(I’m a 23 year old female cashier. I’m almost deaf, and I’m left handed at a register normally made for right handed people, so it was kinda clunky. My customer is an older black woman.)

Me: your total is (total).

Customer: do you use the chips?

Me: yes, we use them. Just stick it on in.

(After two tries, the register declines the card, suggesting she contact the issuer of the card she used.)

Customer: I have another card in my car. Can I grab it?

Me: No problem.

(Five minutes later)

Customer: I found the card, but this is embarrassing. Why’d you make it so difficult? Why didn’t you tell me you take the chips?

Me: … I did, ma’am.

Customer: no, you said to swipe it. I know I have money in my account! See?!

(For a reason out of my control, the same card worked. I later found out she called her bank while she was out.)

Me: I said before though that we use the chips. It couldn’t have been declined without you inserting the chip first.

Customer: you really need to provide better suggestions to your customers! This was so embarrassing! If only you told me you used chips!

(I ignore her and she leaves)

Next customer: ummm… what was that? Does she think you personally approve or decline cards?

Me: I’ll believe anything at this point.

(I found out she called to complain later, but my manager told her exactly what I said, so we joked about it.)

The store I work for recently sold cake moulds in the shape of numbers.
Customer: ‘I’m returning this moulds. They don’t have a number 9. That’s just ageist.’
Me: ‘Sorry ma’am the number 6 can also be used as a 9 by turning it upside down. That’s why there isn’t a separate mould for it.’
The lady glared and left the store with her moulds.

An elderly woman comes up to my till, continuously reminding her husband to mention the elder discount. I’m new at my job, but I doubt that the store has a discount for the elderly.

Woman: “We would like to use our elder discount. We are over fifty so we get it.”

Me: *Turning to a coworker* “Do we have a discount specifically for the elders?”

Coworker: “Not that I know of; let me go check.”

While my coworker is checking, the woman goes down the line that is growing, letting them know that our store is a poor place to shop and that they don’t appreciate their customers. I stand there, not knowing what to do, so I just ignore her. When my coworker returns, things get more out of hand.

Coworker: “There was an ad in the paper for a [Same Brand Store] in another town.”

Woman: “This is an outrage! I’m fifty and I deserve a discount! I read it in the paper and you have to give it to me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that was for a different branch.”

Woman: “I’m over fifty, so I deserve a discount. I’m never shopping here again!”

She continues yelling this at me a couple of times. Still not reacting to her childish behavior, I hand her her change and receipt, looking at her directly in the eyes with a large grin. 

Me: “Well, have a wonderful July 4th.” 

While leaving the store, she began to fist pump and chant that our store sucks, hoping to have the other customers back her up. When she realized no one would, she sighed heavily and left.

I work at a local grocery store in an upper middle class town, so you see plenty of picky, and straight up strange customers. I ended up lucking out and getting a wierd one. I always like to small talk with customers, and the conversation quickly gets awkward.

Customer: Whats your favorite kind of music?

Me: I always loved rock and roll, maybe because my mom used to be a music manager (She worked at Sony for a while).

Customer: Music Manager huh? *begins scribbling down something on a piece of paper* Is your mom single?

Me: Nope, shes happily married with two kids.

Customer: Well at least let her know that Im interested. *hands me the slip of paper that has his name and number on it*

Me: Umm sure I’ll do that.

Customer: Ask her about what she thinks about Bob Dylan winning a nobel prize. If she thinks that he shouldnt have gotten it, then its clear that we’re meant for each other.

Me: Im not sure what she thinks, I haven’t asked.

Customer: Oh, well have a good day *looks disappointed*

Me: *Throws out the piece of paper he gave me immediately after he left*

I’m in the store with my service dog tucked next to my feet while I wait to check out. A young girl of about five stops dead to stare at my dog from about ten feet away. I brace myself for the tantrum from her or her mother when I tell her she can’t pet him.

Little Girl: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Little Girl: “I know he’s doing a job right now, but when you get home, could you tell him he’s a good boy?”

She then skipped off back to her parents without coming any closer. I would like to find that little girl and tell her I told him, and to tell her parents they’ve got a great kid!