I was shopping at a Canadian department store back in the 1990s. There was an entire floor for men’s clothes. I think there was a cash register at each stairwell, and customers were supposed to pay when they left the floor

I picked out some clothes to buy and went to the cash register. There was nobody there. Not a big deal. I headed to another cash register and kept an eye out for somebody stocking shelves.

There was nobody at the second cash register either. I thought, “Salespeople must be out on the floor. I will just have to find somebody to take my money.”

Eventually, I realized I had spent a lot of time wandering around the menswear floor, carrying around some clothes, and trying to find somebody to take money away from me.

I eventually started to get frustrated, but at that point, I had invested a lot of effort in these clothes and I didn’t want to abandon them.

I eventually noticed that there were other men on the floor doing the same thing — desperately searching for somebody to take money from us.

Finally, it was spontaneous. We all just threw the clothes in a pile on the floor and left.

The very worst customer service is not being there to take the customer’s money.

Customer: “I want to buy some jeans.”

My colleague helps her try on some different styles and the customer chooses a pair that fits nicely. She then starts to use a pendulum above the pair of jeans.

Customer: “I can’t buy them if their vibrations are off!”

A customer approaches me in the underwear section.

Customer: “Can I try on some different sizes of bras?”

Me: “Well, we have a fitting service if you’d like to get the best sizing—”

Customer: “No, it’s not that. I’m going to get some new boobs, and I want to get a feel for the size options!”

Me: “Oh! Well… I mean, you can certainly try them on, but we don’t have any… uh… padding?”

Customer: “Oh!”

She opens her bag and shows me a selection of what I can only guess are different sized… cleavage expanders?

Customer: “I got that part covered!”

I bring her eight different sizes, and she seems satisfied when she leaves.

A few months later, I have almost forgotten about this woman, but she reappears at the store and stands in front of me, smiling.

Customer: “Remember me? I made my choice!”

She jiggled her (much larger) boobs in front of me and departed as quickly as she’d come, leaving me to apologize and explain to the (rightfully confused) customers I was currently serving.

Related:
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 12
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 11
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 10
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 9
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 8

As any clothes shopper will know, sizes can change dramatically between brands. This can be frustrating to certain types of shoppers who equate their self-worth to their clothing size.

A woman storms up to my counter near the changing rooms.

Customer: “Your clothes are all wrong!”

Me: “What do you mean, ma’am?”

Customer: “I just tried these on and they’re too tight, but they’re a size four!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, our sizing can—”

Customer: “Look at me! I’m a two at most! Probably even a zero!”

Me: “Well, we don’t do size zero here, ma’am.”

Customer: “What are you going to do about this?”

Me: “Well, sizing can change between brands, so if you tried one size up maybe you’d—”

Customer: “Excuse me? Did you just call me fat?”

Me: *Internal sigh* “No, ma’am.”

Customer: “Good! Because you’re the fat cow here, not me!”

At this point, I call my manager over because I am not dealing with this kind of evil on minimum wage.

Manager: “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Customer: “Your oversized beached whale over there called me fat! Me! I am clearly a size zero!”

My manager looks over at me questioningly.

Me: “I suggested she try a size bigger if the clothes she’s tried on are too tight.”

Manager: *Back to the customer* “How is that practical suggestion an excuse to shout and call my staff names?”

Customer: “Practical? It’s an insult! I stay thin to look amazing, and your stupid clothes are undoing all my effort!”

Manager: “Ma’am, sizing can be complicated. People can look amazing in any size of clothing, and our range reflects that. Your opinion on what size you think looks good on you doesn’t give you the right to be unkind to my staff.”

Customer: “It’s not my opinion! It’s a fact.” 

Manager: “No, ma’am, it’s not.”

Customer: “Whatever. I look amazing, and that’s a fact. You’re all a bunch of worthless fat people, and that’s a fact, too!”

Manager: “Actually, that’s an opinion, and that’s your opinion. My opinion is that you’re the ugliest person I have ever met. What is a fact is that you’re banned from this store and no longer welcome.”

She cusses up a storm but does finally leave. My manager asks me if I’m okay and I say I am. 

Manager: “Don’t worry about her. She’s just cranky because we’re capable of being happy in our skin and she’s jealous.”

Customer: “Where are your Diesel jeans?”

Me: “We don’t sell Diesel jeans.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “This is a Levi’s.”

Customer: “Yeah, Levi’s jeans.”

Me: “Exactly.”

Customer: “So, where are the Diesels?”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s another brand. We only sell our brand, Levi’s.”

Customer: “Wait, Levi’s is a brand?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “I thought it was just another name for jeans.”

Me: “Yeah, I get that, too; sometimes a brand name becomes the word we use for a product, like Band-Aid.”

Customer: “But… all Band-Aids are just… Band-Aids!”

Me: “Well, no, but most people will know what you mean when you ask for one. As for this store, though, I’m afraid we only sell Levi jeans, not anything else.”

Customer: “I don’t like the way you just spoke to me. You’re implying I’m stupid because I mixed up a brand name.”

Me: “Not at all, ma’am! I do it all the time, too! I say I’m going to Xerox something when I know I should say ‘photocopy’.”

Customer: “Well, that’s even more stupid! I don’t use a brand as a verb!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to imply anything.” 

Customer: “Good! Now where is the Diesel store? Can you Google it?”