I started my first retail job this week. I have worked other customer-facing jobs before, but this is the first one that’s explicitly retail. It took until my second shift to meet my first unreasonable customer — longer than I expected, to be honest.

I work at a clothing retailer, and I was manning the fitting rooms. We have a strict one-person-per-dressing-room policy (for loss prevention reasons), which we have clear signs about at the entrance.

A woman comes up with her teenage daughter. I greet them, ask how many items they have, grab a number, and lead them to the dressing room. The girl goes in and her mother attempts to follow.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but only one person can be in the fitting rooms at a time. You can take a seat here while your daughter tries on her clothes.”

Woman: “But I want to go in.”

Me: *Pointing to the sign* “I’m sorry, but this is the store policy.”

Woman: “But my daughter has anxiety. It is documented.”

Me: “It is beyond my power to make exceptions to this. However, I can radio my manager, and you are welcome to talk to them about this issue.”

Woman: “This is discriminative against mentally ill people, and I hope you know that!”

I still can’t do much, so I just tell her the same about it not being in my power to do anything about something that’s store policy. The daughter has already closed the door and I have other customers waiting for me, so I leave it at that.

A few minutes later, they leave, the daughter puts the clothes on the rail, and the mother comes up to me.

Woman: “Just so you know, this is very discriminative against the mentally ill. I expected better from this store.”

Me: “As I said previously, it is the store policy. However, you are more than welcome to discuss this with a manager.”

Woman: *Stepping well into my personal space* “NO, I don’t want that. I want you to feel bad about this.”

Me: “All right, have a great day.”

I work in a clothing store that sells off-season designer items that are considered surplus by the original brands, so we can sell them a little cheaper. This was a while ago, so I can’t remember the specific brand, so I’ll just go with Prada.

Customer: “Excuse me, these shoes are mislabeled.”

Me: “Oh? Let me see.”

I check the shoe, the description, and the price.

Me: “It all seems fine, ma’am. This is the correct label for the shoe.”

Customer: “But the label says Prada!”

Me: “Yes, these are Prada shoes.”

Customer: “But there’s no Prada on the shoe!”

Me: “Yes, there is.”

I show her the famous logo both inside the shoe and on the outsole — under the shoe.

Customer: “Yes, but it’s not on the outside of the shoe.”

Me: “Not for this particular model, ma’am.”

Customer: “So, no one will know that it’s Prada?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

Customer: “Ugh, then what’s the point?” *Storms off*

My best friend and I are shopping at a mall, and just for fun, we have decided to dress alike. We are both wearing black and purple Tripp pants and black tops.

We stop at an alternative clothing store for a bit and start browsing the back wall. Someone says, “Excuse me,” loudly, and [Friend] assumes they want the shirts he is currently standing in front of, so he moves to the side a bit. 

This is followed up by a louder, “Excuse me!” so he turns to see which section they’re trying to get to so that he can get out of their way.

Friend: “Am I blocking the shirts, or did you want these tops over here?”

Customer: “I need you to unlock the fitting area for me.”

[Friend] realizes what’s happening.

Friend: “Oh, sorry, I don’t work here. I think I saw an employee over by the anime stuff, though.”

Customer: “Are you sure you don’t work here?”

Friend: “Yes.”

Customer: “Because your coworker over there is wearing the exact same uniform as you.”

Friend: “Oh, she’s my bestie. We decided to match today because it makes people think we’re twins.”

Customer: “You’re a guy; she’s a girl.”

Friend: “Yeah, but people see the matching outfits and assume we are.”

Customer: “You’ve told this lie before, haven’t you?”

Friend: “It’s not a lie. We’re not employees here. Please leave us alone.”

The customer actually leaves, and we assume that’s the end of it. Unfortunately, it is not.

About ten minutes later, the customer comes over with an employee in tow and points us both out.

Customer: “Them. They told me some bulls*** story about them being twins.”

Employee: “Uhh, they aren’t employees here. I think they’re matching because they really are twins.”

Customer: “They can’t be twins. They’re not both boys or girls.”

I have a mental “WTF” moment.

Employee: “I can’t do anything if people want to dress alike in our stores. I’d be happy to help you find what you’re looking for today.”

Finally, the employee is able to corral the customer away from us.

Friend: “Twins now have to be the same sex?”

Me: “Dude, I told you the public school system here sucks. But hey, next time, you could cross-dress.”

My big sister is getting married and she wants me to go clothes shopping. We have a “can’t live with each other, can’t live without” relationship, but things go amazingly well between us that day… except the shopping itself. I am plus-sized — too big for “regular” clothes and too thin for the “special plus-sized stores” — and they just don’t have anything decent in my size.

I enter a boutique, and the lady behind the counter immediately states:

Employee: *Bluntly* “We don’t have anything for you here. Nothing will fit you.”

She doesn’t bother to ask about my size. After a few checks (we are desperate at that moment), nothing seems to fit, and we leave.

After seven — SEVEN — hours of shopping with no luck, we enter a store that has easy access to the mall that is attached to the train station. We just plan on going through the store, especially since it is fifteen minutes before closing.

Sister: “Wait, they have dresses here. Let me check real quick.”

I am depressed by now, but sure, let’s check things out. We end up in the cocktail dresses section.

Sister: “They have your size!”

We hurry as fast as we can, looking through the dresses, and we find a nice one. I rush into the dressing room, and other than being super long, the dress fits!

Saleslady: “Excuse me.”

We are worried the lady is going to ask us to leave, but she would have every right to.

Saleslady: “I just wanted to say that if Miss comes over here, she can have a better look at the dress. Oh, and a seamstress can easily make it shorter for you. Oh, and it’s on sale today; I thought you might want to know that.”

We still hurried, and after a thumbs-up from my sister, we got the dress. My mother had an education as a seamstress, so with joy, she shortened the dress for us.

My family thought I was completely overdressed for the wedding, but since I received a thumb of approval from the bride herself, I couldn’t care less and felt pretty for the first time in my life. The store no longer exists, but I still remember the warmth that the saleslady gave me. Even if she just did it for a sale, just let me keep my warm fuzzies.

My job is to stand in front of the store and greet people and hand them coupons. A guy walks up and I say hello to him while handing him a coupon. He looks at me like I have a booger coming out of my nose.

Customer: “Get a real job.”

It turns out that while he is paying, he realizes it was a good coupon and that he wants it. He comes back up to me just as I have finished my shift.

Customer: “Give me a coupon.”

Me: “Sorry, I’m off to go get a real job.”

I walked away, clearly holding a stack of coupons but not giving him one. He complained, but my manager is awesome and backed me up.