My awesome manager is leaving, and it’s his last week. We are chatting about it when a customer asks about a product. My manager checks the system.

Manager: “It looks like that’s out of stock, I’m afraid, but we can order it in—”

Customer: “Check the back.”

Manager: “Well, we don’t really have much back there that—”

Customer: “Check the back! I want you to check!”

Me: *To my manager* “It’s okay, I will have a quick look.”

I do this to appease the customer, as we both know she won’t back down otherwise. I make a quick visual scan of the room and come back out to inform the customer that we don’t have it.

Customer: “You were too quick! You possibly couldn’t have checked the entire back!”

I open the door to “the back.”

Me: “Ma’am, that is the entirety of our ‘back’. It’s twenty square feet. All stock we receive goes straight to the shelves.”

And then this woman, who doesn’t work here, suggests something to me, who has worked here for over two years.

Customer: “Are you sure it doesn’t go around the corner?”

Manager: “Ma’am, it’s not the warehouse from Indiana Jones! Your size six Crocs are not hiding behind the ark of the covenant! Now, either let us order it in for you or leave!” 

She left, and I was reminded once again how much I am going to miss that manager.

Customer: “This dress in size twelve is $80.” 

Me: “That’s right.”

Customer: “But the size six is also $80?”

Me: “That’s right.”

Customer: “Shouldn’t it be half the price, since it’s half the size?”

Me: “That’s not how it works, ma’am.”

Customer: “No! I got a B in math at high school, so you can’t trick me! I know six is half of twelve!”

Me: “That’s not what I am referring to, ma’am. Dress sizing isn’t priced like that.”

Customer: “Get me your manager! You’re just not getting it.”

I call my manager and the customer makes the same complaint.

Manager: “Ma’am, [My Name] is correct. The dresses are all the same price regardless of size.”

Customer: “Did none of you do math in school?! The size six dress should be half the price of the size twelve!”

Manager: “Very well, ma’am. The price of the size twelve is now $160.”

Customer: “What?! You just doubled it!”

Manager: “Yes, and the size six is now half the price of the size twelve, as you demanded.”

Customer: “But… I…”

Manager: “Cash or card?”

She chose neither cash nor card but exit.

A woman with her pre-teen daughter comes to the counter carrying two dresses.

Customer: “This dress comes in black and white, but the black one costs more than the white one.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. They are priced differently by corporate.”

Customer: “Well, isn’t that a little racist?”

Customer’s Daughter: “Mom! The dress costs the most in blue, though! What’re you gonna do, tell the Smurfs?” 

Thanks for being the voice of reason, young lady!

Our new store manager is an awful human being. He’s arrogant, bigoted, angry, and vengeful; he’s just a terrible, tiny little man with a complex against the whole world.

I am serving a customer who is trying on some shoes.

Customer: “Hmm, do you have these in size eight or nine?”

Me: “We should do! I’ll just go and check!”

I turn to head to the back room, and [Store Manager] is standing at the end of the aisle.

Store Manager: “Did you just say, ‘We should do,’ to a customer?”

Me: “…yes?”

Store Manager: “What makes you think that is an acceptable way to speak to a customer?”

Me: “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Store Manager: “So, you’re stupid as well as unprofessional? Your customers are not your buddies! They’re not your mates! You should say, ‘We do have those in stock,’ or, ‘We do not.’ None of this stupid ‘We should do’ nonsense!”

Me: “But I don’t know the stock off the top of my head. I—”

Store Manager: “And why is that?!”

Before I can answer, there is a loud throat-clearing sound, and we both turn to see another customer — an older woman — standing near us.

Older Customer: “I see you’re still being a miserable c**t, [Store Manager].”

Store Manager: *Going red* “I… You…”

Suddenly, I see something I have never seen happen before. [Store Manager] visibly deflates, and he calmly speaks to me.

Store Manager: “Just get back to work.”

I do so, happy to get away from that terrible interaction.

I finish up with my current customer and get the sale. After my next customer, the older woman approaches me.

Older Customer: “Don’t worry about [Store Manager], dear. I told him what an absolute p*ll*ck he was being. I don’t think he’ll change, but he won’t be punishing you for embarrassing him.”

Me: “Thank… you? I’m sorry, I have to ask, but who are you?”

Older Customer: “Oh! I’m the poor woman who gave birth that sorry sod, and I make it a point to come to every shop where I know he’s working and remind him how to be a human being to those unfortunate enough to work under him. All I have to do is turn up and wait five minutes, and he’s never let me down.”

Me: “I… see.”

Older Customer: “Anyway! Best of luck! If he keeps acting like a p***k, just say you’ll tell his mummy about him. That usually works! Toodles!”

And with that, she headed out with her purchase, which I don’t even think she needed. The store manager was a lot more amenable after that!

A father is buying some clothes for his younger teenage daughter, and his nine- or ten-year-old son is with them. He really wants a Pokémon cap that we sell near the checkouts.

Little Boy: “Daaaad! I want this!”

Father: “No, we’re not here for that, and you have too many hats anyway.”

Little Boy: “But [Sister] is getting so many things! I can’t have one thing?”

Father: “Shush, [Son]. I said no.”

Little Boy: “You motherf*****!”

Father: “Where did you hear that word?! It was from Simon wasn’t it?! You are not to hang out with that boy ever again!”

Teenage Daughter: “But, Dad, to us, you are one of those.”

There is a pause, and then the poor exasperated father turns to me.

Father: “Never have kids. They find loopholes in everything.”

Me: “Oh, too late for me; I have a seven-year-old. He told me he didn’t have to dry the dishes last week because ‘that’s air’s job.’ It’s my own fault as I bought him a science book!”

The father and I both laughed — a funny shared parent moment. That boy was grounded for a week, though!