(I’m the operations manager at a department store. In an effort to cut costs, we’ve been directed to remove our registers from some outlying departments. Since I’m one of the more technologically proficient people in my store, I’m unplugging things and getting them sorted out onto carts to be moved to the stockroom where they’ll be fully wiped of information before they’re sent back to a central hub. Thus far, I’ve detached the card readers and screens from both registers, they’re already on a cart behind me, and all the cash has been removed from the tills. A well-dressed, uppity-looking woman sets two boxes of shoes down in front of me.)

Me: “Good morning! If you’d like to purchase these they’ll be able to—”

Customer: “Of course I want to purchase them.”

Me: “Great. As I was saying, they’ll be able to help you in the jewelry department right over there.”

Customer: “Why would I walk all the way over there?”

(The jewelry department is perhaps 100 feet away, towards the entrance to the mall where I presume the woman came in. Our only other entrance is in the tool department, quite a bit further away.)

Me: “Well, if you came in by the tools, they’ll be able to check you out over there, as well.”

Customer: “Do I look like I came in by the tools? Ring me up for the shoes now. I hate waiting like this; it’s stupid.”

(I look down in front of me at the wires I’m clearly detaching from the CPU of the register and then back at the cart behind me that’s got the screens and card readers on it. I turn back to the customer.)

Me: “If it’s not incredibly obvious, these registers aren’t functional right now. You’ll need to go to a department with a functioning register to check out; there are people ready to take care of you at either entrance.”

Customer: “Well, if they aren’t functioning, fix them.”

(It’s been a long day already and I’m apparently over her.)

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m not going to reassemble a register, get a cash drawer for it, and reboot the whole thing so that you’re able to cash out here. Jewelry or tools, please.”

Customer: “I can wait here all day; you will serve me.”

Me: “I encourage you to hold your breath.”

(I worked there for four more years. I noticed that woman shopping several other times, and I never helped her. Serve yourself, you entitled witch.)

Customer: “Can you help me find a certain pillow?”

Me: “Sure, do you know the brand name?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Okay. Can you tell me what it looks like?”

Customer: “It’s soft… and squishy…”

So I work in a department store that has a large auto department directly to the right of the entrance.The housewares department (where I work)is directly to the left,and hardware (where I cover if needed)along with the paint desk is straight to the back of the store.We have massive(like 8ft tall lettering) signs over each department and Auto even has its own entrance and tills.STILL at least a few times a week I get this:

Customer (at the paint desk or elsewhere in hardware):Where are your fuses?

Me(thinking they mean for a house)Aisle 13-points

A few moments later customer comes stomping back looking pissed

Customer:NO!You sent me to the wrong place.I want fuses for a car?!?(looks at me like I’m the dipshit)

Me: Oh then it’d be in Automotive,Aisle 5(points them to the aisle which says Car+Truck Fuses right under the number 5 which they had to walk past to get to me at the paint desk)

Me:Headdesks hoping someone will come to take over Hardware soon.

(I work at a leased department inside a major department store whose slogan is to create magic for those who shop there. I don’t work for this major retailer, but I often will help their customers when things slow down. This happens after I finish with my customer:)

Customer: “I just want these.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t ring these items; I can walk them to another register with you if you’d like.”

Customer: “How dare you be so rude to me? I demand you ring these, now!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I work for a leased department so I’m not an employee of [Store], but they can help you at the next register.”

Customer: “FINE! Let me at least pay my bill!”

Me: “Sure, I’d be glad to do that; I can only accept cash or debit. My check reader isn’t working at the moment.”

Customer: “You are horrible. You won’t ring me and refuse to accept my check. Get me a manager!”

(I call a manager from the department store and explain the situation to the manager. The managers are often reluctant to show up, because we don’t work for them. Thankfully, one does show up.)

Manager: “I understand there has been a misunderstanding.”

Customer: “This b**** won’t ring me up or take my payment!”

Manager: “She doesn’t actually work for [Department Store] so she doesn’t ring our items. [Department Store] employees will be happy to help you there. As far as the payment, we can take cash or debit, because the work ticket shows that the check machine is down. So, how would you like to pay?”

Customer: “I filled out this check, so take my check here and now!”

(This goes on for a few minutes longer before I lose my cool.)

Me: “Lady! You’re not listening! I can’t abracadabra the machine to take your check. You could’ve been done had you taken it to another register. Or do you enjoy arguing?”

Customer: *throws the items in her hands at us and storms out*

Manager: “Had you worked for us, I would have had to write you up. But since you don’t—” *hands me a voucher* “—enjoy lunch on us.”

(Best, argument, ever! Thank you, miserable lady!)

(I’m working at a popular department store in the women’s clothing section. It’s one of our busy winter sales, and I’ve been walking the floor assisting customers. I notice my coworker at the register has been dealing with the same woman for a while, and I go over to see if I can help.)

Customer: “It’s supposed to be a $28.99 Morning Special! There was a sign!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but that’s not what it’s scanning at, and I need to verify it before I can adjust the price.” *noticing me approaching* “[My Name], can you go find this item on the floor for me?”

(The customer has a $149 winter coat, which is ringing up on sale at $89.99. There’s absolutely no way we’re selling this coat for thirty dollars.)

Me: “I can go check the sign for you, ma’am. Where did you get it from?”

(The customer leads me back to a clothing rack, which does indeed say, “$28.99 Morning Special,” on one end of it. It also says, “[Brand] Knit Sweaters,” right below that, in a font of the same size. The rack itself is filled with that brand’s sweaters, except on the far side where there are two more of the same winter coats hanging on the end.)

Customer: “See?! Right here!”

Me: “Ma’am, it looks like another customer was looking at these coats and just left them here.”

Customer: “But they’re on this rack! It says, ‘28.99 Morning Special’!”

Me: “Yes, but it also says it’s for [Brand] knit sweaters. I apologize for the confusion; I’ll move the coats back where they came from.”

(The customer scowls and storms off, and I see her back at the register arguing that she should get an exception for the $28.99 price. I beckon for a supervisor, and when the woman sees her coming she quiets down and scuttles away. I tell the supervisor what happened, and she nods after the retreating customer.)

Supervisor: “A few years ago, she used to shoplift from us. I guess she finally got a job.”