I am out with my four-year-old daughter at the beach. My wife calls to tell me to pick some fresh vegetables we had ran out of. The grocery store is on our way home, so it’s okay.

At the store, I exchange pleasantries with the owner (an old classmate of mine) and stay outside looking for what we need, while my daughter enters the store to talk with the owner’s son (same age, same preschool).

The owner has two customers inside the store. Next to me is a lovely old lady that asks if I can help put some of her groceries in her cart, especially two five-kg bags of potatoes. I see no reason not to and I put them in the cart.

She thanks me, half in my language, and half in Russian. I reply in kind, as I understand some of the language from when I was growing up. She smiles and waves goodbye and I return to my browsing. Then the other customer emerges…

Customer: “You! I want 3kg of onions, 4kg of potatoes and 3kg of tomatoes! And be fast about it! I’m in a hurry!”

I turn around to see a middle-aged woman in a sundress, sunglasses, big hat, THAT stereotypical haircut, with her arms crossed in front of her and tapping her foot. The store is self-service.  

I’m wearing swim trunks, an old t-shirt, flip-flops, my beach towel is draped on my shoulder and I am carrying a ridiculously huge beach bag. I give her no mind and return to my shopping. Big mistake, as she grabs me by the shoulder!

Customer: “I gave you an order boy! Now do it or I’ll get you fired!”

Me: “I don’t work here!”

Customer: “Don’t give me that BS! I saw you helping that other woman.”

Me: “She kindly asked for my help to move the bags. I still don’t work here.”

Customer: “So you only help your compatriots you little s***? What a disgrace!”

She then goes on a very racist rant, cursing every other word. At some point, we had gathered spectators. The owner had come out, along with the kids. My daughter decides to come to my “rescue”.

Daughter: “Why are you screaming at my father? He already told you he doesn’t work here.”

Customer: “Because he doesn’t know his place! Now go away!”

The owner is about to step in, when my daughter turns around, drops her bikini bottom, moons her and blows a raspberry. The customer is momentarily stunned, before she manages to say:

Customer: “That’s… rude.”

Daughter: “Well, I’m four. What’s your excuse?”

At that point, the owner steps in and tells her to leave and that her business is not welcomed there. The rest of us have a good laugh, we pick our groceries and go home.

Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 34
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 33
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 32
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 31
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 30

I am at the grocery store where I used to work, picking up a few things for the week, including a case of beer. The cashier, who I do not know, asks for my ID. I show her and she moves on with the transaction. I am twenty-one and she had no problem with me purchasing this alcohol.

She is almost done with the rest of my items when one of my mom’s former students sees me and runs up to give me a hug. She is in middle school now, so she is only twelve or thirteen. Remember that this girl has only just shown up and our conversation indicates that we have not seen each other for a while and we are not together.

Cashier: “You’re going to need to wait for my manager to come void the alcohol; I can’t sell this to you.”

Me: “But I already showed you my ID; it clearly states I am old enough.”

Cashier: “Yes, but you are with a minor, and store policy states that I cannot allow you to purchase this.” 

This confuses me because I clearly remember from training that there can be some exceptions to selling alcohol to people who are accompanied by minors, mostly parents who are shopping with their kids.

Me: “She is not with me. I just happened to run into her. It’s not like we are going to the same place.”

Cashier: “You could have planned to make it look like you just ran into her. I have no way of knowing and I’m not going to get fired because some kid asked you to buy them beer!”

The student’s dad is aware of the situation and steps in at this point to confirm that we definitely did not come to the store together and I am not purchasing alcohol for his daughter.

Student’s Dad: “Look, I know they can be strict about this, but I can promise you that [My Name] is telling the truth.”

Cashier: “Well, we’ll see about that!”

One of my former managers finally arrives, and after listening to the situation, just rolls his eyes.

Manager: “Yeah, [Cashier], why don’t you just go bag on another lane; I’ll take care of this.” 

The cashier leaves.

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], sorry about that. I’ve had to talk to her a few times about this. Last week, she tried to deny cigarettes to a guy who was with his eight-year-old son! Looks like I might need to ask another manager to try and get through to her. Here’s your receipt!”

I saw that same manager a few weeks later, and he told me they had to fire her for stealing loyalty points from customers!

We have courtesy clerks, who are also called baggers. Most people hired are hired as courtesy clerks and make their way up through different positions in the store. If you have special skills, such as a butcher or cake decorator you get hired directly to that department. I was hired as a cashier.

My bagger and I are moving along like a well-oiled machine. I’m very fast and he is able to keep up with me with no problems. My bagger is great at his job; he knows not to put the potatoes on the eggs and to keep the frozen foods together, etc.

My customer does not like at all how he is bagging and everything he puts in a bag is wrong.

Customer: “No, put that with the bread!”

Customer: “No no, that goes with the ice cream! Are you stupid? You are doing it all wrong!”

We both try to remain polite and he just does as asked. She finally yells:

Customer: “Get out of here! I’ll just do it myself!”

My bagger comes up and whispers to me:

Bagger: “I’m gonna use the bathroom before I say something I’ll regret.”

Customer: *Yells* “Get me your manager!”

The manager comes over and the customer starts with all kinds of lies.

Customer: “He was being rude, he was throwing my groceries, refusing to bag them, he called me names, and he whispered something nasty about me to the cashier.”

About this time my bagger returns. My manager tells him to go clock out and go home. I am in shock. The next person in line is with the shouting customer, and she looks so embarrassed.

Customer’s Friend: *Quietly* “I’m sorry. She is actually very nice.”

Since she is the last in line, after she leaves I turn off my light and go to the office to talk to my manager.

Me: “[Bagger] did everything by the book. That customer was absolutely in the wrong!”

My manager knows I would never lie so we watch the CCTV and although there is no sound, we can tell exactly what happened from the body language. We find [Bagger] getting his stuff from his locker.

Manager: “I apologize. [My Name] stood up for you and told me what happened. You can leave but you’ll still be paid for the day.”

Never saw that customer again.

I am working checkouts when my customer notices a discrepancy with the price of an item.

Customer: “Excuse me, the price of that ice cream is wrong.”

Me: “How so?”

Customer: “Well, you have charged me $4.00, yet it is on special for $2.00.”

Me: “Let me just check on that… where did you see it advertised on special?”

Customer: “It was in your catalog.”

Me: “Okay, let me just have a look.”

I then browse the catalog, and find no mention of the ice cream being on special.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but it is not in the catalog.” 

Customer: “Yes it is.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but I have just looked through the entire catalog, and it is not in here.”

Customer: “Give that to me.”

He grabs the catalog out of my hands and looks through it. He then looks through it a second time, and then throws it down.

Customer: “This is the wrong catalog. Why have you shown me the wrong catalog? I want to speak to a supervisor.”

Me: “Excuse me, sir, but this is the correct catalog. If you have a look at the front page of the catalog, you will see the dates that the specials are on for.”

Customer: “Don’t give me any of this nonsense. Leave all my stuff here, I’m going home to get the catalog that YOU guys put in MY mailbox, to show YOU what the specials are.”

Me: “Okay, sir.”

He leaves and I do a deferred sale, even though I am not expecting him to come back. Amazingly, thirty minutes later, he does, and he came straight to my checkout, trying to interrupt my sale.

Customer: “See, I told you.”

Me: “Excuse me, sir, do you mind waiting while I serve this customer?”

Customer: “No… you pay attention to me, and now.”

I turn to the customer on my checkout.

Me: “I’ll just be a second.”

Then to the original customer:

Me: “Fine, show me.”

He opens the catalog, straight to where the ice-cream is on special, but I had already noticed three things wrong with it. I am going to bring each of them up, one at a time.

Me: “Firstly, sir, the ice-cream that is on special, it may be the same brand that you are trying to purchase, but it is the wrong size.”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, the one you are trying to purchase is a 2-litre tub of ice-cream. The one on special is the 1-litre tub.”

Customer: “I don’t care… still give me the special.”

Me: “Well, if I was to still give you the special, it would be the same sort of special as there is of the 1-litre tub… which would mean that you would actually be paying MORE.”

Customer: “This is just flagrant mis-advertising.”

Me: “Secondly, look at the dates of the specials… this was LAST WEEKS catalog.”

Customer: “I didn’t know of the special last week… you should keep them running for longer.”

Me: “And finally, I would like you to look at the store sign above you.”

Customer: “Okay, and—”

Me: “And now look at the logo on the front of the catalog.”

Customer: “And—”

Me: “Now compare the two… are they the same?”

Customer: “Um…”

The customer became very quiet, and quickly scurried out of there.

Related:
When Ice Cream Really Does Make You Scream

I work for a well-known supermarket delivering groceries to customers at home. I should note that it is company policy that delivery drivers do not accept tips, but often customers more or less force it into your hand. In this instance, I have been given a re-drop — essentially a delivery that was unsuccessful the previous day usually because the driver couldn’t be bothered. I have been warned that the customer is very rude.

It has been scheduled for three pm this day and, after noting the address, which is one I am familiar with, I decide to call the customer to confirm which floor of the building he is on.

Me: “Hi, is that [Customer].”

Customer: “Yes, it certainly is.”

Me: “Hi, it’s [My Name] calling from [Supermarket] Home Delivery. I’ve got your delivery here and I’m just about to leave…”

Customer: “Ah, yes, are you aiming to deliver for about three pm?”

Me: “Yes, I am. Is that okay?”

Customer: “I’m sorry to ask this, but is there any chance I could get it a little later? I’m trying to get home but I’m stuck in traffic at the minute.”

Me: “No problem at all. I’m working until six today so I can get it out to you anytime really up until five pm; just let me know what works for you.”

Customer: “If you could do it at around 4:30, that would be great.”

Me: “No problem, mate. Now, while I have you, you live at [Address]; is that correct?”

Customer: “It is.”

Me: “If I remember correctly, that’s the one where I need to enter via the underground car park. I just wanted to confirm which floor your flat is on.”

Customer: “That’s exactly right. I’m on the sixth floor. Just give me a ring before you leave and I’ll let you know if I’m in or not.”

I’m a little surprised that this customer is apparently “so rude” when he seemed very friendly on the phone. I get his delivery to his building almost dead on at 4:30 pm and buzz his flat. He comes down and leads me up in the lift. We confirm that all the shopping was delivered. He is even very understanding about substitutes and items unavailable. He is incredibly friendly. I get his signature for delivery and he hands me £5.

Customer: “Thank you so much for getting this to me. Please have a nice day. Could you let me know how I can avoid problems like this next time?”

So, we talked for a few minutes about what went wrong with his last delivery, and it appears the original driver ignored his directions on how to reach the underground car park, got angry, and drove off, even though the customer was outside waving at him and trying to direct him. I apologized for this. He asked that no one lose their job, just that he could get a different driver next time.

I would later speak to the original driver, who insisted the customer was “very rude.” Well, his loss and my gain of £5!