This Doesn’t Make Sense! Or Pence!

, , , , , , , | Working | August 19, 2020

I had just finished work and was filling up my car at the nearby petrol station. Having filled up, I went into the shop. I grabbed a chocolate bar and proceeded to give it to the cashier to begin my transaction. With the petrol and chocolate bar, the total came to £40.14.

I gave the cashier two £20 notes and 40 pence, made up of a 10 pence and 4 pence — two pence coins.

The cashier took the money and tried to give me £1.00 change.

I explained that I didn’t need the change as I had given the total amount and thus no change was needed.

Three times I went round in a circle trying to explain basic maths to a cashier. She just couldn’t seem to grasp it.

In the end, the cashier put the change back in the till but looked very confused. Perhaps I should have just taken the extra £1.00, but I don’t like to be dishonest. I just couldn’t understand why the cashier did not understand basic maths.

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Sometimes, The Customer Is Right. Really.

, , , , , | Working | August 14, 2020

I have had cashiers crush my bread when bagging. To avoid this, I make sure to put my groceries in a certain order on the belt.

Today, the cashier started rearranging my stuff.

Me: “Um… please bag it in the order I put it down.”

Cashier: *Rolls her eyes* “It’s better this way.”

Me: “But I prefer it the other way.”

Cashier: *Muttering* “Crazy customers…”

I gave up and just rebagged it as I transferred it to the cart. She complained that I was holding up the line.

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Hooray, Casual Racism!

, , , , , , | Working | August 6, 2020

Cashier: “Oh, this must be wrong.”

Me: “Why, is it not going through?”

Cashier: “No, it is. But it says you’re using food stamps. You can’t be on food stamps. You’re white!”

Me: “…”

I went home and told my husband, who happens to be half-black. He was furious, to say the least, and said that I should have complained.

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Can I Return This Judgy Cashier, Please?

, , , , , | Working | July 15, 2020

I receive an iced tea pitcher and a lemonade pitcher as gifts, but as I don’t drink either iced tea or lemonade, I opt to return them. They are both from the same store and have a gift receipt so I figure it will be easy.

Me: “I need to return these, please. Here are the gift receipts. Cash would be ideal, but store credit is okay.”

Cashier: “Why are you returning them?”

Me: “Oh, there’s nothing with them. I just don’t have any use for them.”

Cashier: “Well, if they’re working fine, why return them?”

Me: “Because I don’t want them.”

Cashier: “But why not just donate them?”

Me: “But I have the gift receipt right here.”

Cashier: “Isn’t it a little selfish to return a gift?”

After a pause to make sure I really heard that, I say:

Me: “I need to return these. Now.”

Cashier: *Grumbling* “Okay, but you could just donate them.”

This was years ago; I can’t remember if I was able to get cash or store credit, but I did get the full value indicated by the gift receipt for whichever option I was able to do.

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That’s One Way To Unplug His Batteries

, , , , , , , | Working | July 14, 2020

My part of the world gets very cold in the winter, and I recently splurged on a pair of battery-powered gloves. When they’re switched on, they give off a small blue light.  

I am shopping for groceries and groan inwardly when I see my cashier. He’s a nice guy, but he never. Stops. Talking. I’ve learned to just nod and smile and give the occasional, “You got that right!” or “I know!”. Even if I wanted to engage in conversation, he’d never give me a chance to get a word in edgewise, anyway.

Cashier: “Blah blah blah.”

Me: “You bet.”

Cashier: “Blah blah blah.”

Me: “Ain’t that the truth?”

Cashier: “Blah— What’s that?!

Me: “You said it— Wait, what’s what?”

Cashier: “THAT!”

He points accusingly at the lights on my gloves.


Me: “No! Those are my gloves. They’re battery-powered.”

He glares at me suspiciously. 

Cashier: “Really? You’re not one of those secret shoppers?”

Me: “No!”

He conducted the rest of my transaction in complete silence.

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