(It’s Saturday, which means that we have a $5-off coupon for any purchase over $25. A couple comes up to my register and we strike up a conversation about travelling and Las Vegas.)

Me: *finishes ringing the couple up* “That’ll be [amount around $110].”

Customer: *pays and continues to chatter about Las Vegas*

Me: “Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Oh! I forgot my $5 coupon!”

Me: *slightly nervous, because I’ve always ended up panicking in scenarios like this* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do the coupon now, since the transaction has been finished.”

Customer: “No, you can’t do that! I forgot to use my coupon and I want to use it!”

Me: “Ma’am, you can’t use it now that the transaction has been finished.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager!” *smiling, but very agitated*

Manager: *hurries over and asks the customer what’s wrong, the customer repeats the exact same thing to her* “I’m sorry ma’am, but we’d have to return your entire purchase just to use it.”

Customer: “Fine, then let’s return everything!”

Manager: *speechless*

(At this point a line is forming, and we only have two working registers, with only one cashier. The customer continues to go on about wanting to return her entire purchase, but a man in line chimes in.)

Man: “Lady, just give me the coupon and I will give you the five dollars. If it’s really that big of a deal, I will give you the five dollars!”

Customer: *gets mad and leaves with a huff*

(I’m relatively poor, living check-to-check on minimum wage, so I tend to frequent dollar and discount stores for many of my basic needs. I’m currently in a dollar store near my apartment. I pick up a few items I think I’ll need, but after wandering around for 15 minutes, decide to put some of them back. Suddenly, a worker approaches me as I’m putting back the some of the items.)

Worker: “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you guys closing or something?”

Worker: “No. It’s not that. We just don’t want you here.”

Me: *taken aback* “What?”

Worker: “I saw you at [Other Dollar Store]. I know you work there!”

(I do not work there.)

Me: “I don’t work there. And even if I did, what’s the problem?”

Worker: “We don’t appreciate corporate espionage here, sir!”

(This is so ridiculous and unexpected a response, I actually burst out laughing.)

Me: *between laughs* “What?”

Worker: *firm* “I know you work at [Other Dollar Store]! I saw you there. I bet they sent you over to check out our prices or something. They always steal all of our business!”

Me: “Dude… it’s a dollar store. Do they really need to send someone over to spy on you in order to figure out how much most of your stuff costs?”

Worker: “I know you work for them!”

Me: “Uh, I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

(The conversation continues for about another minute, with him repeatedly accusing me of “corporate espionage” and me dismissing these ludicrous claims. Finally, he seems to relent…)

Worker: “Fine. Whatever. But I know you work at [Other Dollar Store].”

Me: *laughing* “Okay, buddy.”

(I go to the cashier to ring up the things I am buying.)

Me: “Uhh… You don’t really think I’m committing corporate espionage, do you?”

Cashier: *confused* “What?”

(I explained the situation to the cashier, who was completely dumbfounded by her coworker’s claims. I also noted that in order for him to have supposedly recognized me from the other dollar store, which admittedly I do shop at occasionally, he would have had to have been in there a lot himself… I returned to the store repeatedly several times in the following weeks and so far as I can tell, the worker who confronted me was no longer there.)

(I work in a dollar store. Literally every single item in the store costs one dollar. It is generally a pretty easy concept, at least in the US, as dollar stores are everywhere. A woman comes in to the store and starts filling her cart with everything in sight. In less than five minutes she has a full cart, and she leaves it up front and grabs a second one to fill up. When the second cart is full she gets a third and fills it, and then she approaches me at the register with all the carts. I start to try and scan the items and she stops me.)

Customer: “You don’t need to bag these. I can just take these out in the carts. Here.” *hands me a single dollar bill*

Me: “Ma’am, I have to scan the items so I can charge you the correct amount. It looks like you have several hundred items here so that’s going to cost a lot more than one dollar.”

Customer: “Wait, what? I thought this was a dollar store. Everything I get is one dollar!”

Me: “Uh… no, ma’am. Each single item costs one dollar. It’s not ‘take as much as you want’ for one dollar. If it was, the store wouldn’t make any money.”

Customer: “What the h***?! Your sign says ‘everything for one dollar,’ DOES IT NOT?”

Me: “Yes. Every item costs one dollar. That’s what the sign is referring to.”

Customer: “Well, thanks for wasting my time! I’m gonna report you for false advertising!”

(She then ran out of the store leaving her three full carts behind. It took me and my coworker a full two hours to put everything back on the correct places on the shelves. She had 337 items. I could maybe understand her confusion if she wasn’t from the US or had never heard of a dollar store, but she had a local accent so I have no idea.)

(I am shopping at our local dollar store when I come across an old lady in the cleaning aisle, spraying air freshener into the air. And it isn’t little sprays — it is massive “oh, my gosh, who was just in the bathroom!” sprays.)

Me: “Ma’am? You really shouldn’t do that.”

Old Woman: “Why? You’re not my boss!”

Me: “I know, but I’m sure there are others in this store like me who are allergic to the chemicals in those bottles.”

Old Woman: “What the h*** does that have to do with it?”

Me: “Well, let me put it this way: when I have an asthma attack and have to go to the hospital because I can’t breath, are you going to pay for my ambulance ride?”

(The old lady’s face pales. She drops the air fresheners on the ground and scampers away to the other side of the store. I go on with my shopping, holding my breath as I walk through the cloud, and grab the one thing I need from that aisle. A clerk stops me as I leave the aisle. I thought for sure the old lady reported me for something but am surprised when she smiles at me.)

Clerk: “Thank you. We’ve been trying to get her to stop for the last ten minutes but she just kept telling us to f*** off.”

(I love going to the dollar store. I’m one of those former retail slaves that gets asked where things are because even when I’m in a tank-top and shorts, I apparently look like I work there. I also tend to put things back where they belong. This happened today while I was gathering personal stuff, and some stuff for work, into a hand basket. I get up to the till.)

Me: “I have two separate transactions; is that all right?”

Cashier: “Sure, no problem.”

(I sort through things quickly, stopping when I reach my work limit and adding the rest to my personal pile. It goes very quickly, and there’s only one person in line behind me. I pay for the first transaction, and then put the rest of my stuff on the counter.)

Me: “I’m just going to go put the hand basket away. I’ll be right back.” *expecting him to just keep ringing*

Cashier: *jaw dropped, frozen in place when I return to till* “NO ONE PUTS THEM BACK!”

Me: “Oh?”

Cashier: “NO ONE! YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON TO PUT THE BASKET BACK!” *normal voice* “I always tell people they have to put them back, and they say it’s my job. No, my job is to take your money and tell you to leave. You have to put the basket back. Cause I can’t leave the till to go put it back when I’m alone, and if they put it on the next till, when I call for backup, that cashier has to put it away. And then, if they leave it on the floor, where I can’t see it from here, then the next guy trips over it, and they say it’s my fault, but it’s the guy who left it there’s fault, not mine. Or at the end of the counter. I had a lady just push her cart over there, too lazy to put it away right, and it knocked over ALL my glasses.”

(It honestly felt like he said that all in one breath, maybe two. I look over at the display of cheap sunglasses and reading glasses, nodding slowly, feeling more and more uncomfortable because there’s a line growing and this guy is pretty much calling everyone in line lazy, since the whole store heard him yell that I was the only one who puts them back.)

Me: *quietly* “I used to work retail… I think it’s just nice to put it back, that’s all.”

Cashier: “It is! But no one ever does! And it makes a mess. Cause no one cares.”

Me: *pays as quickly as I can* “Yes, receipt in the bag is fine. You have a good day now…” *walks out of the store very fast*

(I don’t think he’ll have a job there very long…)