I used to work for a convenience store in the mid-2000s. Before we had a safe drop system to hand over large amounts of large-denomination bills, the practice was that once enough were in the register, you pulled them out, put a rubber band around them, and slid them between the till and the bottom of the register drawer.

This was put in place after several instances of bills being up too high and getting caught inside the register, being pulled out unknowingly, and cashiers getting written up and nearly fired for coming up so short at night. It also deterred people from wanting to rob us, because it looked like we had far less money in the registers than we did.

One day, I had just put a stack of hundred-dollar bills under my register in between customers. Several minutes later, a man came up and paid with a twenty. I gave him his change and receipt and went to help the next person in line, but he wouldn’t move.

Customer: “You gave me the wrong change back.”

Me: “I gave you [change], which is the correct amount, sir. I can help whoever’s next.”

Customer: “No! I gave you $100! You owe me another $80!”

Me: “Sir, I promise you, you did not give me $100. Our only options here are for you to wait about a half-hour while my supervisor does an audit on my register to show you that I gave you the correct change, or you accept that I gave you the correct change and head on to your destination.”

Customer: “YOU ARE STEALING MONEY FROM ME!”

Though I wasn’t supposed to do so, I popped my register open.

Me: “See how there’s not a single $100 bill in there?”

I shut the register again after he looked.

Me: “I can help the next person in line.”

He grumbled and complained for another minute or so, but he ended up leaving.

Several years ago, I worked as the overnight cashier for a convenience store in a rural part of Tennessee. We were the only store open for thirty minutes in any direction that late, so I saw pretty much everyone in the area all the time, and things were generally pretty casual. Another thing to note is that, although I was in my early thirties at the time, I still looked young enough that I got carded pretty much all the time for everything.

A semi-regular, a man in his late forties, came in one night to buy beer. The store was empty except for him and me. He seemed to be in a good mood and was singing a song from the Steve Miller Band, first released in 1976.

As he got up to the counter, I smiled at him, let him finish the lyric he was on, and then sang the next line by myself. His entire mood changed immediately.

Customer: *Scowling* “You’re not old enough to know that song!”

Me: *Raising an eyebrow* “Thanks, but I’m older than I look.”

He just growled at me, paid for the beer, and stomped out.

I never knew I could ruin someone’s night just by trying to join in the fun.

I work in a convenience store. One morning, a guy came in right after I opened and gave me a hundred-dollar bill for a forty-dollar purchase. I don’t start with a lot of cash in my drawer, and his change would have taken half my fives and tens.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have enough cash to give you your change and keep my drawer full. Do you have any smaller bills?”

He had a cow.

Customer #1: “Absolutely not! I’m not going anywhere until you give me my sixty dollars!”

I didn’t have many tens and fives, but I did have a lot of ones. So, I gave him fifty ones and two fives. The look on his face when I handed him that big wad of bills was priceless. He tried to argue with me, and I simply told him that that was the best I could do.

On a different day, I had a woman come in.

Customer #2: “I need change for a twenty. I need a ten and two fives.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but my drawer is wiped.”

To get around that, she bought something for a dollar to force me to break it. I gave her the change in all ones. She just stared at me like she thought maybe I was joking, but I just shrugged back at her. She didn’t say a word as she left with a handful of ones.

Years ago, I used to work at a convenience store in the middle of farmland. It was popular with truckers who hauled the sugar beets from the field to the processing plants.

One trucker would come in just about every morning during harvest season for coffee, donuts, and scratch-off lotto tickets. He would usually buy $5 to $10 worth of tickets and leave one for the cashier as a sort of tip.

Most of them were duds, but one that he gave me was a $50 winner!

I work at a mid-size convenience store, and let me be clear: we do not offer personal shoppers. I was working at the till and noticed my manager running around fetching items for a mid-age gentleman with a trolley. In between customers, I quietly joked to my manager:

Me: “You should get paid to be a personal shopper.”

Manager: “It’s not as if I have work to do.”

I was not looking forward to serving the guy, and I was quietly hoping he would go to the self-service machines. Nope.

He started putting the items on the counter one item at a time. He was sorting the items and putting some of them far away from me and some of them closer to me.

Customer: “Where’re the scones?”

Me: *Politely* “They’re by the bakery aisle.”

I thought he would go get it himself, but he yelled at my manager to grab the scones for him. My manager politely obliged.

There was a long queue, and I started to scan items as he put them on the counter. I had finished with the closer items and started to scan the items he had placed farther from me. However, he was not pleased with this.

Customer: “Stop! Scan the frozen items first.”

Me: “Okay.”

This caused a lot of delays as I had to wait for him to put the frozen items and had to stop scanning while he pushed around his trolley to get the frozen items.

All the time, he was complaining about “being a slave to the misses” and how this was his first time shopping. He also said I wouldn’t understand since I’m not married.

Me: *Politely* “Sir, maybe you could use our online ‘click and collect’ service if you want someone to do the shopping for you. Or, [Competitor] has delivery service.”

At that point, I didn’t care if we lost him as a customer; it was a small price to pay if it meant my colleagues didn’t have to deal with him.

He couldn’t hear me over the noise of the store. The mask muffled my voice a little. He asked me to speak up and speak slower.

I just nodded and pretended to listen to his moans. It was a noisy store, and I could only hear half of his complaints. He paid and said:

Customer: “I will make sure you have not double-charged me.”

He spent the next three minutes blocking that cash register and checking the looong receipt! While he was doing that, I said:

Me: “While you’re checking, let me serve the next customer.”

I gladly left him to his own devices and went to a different register to serve the other customers.

He was finally happy and said:

Customer: “You did all right.”

And he finally left.