(My boyfriend has traveled to America to visit me. While checking out at a shop, he and the cashier are making conversation about that.)

Cashier: “So, what brings you to America?”

Boyfriend: “Him.” *points at me*

Cashier: “That’s nice. Are you planning on doing anything special here?”

Boyfriend: “Not really. I’m just going to relax and spend some time with my sweetie.”

Cashier: “Ooh, did you meet a cute girl here?”

Boyfriend: “No, him.” *points at me again*

Cashier: “…”

Cashier: “OHHHH.”

(We all laughed about it.)

(I am in line at a store, trying to purchase breakfast and a drink for my lunch. The cashier is obviously new at her job, and subsequently is still learning which buttons to press, etc. I am trying to purchase a coffee, a doughnut, and a sports drink.)

Cashier: “Ugh. This drink won’t scan. Honey, can you run back to the display and grab another drink with a clearer bar code?”

Me: “No. I think you’re just putting the scanner too close to the code. Move the bottle back an inch or two and try again.”

Cashier: “No, that’s not it. Get a new bottle.”

Manager: “What’s going on?”

Cashier: “This bottle won’t scan, so I’m waiting on her to go get a new one.”

Manager: “Try again. I think you’re holding the bottle too close to the scanner again.”

Cashier: “Okay… your total is $13.50.”

Me: “No. You punched in a dozen doughnuts, but I only have one. My total should be more like $5.00.”

Cashier: *now angry* “I hit the doughnut button and that’s what came up. That’s what it costs to buy a doughnut!”

Manager: “What’s up?”

Cashier: “She’s mad about being held up in line, so she’s arguing with me about doughnuts.”

Me: “I was charged for a dozen doughnuts when I only have one. I was simply pointing that out.”

Manager: “Did you even look for the ‘individual doughnut’ button?”

Cashier: “No. I just hit the picture of doughnuts.”

Manager: “This explains so much. Here…”

(The manager ended up stepping in and finishing the transaction. As I walked away from the checkout, I saw the people in line behind me start heading for other checkouts rather than have to deal with the new cashier.)

(I start working in a big box store as a cashier. I have an extensive retail background so I personally learn the POS system and stop training to work alone in ten minutes. I start training other new people in my first three days. When I meet a new person and they ask how long it took me, I tell them that I’m not the norm and I explain why. The company wants new cashiers to have one day of training then be on their own; it is a super easy system. This day I’m training another new person who I find out has actually worked for the company two weeks longer than me, is full time, and who is supposed to be in the Money Center. After she tells me this, I make her jump on the register and watch what she does. She very, VERY slowly goes through checking the person out and bagging their items, looking like she’s going to have a panic attack the whole time. Then, she takes their cash and goes to give them change. The drawer pops open and the computer tells her to give back $12.53 in change.)

New Cashier: “Um… there are no tens.”

(I look at the drawer and then back at her for a second, hoping something clicks. I get a blank stare from her.)

Me: “Two fives make a ten.”

New Cashier: “Oh, yeah!” *giggle* “Duh!”

(She digs out the bills and then slowly starts counting the coins.)

Me: “You have too many pennies.”

New Cashier: “Oh!” *giggle*

(Later, I tell my manager — not the manager that hired her — what happened.)

Me: “Someone needs to explain to me why someone who can’t count change and can’t handle an ounce of pressure was hired for the area that handles the most cash and has the most pressure… and why she’s going to make more than me.”

Manager: “Yeah… someone’s going to need to explain that to me, too.”

(I always ask that cashiers do not bag my small purchases so that the plastic bag does not end up in the trash. I can’t count the number of times this has happened.)

Me: “No bag, please.”

(The cashier places my purchase in a bag.)

Me: “No, I don’t want a bag.”

(The cashier took my purchase out of the bag and then threw the bag in the trash.)

(There is a grocery store in town that does not allow customers to use their own bags. They also bag badly. I’ve come out of there with 12 items in 16 bags in the past. Today I bought about half a basket of stuff and sighed as the cashier bagged so many things one to a bag despite my protests.)

Me: “Wait. Please put both packages of meat in the same bag. This is getting ridiculous.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They aren’t two kinds of meat. They are both beef.”

Cashier: “One is hamburger. One is roast.”

Me: “Yes. One is ground beef and the other is a chunk of beef.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They are not two different kinds of meat. One is labeled ground chuck and the other is labeled chuck roast. They are both beef. They both come from cows.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t.”

Me: *totally surprised* “What? Of course they do. They are two cuts of beef, and beef is cow meat.”

Cashier: “Cows are for dairy.”

Me: “Cattle. Cows. Steers. Beef. Please just bag the meat together.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “Both kinds of meat came off the same animal.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t. We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

(I just stared at her in amazement. I’m not from here. My accent makes that clear. But she spoke with a very local accent. I live two miles out of town and five miles from this store. I had to pass three huge herds of cattle to get there. How could anyone from this area not know where beef/chuck/hamburger/roast comes from?)