I’m stocking a shelf when a customer behind me practically yells in my ear:
Customer: “FRESH MOZZARELLA?!”
I then realize she’s been saying that a few times, and I tuned it out because I didn’t register it as directed at me. I’ve never been trained to respond to the phrase “fresh mozzarella,” you know!
Me: “Did you want to know where it is?”
Customer: “Well, duh! Isn’t it obvious?!”
Me: “No, because other customers use full sentences.”
I am checking out a customer who is here with her daughter and her mother, so three generations of women. The daughter — four years old — is having a great time talking to herself. The grandmother seems to be upset by this.
Grandma: “It’s totally inappropriate for her to have an imaginary friend, and I’m embarrassed by it!”
Mom: *To Grandma* “You get on your knees every night and talk to your sky friend and ask him to forgive you for gambling even though you play the lottery every week. She’s a four-year-old girl. What’s your excuse?”
The deli is about to close up. This guy comes up.
Customer: “Get me a liter of ham.”
I pause, thinking I heard wrong.
Me: “Oh, a pound of ham?”
Customer: “No, I said a liter of ham.”
My gears are really turning.
Me: “Do you mean the ham salad we sell in the cups?”
Customer: “Nope. I want very thin sliced ham. A liter of it.”
Me: “That’s a liquid measurement. What you want can only be obtained if we have a food processor, which we do not.”
Customer: *Getting angry* “You must be new! That’s what my wife told me, and that’s what I want to get.”
Me: “Look, I’ll slice you up a pound of ham. If I’m wrong, you or your wife can come back, and we’ll refund you and give you whatever it is you’re asking for.”
He agreed.
He never came back.
His wife probably thought he was an idiot.
An older lady customer approaches me as I stock items in our cutlery section.
Customer: “Oh, excuse me! Can you tell me where I can find [produce item]?”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t work in the produce department, but I can walk you over to one of my coworkers who—”
Customer: “I was just over there, but all the workers there couldn’t help me.”
Me: “That’s strange. I happen to know four people working in the produce department today. Let’s go see if we can find—”
Customer: *Insistent* “No, it needs to be you! I want you to help me!”
Me: “But I don’t know where [item] is, ma’am. Why does it have to be me?”
Customer: “Because you’re an American! Those other people were… not!”
Me: “Ma’am, are you saying that because I am white, and my coworkers in produce are Black and Asian?”
Customer: “Don’t make me sound like I’m racist!”
Me: “Oh, don’t worry, you’re doing that all on your own.”
Customer: “Look, I’m not trying to make a fuss! Just show me there [item] is without attacking my opinion!”
Me: “I’d try to share my opinion, too, ma’am, but I wasn’t born with enough middle fingers to express myself in this case.”
Customer: “That’s so offensive! Get me your manager!”
Me: “Yes, I’ll go get my manager because I’m the offensive one.”
The look on her face when she met my manager, Mr. Myeong, was priceless…
Customer: “I need to complain! This cheese expired in 1123!”
Me: “That’s November of 2023.”
Customer: “Oh… Well, they should make it clearer!”
Me: “Sure, I’ll tell them to make it clearer that our cheese isn’t nine hundred years old.”
