to rant at the barista about my mum. The barista looks over, and tells the man that my mum did indeed pay for the drink, and is entitled to drink the coffee she paid for.)

Random Customer: “But I was here! She just walked up and started drinking it!”

Barista: “Yes, because she paid for it. You walked in just after she got up to go to the restroom. It is her coffee; now leave her alone, or you’ll have to leave.”

(This apparently embarrassed the random customer enough to shut up. Later, Mum dropped her walking stick to the floor, and the same random customer who accused her of drinking someone else’s drink came over, picked it up for her, and walked off without another word.)

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