A woman approaches my till with a bottle of water and a T-shirt. Most carrier bags in the UK have a minimum charge of 5p.

Me: “Hello, do you need a bag?”

Customer: “I don’t pay for bags!”

I start scanning her items.

Customer: *Sneering* “Do you have any paper cups in stock this time?”

Me: “I think we have a few left down our homeward aisle.”

It has been a very hot weekend, so we have sold a lot of cups, plates, cutlery, etc., for barbeques.

Customer: “You never have any at the tills? How am I meant to drink this? Out of the bottle, like a common teenager?”

Me: “I’m afraid we have never supplied free cups for bottles, madam.”

Customer: “No wonder your company is going down the pan!”

I start folding the shirt she has bought.

Customer: *Snatching it* “Don’t bother; it will just get dirty when I have to carry it through the street! Why can’t you do fully biodegradable bags like they do in Germany? I hate this country!”

I do debate pointing out that our new bags are much more eco-friendly, but I know that whatever 

I say it will be “wrong,” so I simply settle for:

Me: “You’ll have to take it up with management, madam. Here’s your receipt.”

She stormed off, still ranting.

Related:
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 5
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 4
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 3
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 2
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage

Customer: “Is pistachio ice cream just mint chocolate chip but without the chocolate chips?”

Me: “No… then it would just be called mint.”

Customer: “Oh. And what’s a fudge stick?”

Me: “A stick of fudge.”

Even after several years working in customer service, I’m still not sure it is possible to answer questions this stupid without sounding patronising and/or sarcastic. Pointers much appreciated!

My wife and I host a barbecue for us and my wife’s sister and her husband, our brother-in-law. My sister-in-law is okay, but I don’t like my brother-in-law and I’m not afraid to call him out on his selfish and controlling behaviour.

They show up late and empty-handed. My brother-in-law walks into the house without thinking to knock and immediately starts looking at his phone.

He spends most of the barbecue on his phone. We eat, drink, and eat some more.

We run out of food quickly, but to my surprise, [Brother-In-Law] offers to drive me to the shops to help buy more. When we are there, he even offers to buy some food!

We get back, I cook some more, we eat and drink, and eventually, it is time for them to go.

My wife and I tidy up and I start to sort through the leftovers and unused food.

Me: “Err… where did you put the ribs?”

Wife: “What ribs?”

Me: “The ones [Brother-In-Law] brought. There should be some more burgers and rolls, as well. I bought some nice sauces we haven’t opened yet; I can’t find them, either.”

Wife: “You don’t think [Brother-In-Law] took them, do you?”

Me: “No. No one would just take a load of uncooked food, right?”

It turns out that was exactly what he did. He hid the stuff he brought behind mine in the fridge so I would use his last. When we used some of “his” food, he took some of mine. 

My sister-in-law apologised to us a while after when he tried to pass off the stuff he took as his own. We see her occasionally, but we have nothing to do with him.

We are about to move house, so we are selling anything we don’t want to take with us. There are a lot of children’s things that our kids have outgrown and are pretty bulky, so we want to get rid of them quickly.

Everything is clean, in good condition, and really cheap, so some items go within the hour. Others have lots of interest but just need transport arranged, etc.

One woman messages me on a few items.

Customer: “Are they available?”

Me: “Yes, they are!”

I don’t hear from her again. I get rid of pretty much everything that day, and after a few days, the items nobody wants go to the charity shop.

A whole week later, the customer from before contacts me again.

Customer: “I will collect them tomorrow and will only pay what you’re asking if they are in excellent condition.”

Me: “Well, there has been a lot of interest and nearly everything has gone. But as it happens, someone let me down on the last item and I am available tomorrow.”

Again, I hear nothing back until later that night, and it’s a one-word reply.

Customer: “Okay.”

I’m not too thrilled with her demanding attitude. At this point, she doesn’t know where I live nor have I actually agreed to sell to her, so I don’t feel like chasing her. Around lunchtime the next day, I get a message.

Customer: “I’m free now; I can collect [item].”

Me: “That’s fine. My address is [address]. How long do you think you will be? I am working from home, so I’m pretty busy.”

I get nothing back. An hour later, I see a car pull up; a woman in her early forties with nice clothes, designer handbag, etc., gets out. She strides up to the door and bangs very hard, ignoring the doorbell.

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: “I’m here for the baby bouncer.”

Me: “Yes, I—”

Customer: *Cutting me off* “Is it clean? It should be clean if you are selling it.”

As I’m bringing it to the door:

Me: “Yes, it’s clean and disinfected. The lights, sounds, and movement all work fine. No damage or marks. It’s pretty much brand new and I have the box and receipts.”

She looks almost disappointed.

Customer: “Well, I, err… I can only pay you £20.”

Me: “It was £160 new; the advert was £30, no offers.”

Customer: *Smirking* “I will leave it, then.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Bye, thanks for coming!”

With that, I closed the door on her. She stood at the door motionless for a while before getting back in her car, looking shocked that her ploy didn’t work. 

I ended up taking the bouncer with us after we moved — couldn’t donate it without a fire tag — and sold it to a very grateful new mum near the new house.

About that time, we ended up selling a load of furniture after we moved. That customer commented on most of them, as well, even telling other commenters that they were sold when they weren’t.

I blocked her, but not before letting her know that I don’t sell to time wasters.

Related:
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 14
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 13
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 12
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 11
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 10

This story is part of our Garage Sale roundup!

Read the next Garage Sale roundup story!

Read the Garage Sale roundup!

I am working at my local supermarket on Remembrance Sunday, and despite it being a busy day, all the staff are observing a two-minute silence. Management has been announcing this fact every half-hour since we opened, and then every five minutes from fifteen minutes before, and then again two minutes before eleven.

Eleven o’clock hits and I stop scanning my customer’s groceries. The customer that I was serving and the three others at my till all stand there silently, with their heads bowed. About halfway through the two minutes, an irate, older gentleman with a huge trolley of food barges up to my till and pushes past the other customers.

Customer: “Why are you not serving anyone? I demand that you serve me now.”

Bearing in mind that I was halfway through scanning another customer’s shopping when the two-minute silence started, I am unable to do anything until the transaction is finished. So, I start gesturing to the clock and miming zipping my mouth closed so he gets the idea that I am not speaking at the moment, but all this does is make him angry.

Customer: “Are you mocking me? Come on, speak up! Or are you just deaf?”

I can see all of the other customers in the queue getting angry and frustrated with the man for talking during a two-minute silence, but he will not shut up.

Customer: “You need to serve me! I am in a massive rush and half the roads are closed for some stupid parade.”

I should also mention that my town hosts a Remembrance Day service in the town centre every year, and local veterans and serving soldiers, as well as the general public, all attend. This is not unknown; it is actually a very common practice in the UK.

Eventually, a tannoy announcement states that the two-minute silence is over. I turn to the rude gentleman to speak to him.

Me: “I am sorry for not speaking to you sooner, sir, but I was observing a two-minute silence to honour our war dead. Now, I am afraid that all of these customers were before you, and I do not appreciate you cutting in, so back of the line, please.”

Customer: “Well, I had no idea that you were doing a two-minute silence; your store should have announced that.”

Suddenly, the gentleman behind this customer pipes up.

Other Customer: “Look, mate, you have obviously been here for a while, so I am surprised that you didn’t hear the almost dozen announcements warning that this would be happening and that all of the staff this year had decided that they will all take part? You must be the deaf one. Now, you disrespectful little p***k, back of the line.”

Everyone in the nearby vicinity heard the commotion and applauded when the man was sent packing to the back of the queue. My manager, who had overheard this entire conversation, gave the other gentleman a discount on his shopping.