Serving Donald Trump

| Portland, OR, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry

(I work as a U-Scan attendant at a large grocery store. The company is currently running a promotion for a new line of Mexican food, which means we get to wear t-shirts that say “Taste of Mexico” on the front.)

Customer: “Why are you wearing all that Mexican stuff? We have enough Mexicans around here.”

Me: *walking away* “Oh… kay…”

I Pronounce Thee Idiot

, | NY, USA | Food & Drink, Language & Words, Popular

Customer: *over dressed for our grocery store location, and speaking with the sort of tone you normally reserve for children* “Give me three la-Zaa-nya squares, an eggplant salad, and one bru-Skeee-ta.

(The customer throws on a really thick, and sudden accent when pronouncing the food. He smiles at me in a way that makes me think I’m supposed to be impressed by this.)

Me: *punching in the order, and repeating it back using the accepted American pronunciation of the words ‘lasagna ‘ and ‘bruschetta* “Three lasagna squares, one large eggplant salad, one bruschetta.”

Customer: “Bru-Skeeeeh-ta” *he drags out the pronunciation even more*

Me: “One bruschetta.” *I agree, again, as per our store policy*

Customer: *looking self important* “It’s actually an Italian word? See if it were German, you would say it the way you’re saying it, but it’s not. Bru-SKEH-ta. See?”

Me: “If you say so, sir.” *getting his order ready, at this point, I’m too tired to deal with him*

Customer: “It’s just like ‘SPUH-geeh-tee’.” He grins at me.

Me: “Of course, sir.”

Customer: “You look like a nice Italian girl. Don’t you want to learn the language?”

Me: *handing him his food* “I’m a boy, sir.”

(His face dropped, and turned an interesting shade of red. He snatched his food away and spit something in what I could only presume is very overly-pronounced Italian at me, before hurrying away.)

A Grape Way To Deal With Customers

| Calgary, AB, Canada | Food & Drink, Money

Me: *answering phone* “Good evening, this is [Grocery Store]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, my husband was in earlier and I find it hard to believe that the grapes he bought were so expensive! I think they were weighed incorrectly.”

Me: “Oh, well, if you would be able to come into the store, I can re-weigh them for you and correct for any price discrepancy.”

Customer: “Uh… I have to come in? Ugh.” *hangs up*

Me: *staring confusedly at the phone* “How else does she expect a price change to work?”

Half-Baked Assumptions

| VA, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry

(I’m shopping at a store I used to work at when a man I don’t know walks up to me.)

Man: “Excuse me, do you know where I can find baking powder?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s over on aisle seven, near the flour.”

Man: “Thanks!”

Me: *after remembering I don’t work here and have nothing on that looks like the uniforms worn there* “Wait, why did you ask me that?”

Man: “Because you’re a woman. All women know where stuff like that is.”

Married To The Job

| Clifton, NJ, USA | Crazy Requests, Spouses & Partners

(It is about five minutes before the end of my shift and I have just escorted a customer to the product he wanted.)

Me: “Is there was anything else you need?”

Customer: “No, thanks; I have everything. Thank you for your help.”

(When I turn around, I see my husband standing a few feet away, waiting for me to finish my shift. I told him I had to clock out and gave him a quick kiss. From behind me I hear my previous customer ask with a chuckle and wink:)

Customer: “What do I have to do to get customer service like that?”

Me: “You’d have to marry me; this is my husband!”