(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?)

(I’ve ordered a pair of shoes to be delivered to the store and have brought up the invoice email on my phone, ready to give them the order code.)

Cashier: *scowling* “I’m not serving you if you are on your phone.”

Me: “I’m not on my phone; I have it open to—“

Cashier: *interrupting* “You young people are so rude — no manners. I’m not serving you until you put the phone away.”

Me: *smiles politely and puts my phone in my pocket*

Cashier: “Now, how can I help you?”

Me: “I’m here to pick up an online order.”

Cashier: “Well, I need to see the order number?”

Me: “Let me just get that for you.” *reaches for my phone in my pocket*

(Her face fell as she realised that that was my intention at the start of the conversation.)

(I am in a liquor store purchasing some items for me and my fiancée. We have been on a hard iced tea kick lately, and the store has a “make your own six pack” special going. I build a six pack and also grab two boxes of packaged drinks. The cashier looks to be a man in his late forties or early fifties. The economy has been terrible in my province lately, and I speculate to myself that he’s been laid off from a previous job and has taken this to make ends meet.)

Cashier: “Hi there. How are you today?”

Me: “Fine, thanks. How are you?”

Cashier: “Oh, not too bad. This is everything for you?”

Me: “Yes, thanks.”

(He picks up one of the sealed packaged boxes, scans it, sets it to the side, and then notices my pick-your-own set. He immediately looks nervous.)

Cashier: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not totally sure why, but we’re supposed to scan those ones first; I think it’s so you get the discount. I’ll need a supervisor to start the transaction again.”

Me: “No problem.”

(The cashier tries to flag down the supervisor on duty, who is chatting with other customers, assumedly family or friends as she is holding their baby and they are all laughing. She is totally oblivious that the cashier needs her.)

Cashier: “I’m so sorry. I’m new and I don’t have the authority to override.”

Me: “It’s no problem, really.”

(He keeps waving and calling her. Still no response. He turns to me looking nervous.)

Me: “I have nowhere else to be. Honestly, it’s okay.”

(Finally, the supervisor notices the line not moving. She comes over and voids the transaction so he can start again.)

Cashier: “Thanks for your patience. Some of these systems just… They’re a bit difficult.”

Me: “New jobs are always tough. You’re doing great. Thank you for making sure I got my discount. I hope to see you again!”

Cashier: “Thank you so much. Have a great day.”

(The poor guy. I wonder if other customers had been hard on him or if he was just nervous that he would do a poor job. A job is a job these days; I commend anyone who has to take a less paying job to make ends meet after being laid off. I hope he’s had a better experience since that day!)