I am a sixty-five-year-old woman, assistant manager at a farm store. Today, it’s just a cashier and me working. 

I am pulling a huge skid of horse feed to the floor from the back room. A customer comes up to me:

Customer: “I need help in your boot department.”

Me: “I will be right there, sir, after I’ve parked this skid.”

Customer: *Huffs.* “I want help now!”

I mull the break on the very heavy skid and drop it like a hot rock.

Me: *Smiling.* “I will be happy to help you.”

We walk to the boots section when he turns and says:

Customer: “Are these the only boots you have?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: *Huffs.* “Fine!”

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “No. Just go away.”

I go back to the skid and continue to pull it.

A few minutes later, the cashier comes over the PA and says:

Cashier: “Customer needs assistance in Boots, please.”

So, off I go again: same man. He’s not happy to see me again.

Customer: “Are you sure this is all the boots?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Is there a man I can talk to?”

Me: *With a completely straight face.* “I used to be one, does that help?”

His eyes bug out, and he leaves the store.

I’ve never been a man. My boss laughed his head off when he came in, then said, “Don’t do that again.”

A big chain bakery is having some success with a cardamom-flavoured bun, so the boss of our small independent bakery, ever the innovator, creates one of his own. I think they’re delicious, but they don’t seem to be selling that much.

Boss: “Hmm, the new cardamom buns aren’t selling well.”

Me: “Yeah, maybe it’s not a flavour they like?”

Boss: “Let me try something.” 

He takes the sign that says: ‘Cardamom buns: £2.49’ and replaces it with ‘Cardamom buns: £3.49 – now £2.49!'”

They were all sold out by the end of the day.

It’s the day after Halloween weekend, and so we’re offering large discounts on all the unsold seasonal stuff. A woman is buying pretty much every fake blood capsule we still have for sale.

Me: “Wow, you must really like the fake blood!”

Customer: “Oh, I always have a few in my purse.”

Me: *Quizzical look.*

Customer: “I’m a cashier, too. I always get told by men that I should smile more, so every time that happens, I pop one in and give them the best view of my blood-soaked pearly whites. That usually does the trick.”

Me: “That’s… amazing!”

Customer: *Counting the ten packs of fake blood, each containing ten capsules.* “Hmm, a hundred. I hope this is enough to get me through to next Halloween…”

I don’t just live in the bible belt; I live in the buckle. As a result, it’s very common to have customers end our transactions with “God bless!” or “you have a blessed day!”

Most of the time, I just nod or say thank you, but one regular always seems to be put out by this.

Customer: “You know, I always say bless you, but you never say it back! You just say thanks! You don’t even say ‘you too’!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, there’s not much meaning in me saying that as I’m an atheist.”

Customer: “An atheist is just someone who hasn’t found God yet, but it’s inevitable! You should start by wishing your customers a blessed day.”

Me: “I wish for all my customers a good day, but not from any gods.”

Customer: “God! Singular! There’s only one! I’ll pray for you!”

She came back the next week, and stared at me hard as she said, after paying:

Customer: “God bless!”

Me: “And may the force be with you.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “I found a religion, just like you said!”

She rolls her eyes and heads out with her groceries. She stopped wishing me blessings after that.

I used to work in a grocery store.

Customer: *Walking in and without even looking for themselves.* “Where’s the [Brand] peanut butter?”

Me: “Aisle seven.”

Customer: “Which one is that?”

Me: “The one with the seven on top of it.”

Customer: “Oh, well, if you could go get it for me, since you already know where that is.” *Smiles expectantly.*

I sigh internally and just go and get it for them.

Customer: “This is the 28oz jar! I wanted the 40oz jar! And I wanted smooth, and this is crunchy!”

Me: “Did you see the aisle I came out from when walking back to you?”

Customer: “Yes?”

Me: *Hands them the jar.* “That’s aisle seven. Now you know where it is.” *Smiles expectantly.*