I work at a department store as a cashier. Many of our clothing items have security tags attached to them to prevent theft.

On one particularly busy day, one of our floor associates came to help on registers as the line is long. This associate forgot to remove some of the security tags. I was working the register closest to the door, so as the customer exited, the alarm went off and I called him and his wife back.

Me: “There are just a couple of security tags that got left on. I need to remove them.”

He got upset.

Customer: “If you look in my bags, I get to keep everything and I get a full refund!”

Me: “We can’t do that, sir. It isn’t your fault, and we’re not accusing you of anything, but I need to remove the security tags so that you can wear your items.”

He kept getting more and more upset and getting louder and louder. At one point, he shouted:

Customer: “You guys are embarrassing the h*** out of me!”

At that point, I called my manager to come over to take care of this. The manager tried to explain the same thing to the customer, but he just yelled at her, so my manager told him he could just go with his items.

A couple of days later, the man came back with a few items that had security tags left on them. He demanded he should get a full refund of those items because we didn’t remove the security tags. The customer service person called a manager to see if we could do that. Lo and behold, it was the same manager who had tried to explain to him a few days ago that we had to remove those security tags.

Manager: “You have two options, sir. Option one: let us remove the security devices and you can leave with your clothing. Option two: you can return them, get refunded what you paid, and leave.”

The customer allowed us to remove the security items and he walked away in a huff. We haven’t seen him since.

About fifty years ago, I was working in a department store — a college student alone in the department in the evening hours.

A woman tried on a few things and decided to buy one, presenting a torn-off section of a price tag.

Customer: “This fell off the price tag still on the garment.”

She had conveniently torn off the same portion of that still-attached tag.

The only problem was that none of the codes on the loose portion matched any of the coded numbers on the still-attached tag — not the manufacturers’ code, not the season code, not the color code, and not the price. I pointed this information out to her.

Me: “I cannot sell a sixty-dollar garment for $19.99.”

Suddenly, she no longer wanted it.

A woman and her children come in five minutes before we close — we close at midnight, and I am beyond exhausted — to return a bunch of pants that didn’t fit her kids. Apparently, I miss a pair of jeans, so I have to go through and rescan the pile to see which one I missed.

Customer: “Just hand me the jeans and I’ll match up the barcodes from the receipt to see which pair you missed.”

Me: “That won’t work; it will just be easier if I go through and scan them all to see which pair pops up that wasn’t previously returned.”

Customer: “No, no. Let me do it so you won’t accidentally miss the pair again.”

Me: “Ma’am, that won’t work. The UPC numbers on the receipt for whatever reason are different from the ones on the actual tag. You will be here for years, and the numbers will never match up. I’ve worked returns here for two years now and I know this, so please, just let me scan.”

She purses her lips and finally just lets me scan through the jeans once more. I toss the various jeans into different piles once I’m sure they are not the missing pair.

Customer: “Honey, let’s all keep the jeans in one pile in case you mess up again. Being tidy and organized would have saved you some trouble in the first place.”

Me: “The jeans are in different piles because they need to be. Some can be put directly on the floor. Some can be marked down and sold as clearance because they are online-only items. The rest are to be sent back to the warehouse. I need to keep them separate so they don’t get all mixed together and things end up where they are not supposed to. Please just let me finish as I only have a few pairs left.”

I finally scanned the missing pair and returned them. We were probably a few minutes past close by then and I was eager to get them to leave. The woman called her daughters to come to join her, and I saw in horror that they had decided to go clothes shopping and not just wander the store, and they each had a huge pile. Because all the other registers had been closed, I had to check her out. Also, because she paid cash, I had to recount my drawer because it had to have the exact number of bills and change in there noted for the cash office.

I was one of the last people to leave the store that night.

Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 47
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 47
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 46
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 45
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 44

It’s a few minutes after we opened, and I’m behind the jewelry counter finishing up inventory. An elderly woman wanders over to the display tables on the other side of the counter, where we have some jewelry made with cheap diamonds and plated silver. She picks up a tennis bracelet, inspects it, and drops it into her purse — as I’m five feet away from her with my clipboard and VERY obviously staring at her. It takes me a second or two to overcome the shock and pull out my customer service voice.

Me: “Would you like to purchase that, ma’am?”

Customer: “Oh, I’m thinking about it.”

She pats my hand and walks away. By the time I can get Loss Prevention on the phone, she’s left the store. I describe what happened to my coworker when she comes in.

Coworker: “I know her! When I worked in cosmetics, she would always steal the tester bottles of perfume! But LP would never keep track of her when I told them she was here. One of them actually asked me, ‘What’s your beef with this old lady?’ She steals from us; that’s my beef with her!”

Me: “Wow.”

Coworker: “She plays at being confused when I confront her, but I’m betting it’s an act. She only ever takes one thing, always under $100, and she’s been doing this for years. She’s stolen a couple thousand dollars of merchandise by this point.”

My coworker and I update the LP head on our elderly thief and keep a careful eye out for her. She eventually comes in again, and we have LP on the phone the second we see her. We both stand silently staring at her as she wanders past us and up the escalator to the second floor, trailed by the LP head. The second floor is Housewares, so we’re surprised to see her being guided back down the escalator and in the direction of the LP office by the head fifteen minutes later.

Me: “What, did she try to stick a blender in her purse?”

Half an hour later, the LP head comes to our counter, looking amused.

LP Head: “So… we got her on chocolate.”

Me: “Huh?”

LP Head: “She took two bars from one of the empty registers, sat and ate them in the cafe, and then walked back out into the mall. When I stopped her, she acted confused and told me she thought she was still inside our store.”

It was enough to get her trespassed for a year.

I work for a big-name department store. I served an old woman with a large order.

Me: “Is this all one transaction?”

Customer: *Very rudely* “What kind of question is that? Do you see another person with me?”

At this point, I’m cringing because I know this isn’t going to be an easy transaction.

She tries to pass me her bags, but I’m not allowed to pack them, so I place all her items on the end. She starts yelling and screaming about how lazy I am, calls me the worst cashier in the world, and adds some rather personal insults.

Eventually, I look at her and say:

Me: “Look, I’m just following the rules of my job. I’m not allowed to deviate from them in any way. There’s no reason to get personal. Please, leave me alone.”

She seems pretty humiliated after that and simply responds with, “Okay,” and remains silent until the transaction was complete.

Customer: “I’m sorry for my behavior. I was in a bad mood and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

I’m not sure if she was actually sorry or just embarrassed that I called her out, but I genuinely wish more rude customers would apologize like she did.