(I work in a fabric store and often come across customers who move the fabric as I go to make a cut. I measure out the fabric, holding my fingers next to the spot I am about cut, pick the scissors up, and try to make the first cut, when the customer pulls the fabric. I try again. This time she pulls the fabric out of my grip, but not before pulling my fingers into the cutting area of the scissors. Again, I stop and have to re-measure before trying again.)

Me: *as the customer pulls the fabric again* “Will you stop pulling the fabric?”

Customer: “But you are cutting it crooked.”

Me: “I haven’t even started cutting yet, and good thing, too, because this is the second time you’ve pulled my fingers into the blades of the scissors. Just leave the fabric alone.”

Customer: “Oh… I was only trying to help; you have the fabric crooked.”

Me: “Just let me do it; I know what I’m doing.”

(With that, I finally get to make that first cut, and then with my hands, I tear the fabric right across.)

Customer: “You are tearing it; it won’t be straight.”

Me: *holding the fabric up* “It always tears straight.”

Customer: “Wow. That’s impressive.”

(I am cutting fabric at the fabric counter, and I call for the next number to be served. A woman approaches with a bolt of faux fur, which is currently 40% off.)

Customer: “I would like one yard, please.”

(I scan the label on the bolt. Note: the original, non-sale price listed on the bolt is $14.99. We always let the customers know what the price is and if it’s on sale before we cut, in case they were planning on using coupons, etc.)

Me: *with my usual chipperness* “Okay, it’s $8.99 a yard, and it is on sale today!”

Customer: *suddenly scowling* “No, that’s not right. I thought you said it was on sale?”

Me: “Yes. It’s $8.99 on sale, normally $14.99.”

Customer: “It’s supposed to be 40% off!”

Me: “It is—”

(Before I can finish, she storms away, mumbling about finding the section to check the sale sign. She walks to the fur aisle, with the 40% off signs posted, and marches back, looking even more perturbed. At this point, I’m thinking perhaps she’s confused about what the original price was.)

Me: “Ma’am, $8.99 is the sale price at 40% off; it’s originally $14.99.”

Customer: *looking at me like I’ve just told her the earth is flat* “No, that’s not right! That’s too much!”

(She pulls out her phone to piddle on her calculator while I pull up the calculator on my hand-held and re-calculate it multiple times, coming up with the same figure. When I show her, she still doesn’t believe me, and smugly shows me her phone calculator.)

Customer: “See?! It should only be $5.97! You’re wrong!”

Me: “That’s not 60% of $14.99. Fifty percent of $14.99 is $7.50 if you think about it, so it would have to be more than that.”

(She starts punching numbers into her phone again. I’m biting back frustration and looking for a pen and a piece of paper to go full-on School House Rock on this lady and draw a diagram or something. Suddenly she stops and her face falls flat as she looks at her phone.)

Customer: “Oh. I see. I had, uh, just forgotten to hit the ‘equal’ button. Whatever.”

(I went on to cut her fabric without mentioning another word about it, and resisted the urge to bang my head on the fabric counter.)

(I work at a large retail fabric and craft store. I am working register today. All available employees are at registers, except for two girls who are working at the cutting counter with their own long line. An older lady in line has been loudly clearing her throat and moaning the whole time she’s been in line. I’ve offered to let her sit until it’s her turn, thinking that she may be hurting. She turns her nose up at me and doesn’t say anything. She continues making noises the whole time. It just so happens she gets routed to my register.)

Me: “Hello! Did you find everything you needed today?”

Customer: “I did, no thanks to any of you.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. We usually have people on the floor, but with how busy it is they’re not always out. You can always ask at customer service, and they can try to direct you, just for future reference.”

Customer: *huffs* “Yes. I can tell you’re all working so hard.”

(It’s obvious she’s being sarcastic, but I say:)

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “And another thing! Why didn’t you call anyone else up to help at registers? You usually do that. I was trying to tell you that.”

(Apparently, that was what her noises meant.)

Me: “I’m sorry. We actually have everyone available at registers right now.”

Customer: “No, you don’t!”

Me: “We only have six workers today, and it has been unusually busy. I’m sorry for your wait.”

(She huffs again and rolls her eyes.)

Customer: “You’re obviously new, so I’ll explain. Go on your radio and call those two—” *points to the cutting counter* “—to come over here on register.”

Me: “Oh. They can’t actually come over, as they have their own line to worry about. We need them at cutting counter.”

(The customer just huffs again loudly and shakes her head. I finish ringing her out and she’s about to go on her way. Then she turns to the employee on the other register, who’s been here a long while.)

Customer: “Honestly! These young people have no sense these days. Tell your manager this one needs more training!”

(The other employee did end up reporting me without asking what happened. I explained to my manager, but she said I still should have told her about the complaint. I had to rewatch all the training videos, despite the fact that everyone said I did nothing wrong.)

(I am in my junior year of college. My friend and I go to a local fabric and craft store to get some supplies for a sewing project we have in our fashion courses. It’s around the holidays, so it’s extra busy. While we are waiting in line to have some fabric cut, we start to hear a woman screaming across the store.)

Woman #1: “Help! HELP! I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!”

Me: *to friend* “Geez, someone is being demanding. Doesn’t she realize it’s busy—”

(We then hear a large crash and look behind us. [Woman #1] has another woman by the shirt collar and is smashing her into a display of greeting cards.)

Woman #1: “Help! She’s trying to steal my purse!”

Friend: “Holy s***!”

Woman #2: “No, I’m not! You’re lying! I didn’t do anything! Let me go!”

(The manager comes running to find out what is going on. Turns out [Woman #1] had her purse in the front part of her cart and while her back was turned [Woman #2] tried to grab it and run away. That’s when [Woman #1] tackled her into the card display.)

Manager: “Okay, I’ve called the police; they’ll be here to sort this out.”

Woman #2: “No! NOOOOO! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” *sobbing* “I’ve never done this before! I’m sorry! Please don’t call the cops! Let me gooooooo!”

(My friend and I collected our fabric and checked out… clutching our purses tightly to our bodies.)

Customer #1: “What is cotton made out of?”

Customer #2: “Oh, you know, the stuff that slaves pick.”

Customer #1: “I’ve got another question for you. I want to bring this roll of twenty-five yards of fabric home, cut it into curtains, hang it up, and if I like them, I’ll come back and pay for it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t allow product to leave the store without it being purchased.”

Customer #2: “What’s wrong with you?! You can trust her! You must live a pathetic life not being able to trust people!”