It’s The B*tching Hour

| NJ, USA | Right | July 20, 2017

(I work a Saturday overnight shift with a geeky friend. Our shift starts when the store closes at midnight, so we meet up about ten minutes before so we can catch up on geek gossip while he smokes a cigarette. We usually warn anyone coming up towards the doors that the store will be closing soon. Usually, customers understand and hurry to grab the essentials before the front end shuts down for the night, but one hipster guy just didn’t get it.)

Me: “Just to give you a heads up, the store closes in about ten minutes, so unless you just need to pick up a couple of things they’ll be shooing you out shortly.

Customer: “What?”

Me: “The store closes at midnight promptly.”

Customer: “Well, that’s some bull-s***. This place is 24 hours!

Me: I’m sorry, but the township prohibits 24-hour businesses. I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s an actual law here in [Town].”

Customer: “You’re s***ting me.”

Me: “Nah. I’ve lived here my whole life, and there has never been a 24-hour business within the township limits. Even 7-11 closes for a half an hour.”

Customer: “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard. You guys are a**-holes.”

Me: “No, seriously. It’s a law from when the township formed back in the 1960s that’s still on the books.”

Customer: *incoherent swearing questioning my moral fiber and parentage*

Coworker: “Aaaaaand, now you have five minutes before the store closes. If you hurry, you can still make it before the front end closes.”

Customer: “Well, f*** the both of you very much. I’ll take my business across the street.”

Coworker: “You do that.” *waits until the customer is out of earshot* “How pissed do you think he’ll be when he figures out [Other Store] closes at 11?”

Come Back When I’m Juiced Up

| NM, USA | Working | July 20, 2017

(I am a cashier at the grocery store. I am going on lunch, about 1½ hours late. I am exhausted and really hungry. I get my food and am headed to the break room when a customer stops me.)

Customer: “Can you tell me where the apple juice is?”

Me: “In the juice aisle.”

(And I walked off. I didn’t even realize what I had said until I got to the break room and sat down. I felt bad… Sorry, customer, I really am not a jerk like that!)

Quick To Complain

, | FL, USA | Working | July 13, 2017

Manager: “Are you still making those subs?”

Me: “I’m trying to make them look good, like in the display photo.”

Manager: “Hurry up and finish it! I need you to make fried chicken after this.”

Me: “Hey, do you want it done fast, or do you want it done right?”

Manager: “I want it done fast!”

Me: “You’re the boss.”

(I start making the sandwiches quickly and totally half-a**ed.)

Manager: “You’re not doing it right!”

Should Stick To Murdering Soy

| | Right | July 11, 2017

Me: *walking by a customer looking morosely at the milk* “Can I help you, miss?”

Customer: *sniffs* “I’m sorry. It’s just sad so many cows had to die for us.”

Me: *not clocking on* “Of course. I’ll just leave you to grieve.”

(I walk away and am about halfway down the aisle when I realise.)

Me: “WAIT!” *sprinting back to the customer* “That’s not blood; it’s milk!”

Customer: *bug-eyed* “I thought milk was blood?”

Me: “No, it’s like breast milk. Cow’s blood is red like ours.”

(The woman had quite a headlights moment before actually wetting herself. I’m not sure which I’m more affected by: the fact this woman wet herself upon realising we didn’t slaughter cows en masse to consume their blood, or that this adult woman had gone through her entire life up until then believing milk was actually blood.)

Common Decency Has Checked Out

, , , | Friendly | July 11, 2017

(I come to check out. While waiting to put my groceries on the counter, first an older gentleman with only a bag of chips and later a kid with only a carton of ice cream get in line behind me and I let both of them go before me when I notice. Shortly after I start to put on my stuff, the next customer to get in line behind me addresses me rudely. Note that I usually leave a gap for other customers with one or two items at the beginning.)

Customer: “Let me go in front of you.”

(I turn around and look first at her cart which is about as full as mine, then her.)

Me: “Why?”

Customer: “You let those two go first, so you should let me, too.”

Me: *blinks confused* “No?”

Customer: *glares* “Yes.”

Me: *thinks that she maybe is in a hurry* “Do you have to be somewhere? Because if you don’t, I really don’t have a reason to let you go first.”

Customer: “That’s none of your business. You only don’t want to let me go first because you are sexist.”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “You heard me!”

Me: “So, you are saying I, obviously female, am sexist for letting two males who only had one thing each? Did I get that right?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: *turns around and proceeds putting my stuff on the counter*

(For a moment the customer is quiet before she starts squeezing between me and the other line with some of her stuff in her arms. Thankfully my cart has turned slightly and is blocking her.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Customer: “You clearly left some space for ME because you do realize this is my rightful place, so I am taking it.”

Me: “No. That space is for one to two-item customers. Which at this point I am willing to let go in front of me even if they arrive after you, because you have been a jerk to me this entire time and I am a bit petty. Considering other customers probably heard you from across the shop, they will know why.”

(The customer continues to glare at me while I finish putting my groceries on the band and starts slamming her own onto it long before I am finished and not even just behind mine, instead putting her first item next to my last one. When I move to move it a bit back to put the divider-triangle-thing between our groceries she grabs my wrist.)

Customer: “Don’t touch my f***ing groceries!” *I refuse to answer that and instead go to move my own item* “WHAT DID I JUST SAY!”

Me: “I want to put my own item away so I can place the di—”

Customer: “NO! IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO FIRST, YOU PAY FOR MY GROCERIES!”

Me: “No. Let go of my wrist. You are starting to hurt me and if you damage it, I will take up charges.”

(Shocked, the customer let go and I grabbed my item, placed the divider, and started stacking my groceries, which I usually don’t like doing because I am terrible at balancing things. The rest of me paying for my groceries thankfully went out without a hitch and the cashier apologized for not reacting but said the way I was standing up to the customer suggested I had everything under control. I was too nervous to tell her the reason I hadn’t looked around for help was that that would have required eye contact which I am pretty much unable to initiate or hold.)

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