I am queueing at a small convenience store (known colloquially as a “corner shop” here in the UK), and I notice that the man in front of me is holding an almost full-size MIDI keyboard. This thing is like the piano keyboards you’d learn on in a school music class, and he’s holding it balanced on his foot with the power lead in his hand.

I figure he’s a student at the local college and perhaps doesn’t have any better way of transporting his instrument around. The customer in front of him pays and leaves, and it’s Piano Man’s turn.

Cashier: “How may I help?”

Piano Man: “How would I send this?” *Holding up the keyboard*

Cashier: “You can pay for the postage at the self-service machine in the corner, over there.”

These are tills managed by the courier company; you weigh/measure your item, pay the fee, and it prints a label.

Piano Man: “Ah… I just send it here?”

The way he gestures to the machine using the piano is enough for both the cashier and me to realise the same thing at the same time. This isn’t a general inquiry; he’s come to send the piano via courier. Right now.

Cashier: “Are you returning it? Do you have the box and a return label already?”

Piano Man: “Somebody has bought it on eBay; I am sending it.”

Cashier: *Dumbfounded* “Uh, you can’t send it like that. It needs packing into a box.”

Piano Man: “No, I have sold it. I am sending it to the buyer.”

Cashier: “Yes, but you can’t send it like that. It will almost certainly be damaged. It’s also raining, so it might get wet on its journey.”

Piano Man: “Don’t you have boxes I can use?”

The cashier looks at the three-foot-long keyboard.

Cashier: “We don’t have any boxes that size. You’ll have to find a box and pack it yourself.”

The Piano Man responds with a vacant expression.

Cashier: “The person who has bought it on eBay — have they paid for ‘Postage and Packing’?”

The Piano Man smiles like the cashier has finally gotten it.

Piano Man: “Yes!”

Cashier: “Then they’ve paid for ‘packing’… You have to supply the packing.”

Piano Man: *Confused* “Okay… Thanks.”

Who knows if he ever packed it properly? I hope the keyboard arrived safely at its new home!

I’m fairly new at a job where members of law enforcement come in to fuel up their vehicles and themselves. This is at the height of the time when wearing masks seems like a very good idea, but many of them seem to feel that they don’t need to mask up. In appreciation for one of the officers that do wear a mask, I offer him a package of day-old donuts on the house.

Officer: “Do you think just because I’m a cop, I like donuts?”

I pause in embarrassment, having not even thought about the connection.

Me: “I… thought everybody liked donuts.”

He chuckles and accepts. The next night, he comes back in and purchases a package of the same donuts.

Officer: “I think you may have me addicted to these.”

I’m working in a convenience store. A bunch of teens come into the store, stare at the wall of vape sticks and flavor packs, and then head outside without buying anything. A guy pulls in and gets some gas, and they approach him. They talk for a moment, and then the guy comes in to pay for his gas.

Customer: “Also let me get one of those — what was it — cherry vape stick things.”

Me: “I can’t sell that to you, sir.”

Customer: “I’m over twenty-one!”

Me: “Sir, I have reason to believe you’re buying for those teenagers out there.”

Customer: “Well, duh! Do I look like I smoke—” *reads the label* “—Cherry Pop Surprise vape sticks?!”

Me: “Have a good night, sir.”

We had a customer who shoplifted from us enough times that we caught it on camera. As a result, the customer got banned from the store, and a sign was placed near the checkout with the camera footage screen capture of him stealing, saying, “BANNED!

I spot the customer coming back in one day, and I shout at him immediately.

Me: “Leave now! You’re banned!”

Customer: “What the h***?! You can’t ban me!”

Me: “You’ve stolen from us before. You’re no longer allowed to shop here.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah? Prove it!”

I point to the “BANNED” sign behind me.

Customer: “That wasn’t me! That guy has a beard!”

Me: “But you both have the same arm tattoo.”

Customer: “People can have the same tattoo!”

Me: “The same three arm tattoos in the same three places?”

Customer: “You must think you’re so smart!”

Me: “It doesn’t take much to outsmart some, sir.”

I’m behind the wheel and feeling thirsty. I’m approaching a chain convenience store with no gas station attached. I’ve driven past it plenty of times, but I’ve never stopped there before. Attached to the street lights in their mostly empty parking lot are signs promoting their signature fountain drink size for only 99 cents. This chain of convenience stores has names for each size — Big, Super Big, Double — and their sign clearly shows a cup with “Big” emblazoned on it.

I go inside, grab a cup, fill it with my beverage of choice, and head to the counter. On the wall behind the counter is another one of these same signs: “99-Cent Big [Drink]!” The cashier rings me up, and just as I’m about to pay, I notice the total on the register. 

Me: “Excuse me, but why is the price $1.93? They’re 99 cents. You’ve even got a sign behind you that says so.”

I helpfully point at the sign that’s within arm’s reach of her.

Cashier: “Yeah, we’re not doing that anymore. You still getting it?”

She looks at me expectantly, and I always feel like a jerk for forcing someone to throw food or drink out at this point in a transaction, so I sigh and nod. I swipe my card since I don’t carry cash, and that’s when I notice that the total is now $5.15.

Me: “Wait. How in the world is this soda now worth more than four bucks?”

The cashier speaks to me like she’s speaking to a very small, bratty child.

Cashier: “You pointed at one of those 99-cent lighters. I can’t give you that for free.”

There are, in fact, some lighters on the counter, but they’re nowhere near me or the sign. More importantly…

Me: *Trying to keep my jaw from dropping* “I pointed to the sign for 99-cent drinks. While talking about the sign. Before you answered me. About the sign. This lighter, which I don’t want and never asked for, is clearly $3, not 99 cents.”

The cashier is now extremely annoyed at the only customer in the store for wasting her time like this.

Cashier: “Do you seriously need a refund for your lighter?”

Me: “Yes. I don’t want it. It was your mistake, and I’m not paying for that.”

Cashier: “Fine. Swipe your card again. You want a receipt for that?”

I’m not feeling very trusting of her for some strange reason.

Me: “Yes. Please.”

The transaction finished in silence. She never said thank you. I wouldn’t have said you’re welcome. So maybe that was for the best.

And that’s the story of how I wound up paying more for a convenience store soda than I would’ve at any of their nearby competitors by falling for an ad they didn’t feel like honoring. I never shopped there again, but when I moved away two years later, those signs were still up, and their parking lot was still empty.