(The return policy at my shoe store does not accept any shoes that have been worn. A customer and his two children come in to return a pair of shoes. I open the box and see the son’s shoes covered in mud and dirt; they have obviously been worn.)

Me: “I am sorry, but I cannot accept these shoes because they have been worn.”

Customer: “My son has never worn these shoes.”

(I hold up a shoe covered in mud.)

Me: “Sir, these shoes have mud on them. I cannot accept worn shoes.”

Customer: “My son has not worn these shoes!”

(This exchange continues for some time, with him consistently denying his son has worn the shoes. Meanwhile, his son is cheerfully telling all the places he has worn the shoes.)

Son: “Daddy, I wore the shoes to grandma’s house!”

Son: “Daddy, I wore the shoes to the zoo!”

(And so on. The customer completely ignores his son and eventually storms out. He takes his “unworn” shoes with him. However, there are an elderly gentleman and his wife who have heard the entire exchange.)

Gentleman: “If I wore these shoes to the zoo, could I return them?”

(I told him that although it was against the policy, I would let him!)

(I work in an outdoor clothing retail store that uses a hand-written chalkboard for our sidewalk sign. The sale has just changed this morning and, being in a rush to also change all the interior signs, and all the regular opening duties, I don’t go back to spell-check my sign. I normally have decent spelling so I’m not too worried about it. It gets busy right away and I am already trying to help five to six people when this older lady comes in — probably in her 70s — and just kind of stands near me while I am talking to another customer. I make eye contact and smile to acknowledge her and finish up with the customer I am helping.)

Me: “Do you need a hand with anything or have any questions?”

Older Lady: “Did you know your sign is spelled wrong?”

Me: *pauses* “Oh?”

Older Lady: “Yes, your sign is spelled wrong! The word ‘reduced’ is spelt with a C, not an S!”

Me: *already slightly annoyed because she is wasting my time when I have other customers who actually need my help* “Sorry about that. I will take a look and fix it when I have a moment.”

Older Lady: “You’d better fix it! It’s offensive to those of us who can actually spell!”

Me: *internally rolling my eyes* “Yes, I will fix it. Have a good day!”

(I turned away to help another customer before she could say anything else. She stomped out of the store probably thinking she had done her “good deed” for the day by saving us all from poor spelling. All I could think about while she was being so offended by our sign was how little she must know of what is going on in the world if an incorrectly spelled word is what she finds offensive. And next time? All it would take is a polite “Excuse me? Do you know your sign has a spelling error? Just letting you know,” versus practically throwing a tantrum in my store.)

(We have a small shelf near the cash registers with a few candies and juice boxes and all that. One day, when I’m working at the register, a lady comes charging up to me.)

Customer: *very angry* “LETTUCE JUUUICE!” 

Me: *gives confused expression* “Sorry, ma’am, what?”

Customer: *now triggered* “LETTUCE JUICE! WHERE’S MY LETTUCE JUUUUUICCEEE?!” 

Me: *thinking she’s talking about the shelf, I point to it* “Erm, ma’am—”

Customer: *slaps my hand* “NOOOO! LETTUCE JUICE!”

(I now give up and let her keep going.)

Customer: “LETTUCE JUICE! This is ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE! I’m calling corporate!” *storms out of store*

(I’ve never actually figured what she was trying to say.)

A group of friends and I are into the alternative fashion style — big boots, Gothic dresses, lace, and corsets. We go into a popular high street store as I am getting married and we need some classy, normal-style dresses for bridesmaid dresses.

As soon as we walk into the shop, we are watched by a member of the staff who stands glaring at us from the counter. Whenever we pick up a dress to look at it, she moves closer to us, glaring. Keep in mind that there are six in the group in different sizes all looking to get the same style of dress. She doesn’t offer to help, stops other staff from helping us, and just stands there glaring.

We find dresses in the same style that can fit all six and go and ask to try them on. She snatches the dresses from our hands says, “These won’t suit you or even fit, and I doubt you can afford them, either.” These dresses cost £75 each and there are six of us. I am paying for them all and in cash. I was prepared to pay out over £500 for all of the dresses, so I have this cash on me.

I pulled the cash out, show the staff member, and say, “You mean this money?” Her whole attitude changes and she becomes very helpful. We all exchange a look. I say, “Because of your poor customer service we have changed our mind,” and we just walk out, leaving her to put away six dresses. If she had been nicer and less suspicious of us, she would have made a big sale.

(I work in a preteen girl’s clothing store in a yuppie neighborhood. It’s my second week on the job and I’m still learning the ropes. We’re each assigned “stations” and there’s always supposed to be one girl on register and another at the front of the store in case of shoplifters trying to sweep the front table. A middle-aged man walks into the store and straight up to the sales counter.)

Customer: “I need you to take the alarm thingy out of my daughter’s swimsuit; you left it in when she got it last week.”

Coworker: “Really? Wow, that’s so weird. Did the alarm not go off when you left the store?

Customer: “No, it went off, but the woman at the register said not to worry about it.”

Coworker: “Okay, well, can I see the suit?”

Customer: “My daughter has it. She’s outside; she doesn’t want to set off the alarm again.”

Coworker: “I can’t remove the sensor without the swimsuit, sir.”

Customer: “Can’t you just go outside and take it off?”

Coworker: “Store policy says that there have to be at least two people inside the shop at all times, sir; if I went outside, then [My Name] would be the only person on the floor and I could get fired.”

Customer: “It’ll be like five minutes. Seriously, just come outside.”

Coworker: “[My Name], could you ask that girl to come inside? Tell her not to worry about the alarm.”

Customer: “No, it’s fine. Just go take the sensor thing off and we can get out of your hair already, God.”

Me: *beginning to get suspicious* “Um, hey, can you come inside so we can fix your swimsuit? It’s okay, we know the alarm will go off, but don’t worry about it.”

Girl: *standing about four feet away from the doors* “But my dad told me to wait outside…”

Me: “We really can’t help you if you don’t come in.” *to her father* “Sir, we can’t leave the premises unless another person is here to man the counter; she really does need to come inside for us to help.”

Customer: “FINE. God, this is such a f****** hassle. I just want you to take the g**d*** sensor off; it’s not such a big deal!”

(He storms outside, drags his daughter in, pulls the swimsuit bottoms out of her hands, and throws it at my coworker, who is staring at him in disbelief.)

Coworker: “Okay, can I see the receipt?”

Customer: *coldly* “I don’t have it.”

Coworker: *trying to avoid another scene* “Okay, that’s fine. Do you have the credit card you used to purchase it?”

Customer: “NO. NO, I DO NOT HAVE THE CREDIT CARD. My girlfriend bought this for her a week ago, she didn’t notice the sensor was still in, they left, and now I need to get the f****** sensor out so that my daughter can actually use the f****** thing.”

Coworker: “I think I should get my manager from the back. [My Name], could you take the register for a few seconds?”

(I push away the folding table I am using and come up front, where the customer is glaring daggers at both of us.)

Customer: “So, you can go in the backroom when you can’t go outside for five f****** seconds?”

Me: “I know that it sounds a little weird, but the huge difference between the two situations is that in one of them, our manager is aware of what’s going on and can fix it if something happens.”

Customer: “Fine. Whatever. How long is this going to be?!”

(The manager comes out, followed by my coworker.)

Manager: “Thanks, [My Name], you can go back to your station.”

(I walk back up front, keeping an eye on the counter in case they need me again.)

Manager: “Sir, I understand that you just want the sensor removed, but according to store policy, we are not allowed to take it off without either the credit card or receipt—”

Customer: “Listen here, you b****, I have a policy, too, and my policy is that you are going to take that f****** thing off right now and I won’t lodge a complaint with your boss.”

Manager: “Sir, I am the boss.”

Customer: “With your boss.”

Manager: “Sir, I am the boss. I am in charge of all of the [Brand] stores in this county, and the only time that I am not the absolute boss on these premises is when the regional manager of the company comes by, which is once per quarter.”

Customer: “Then you can change your dumba** policy and take this off.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t.”

Customer: “Then I want to exchange this piece of s***.”

Manager: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I want to exchange this swimsuit for another one.” *points at a random suit* “That one, right there.”

Manager: “Sir, you only brought in the bottom half of the swimsuit. If you bring back the full suit as well as the original receipt, I would be happy to help you exchange the two.”

Customer: “No, I want to exchange it now.”

Manager: “I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir. I can’t give you a whole swimsuit for half of one.”

Customer: “Then give me half. I’ll exchange these bottoms for those bottoms.”

Manager: “They’re only sold as the set, sir. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, unless you intend to buy something.”

Customer: “You fat-a** [gay slurs] are what’s wrong with this f****** country. I’m going to call the owner of this company and lodge a formal complaint against you. Enjoy your last few days on the job. [Daughter], get your a** over here; we’re leaving.”

Manager: *waits until the doors have closed behind him* “[Coworker], will you please call [Neighboring Clothing Store]? The number is listed by the phone. We need to let them know that a shoplifter is headed their way to get a sensor illegally removed. [My Name], you saw all of that, right? Now you know exactly what kind of person we’re trying to watch out for here.”