Me: “Your total is $10.60.”

Customer: *with an accent that sounds like she’s from around Manchester, England* “Okay, here’s a ten, and…” *pours her change on the counter and starts going through them* “…Is this twenty-five? No, this is five… and this is ten? No, this one’s twenty-five cents… How much is this one? Oh, I’m not good with this money. I can’t tell what anything is.”

Me: “No problem. I’ll count out sixty for you. So, are vacationing here in the USA?”

Customer: “No, I’ve lived here for ten years…”

(I work as a sales associate at a store where vendors control some of our shelf layouts. One day a man working for the chip company comes in.)

Me:“Hello, sir, do you need my manager?”

Vendor #1: “No, I just came to reset your shelves. We just changed the layout.”

(I don’t think anything of it and go back to work while the guy moved product around on the shelf. He left after about an hour. The next day another guy from the company comes in and begins stocking the shelves. After a while he calls out to me.)

Vendor #2: “How come your chip aisle is so messed up?”

Me: *confused* “One of your guys reset it.”

Vendor #2: “This isn’t how they’re supposed look and I’m the only guy who works this area.”

(The vendor reset the shelves and we later found out that an ex-employee kept his uniform and pretended to work at the company to steal chips.)

(I’m in my mid 20s, and have been the general manager of a dollar store for about three years. One afternoon, I took over the register to allow my associate a 15 minute break. My first customer gives me a look of pity.)

Customer: “Bet you wish you went to college.”

(This is not an out of the ordinary remark, so I smile as I respond.)

Me: “I did! Had a lot of fun, too!”

Customer: “Oh. Well, I bet you wish you graduated.”

Me: “…I did.”

(The customer is starting to get a little snotty at this point.)

Customer: “Bet you wish you had graduated with a real degree, then.”

(I’m getting angry at this point, because he is very obviously trying to make me feel bad about a job I love.)

Me: “Sir, I graduated from [State College], with honors, with a Bachelor’s degree in forensic chemistry.”

Customer: *shocked* “But why would you work HERE?!”

Me: “Because, for some reason, I like it. But then people like you come in. Will that be all for you today?”

(The customer, face red, quickly paid for his items, and left. I haven’t seen him since!)

(So, my store has only started selling cigarettes recently, and corporate office demands we ID each and every single person, each and every single time, regardless of how old they look. Failure to do so can result in immediate termination. An older looking gentleman asks for a pack of cigarettes.)

Me: “May I see a piece of ID sir?”

Customer: *becoming furious* “What? Does it look like I dye my beard grey?!”

Me: “I do apologize, sir. It is company policy and I do not want to lose my job.”

(He shows me his ID, reluctantly, looking more angry every second. After the transaction is complete he says:)

Customer: “You are lucky my blood pressure medicine is working, because I’m so mad at your punk a** it would go through the roof!”

Me: “Sir, do you know what else helps with blood pressure?”

Customer: “WHAT?!”

Me: “Not smoking cigarettes.”

(My brothers, father, and I are shopping. We have just left a store where we bought several new bowls and cups. When we enter the next store my father asks the cashier to hold onto our bags while we look around, which she agrees to do. Later we return and go to get our bags back.)

Dad: “Hey, can we get our stuff back?”

Cashier: “What? Oh! I’m so sorry! While you were gone I went on my lunch break and thought that these were mine, so I used them. I cleaned them after, though!”

(She hands us the bags.)

Us: “…”

(We still have some of those cups.)