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The Portion Is Growing, Not Shrimping

, , | Right | June 3, 2021

A customer walks to the counter. Before I can even acknowledge her, she starts looking around and frantically waving to get someone’s attention. I stop what I’m doing and walk over.

Me: “May I help you?”

She looks at the shrimp silently for a while without looking up at me.

Customer: “Is this shrimp fresh?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Would you like some?”

The customer is still having a conversation with her friend across the aisle.

Customer: “Yeah. John was thinking about going…”

She looks up and sees I’m waiting to hear her order.

Customer: *To herself* “Let’s see… five people… three shrimp per person… hmmm…” *To me* “Give me twenty shrimp.”

She walks away. I bag up and price her shrimp. A little while later, she walks back to the counter to grab her shrimp.

Customer: “How many shrimp did you put in here?”

Me: “You asked for twenty.”

Customer: *To herself* “Five people… four per person…” *To me* “Put five more shrimp in here.”

She walks away again. I open her bag, throw in five shrimp, and reprice it. She returns again.

Customer: “Better put five more shrimp in!”

She walks away. I put five more shrimp in. This time, I wait until she comes back just in case she wants more. She looks at me waiting to reweigh her shrimp.

Customer: “What are you waiting for?!”

I’m Right, Make No Bones About It

, , , | Right | June 3, 2021

Customer: “I’d like a pound of shrimp.”

Me: “No problem.”

Customer: “These shrimp are boneless, right?”

Me: “Um… yes. There are no bones in the shrimp.”

Customer: *Placing his hand on the counter* “I’m serious, dude. There had better not be any bones in these d*** shrimp.”

Me: “Shrimp don’t have bones, sir.”

Customer: “Look, man. I’m feeding these shrimp to a kid. I. Don’t. Want. There. To. Be. Any. Bones.”

Me: “I 100% guarantee there aren’t any bones in this shrimp.”

Customer: “All righty.”

Their Laziness Is Turned Up To Eleven

, , , , | Right | April 25, 2021

I work in the deli section of my store.

Customer: “Excuse me, are you all out of pita bread?”

Me: “Oh, the pita bread isn’t in this department. It’s going to be on the last aisle, number eleven.”

Customer: “You mean I have to walk all the way to the far end of the store?!”

Me: “Yes.”

Instead, she turned around and walked back out the front door and left.

If They Never Work For You… Maybe It’s You

, , , , | Right | April 1, 2021

Customer: “Did those chips ring up for $1.79?”

I check.

Me: “No. They rang up at $3.79.”

Customer: “Your stupid digital coupons never work! Every time! They just never work!”

He now has his phone out and is gesturing at the coupon in the store app. I notice something important.

Me: “Sir, you need to ‘clip’ it first.”

The coupon has a button saying, “Clip to card,” which I point to. He presses that and I void the order because the system won’t recognize a digital coupon that was added after the order was started.

The whole time while I do this and re-ring him up, he keeps grousing about how our digital coupons never work, it’s just a waste of his time, and we need to fix our system. I ignore his ranting, give him his new total, and tell him that the coupon has gone through. He pays.

Me: “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Customer: “The coupons just never work.”

I Am Rubber, You Are Poo

, , , , | Right | March 11, 2021

Customer: “Excuse me, your cheese island is infested with rats!”

Me:What?! You saw a rat over there?!”

Customer: “No, I didn’t see the rat itself, but its droppings are all over that thing!”

Me: “Show me where you saw them.”

The customer points to an empty section of the cheese island, where a bunch of small, black, spherical objects are sitting on the metal. They’re obviously bits that have come off the rubber matting we line the display shelves with.

Customer: “See right there? Rat s***!”

Me: “Oh, no, that’s actually part of this rubber matting right here. Sometimes little pieces come off of it.”

Customer: “Bulls***! That’s obviously rodent feces!

Me: “I assure you it is not, ma’am.

I pick up some of the little balls of rubber and rub them between my fingers

Me: “If that’s what it was, it would crumble or smear when I do this.”

Customer: “Well, if you’re so sure it’s not rat s***, then put it in your mouth.”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Customer: “PUT. IT. IN. YOUR. MOUTH.”

Me: *Crossing my arms* “Absolutely not.”

Customer: “See?! You won’t do it! Because it’s rat s***!

Me: “No, because it’s rubber, and I don’t put rubber in my mouth. That, plus the fact that it’s been sitting on a non-food-contact surface along with God knows what for God knows how long.”

Customer: “You’re just making excuses because you know it’s rat s***! This whole place is probably full of rats and you don’t even care!”

Me: “Would you put rubber in your mouth? If you just picked it up off some random place?”

Customer: “Of course, I would. Everybody would. You’re just covering up the fact that your store is a plague-ridden s***hole and all you people are disgusting, incompetent pigs!”

Me: “Well, if that’s how this conversation is going to go, I can’t help you. Good day.”

I walked back behind the counter to the sound of the woman’s shrill screeching before she goose-stepped her way to the customer service counter. Later on, the store manager told me she threatened to bring the health inspector, the police, and a news crew into the store to document our supposed misdeeds… unless he agreed to give her certain discounts. He told her that if she tried that, he’d have the cops she brought in to haul her out of the store in cuffs, and he told her never to come back. And he told me to clean the bits of rubber off the cheese island.