I work at a large clothing store. Please note that I’m a tall woman with very short hair.

(middle-aged woman comes up to help desk)
Me: How can I help you, Ma’am?
Her: Excuse me, but…it’s embarrassing. Can I please talk to a woman?
Me: I can help you, in that c-
Her: No, I need a woman.
Me: Ma’am, I am a woman.
Her: No you’re not! Stop trying to butt into this!
Me: Ma’am, listen to my voice. Does this sound like a man’s voice?
Her: HELP! I HAVE A PERVERT HERE!
(store manager comes over)
Manager: Excuse me, ma’am?
Her: (pointing to me) He’s trying to creep on me when I said I only want a woman to help me!
Manager: First of all, that “he” that you’re talking about is a she. Second, she wasn’t creeping on you, she was just trying to help you with your problem. And third, she told you that she was a woman numerous times. Why did you not believe her, if you don’t mind me asking?
Her: I…uh….well…*lost for words*
Me: NOW can I help you, Ma’am?
Her: Y-yes, of course!

(As it turns out, she was trying to find out how to get her daughter’s period stains out of her clothes.)

(I’m nineteen, but I look no more than sixteen. I run a cash register in a department store. A young mother pushing a stroller comes up to make her purchase. Her child, roughly a year old, is sound asleep in the stroller.)

Me: “Boy, I’d love to be doing that, myself.”

Woman: *look of shock and disgust* “Having KIDS?!”

Me: “Sleeping.”

Woman: “Oh.”

(I am a manager for this store which sells clothing for “mature” women, so we get a lot of older customers. Today’s customer is an elderly woman with her daughter that my coworker is ringing through, while I am standing beside her bagging and keeping an eye on things.)

Customer: *holding jacket* “How much is this?”

Coworker: “That is $99.95.”

Customer: “I thought it was $50!”

Coworker: *scans the jacket just in case* “No, sorry, it’s $99.95, and it says so on the tag, see?”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll buy it, anyway.”

(Everything else goes fine from there, and the customer leaves. A few hours later I get a phone call.)

Me: “[Workplace], [My Name], how can I help you?”

Customer: “It’s [Customer]…”

Me: “Hi! Yes, I remember you from earlier. Is everything okay?”

Customer: “Do you enjoy stealing from old ladies?”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: “That jacket says $50 on the tag, and you charged me $100! You stole from me! I want you to send me a cheque for $50!

Me: “All right, I remember my coworker telling you it was $99.95, but let me just check the tags on the other ones to see if any say they’re $49.95.”

(All the jackets are $99.95, and they aren’t on clearance, so they can’t have been marked otherwise, and nothing displayed around them is $49.95, either.)

Me: “Sorry for the confusion, but they’re all marked $99.95, and you seemed okay with that price when you purchased it from [Coworker]. If you’d like, you can bring it back and I will check the price tag on yours and refund the difference if it is marked cheaper.”

Customer: “Is [Coworker] there now? I want to speak to her!”

(My coworker’s shift has ended, but only just, and she is watching me on the phone. I don’t want her to have to stay behind talking to some unreasonable old lady.)

Me: “Sorry, she’s left for the day.”

Customer: “I don’t believe you!”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but her shift ended at [time] and she is no longer here. As I said before, you’re welcome to bring it back and I can sort it out for you.”

Customer: “I live in a retirement home! I can’t just come back!”

Me: “Can the lady you were with today bring it back on your behalf?”

Customer: “No! She’s gone back to [Town two hours away]! You’re going to mail me a cheque for $50!”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that without seeing the price tag and checking everything myself. I can’t just send you $50.”

Customer: “You send me that cheque or I’m going to go to the authorities!”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Customer: *hangs up*

(I never saw her again, and never saw any police, either!)

(At my store, we don’t do holds. I ring up a woman and her total comes to $150.)

Customer: “My husband has my wallet, but he’s walking towards the store. Can I leave my stuff here while I go get it?”

Me: “Yes. We don’t normally do this, but because your husband is walking towards the store, we will.”

(I go on break four hours later, and they haven’t come back yet. My manager insists I put all her stuff back, so I do. Come ten pm, when the store is closing, the couple comes back angry that I put stuff away.)

Customer: “You didn’t say you had a time limit!”

Me: “Well, it’s been six hours, and you told me your husband was walking!”

(She walked around and gathered everything together but didn’t let me ring her up just to be petty.)

(I work at a high-end fast fashion retailer in downtown Boston. I answer the phone.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [Store].”

Caller: “Do you have winter coats?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “What are they made of?”

Me: “What are you looking for?”

Caller: “Corduroy.”

Me: “We have a cord blazer.”

Caller: “How much is it?”

Me: “$198.”

Caller: “No tax?”

Me: “It’s 6.25% on the amount above $175.”

Caller: “I thought clothes were tax-free in Massachusetts?”

Me: “It’s a luxury tax on the amount above $175.”

Caller: “Oh. What about food?”

Me: “I don’t know; I’m not in the food service industry.”