I’m an assistant manager at a supermarket. There are two others there, as well, and only two are needed at customer service, so I help out with bagging. The cashier is new and somewhat inexperienced. If a customer comes up with a bag of bread that they’ve selected themselves, we’re either supposed to count them if it’s a small number, or ask them how many there are, and if it looks reasonable, we take them at their word.

Cashier: “Hello! How are you, ma’am?”

Customer: “Fine, thanks.”

The cashier starts scanning items and comes to a bag of bread.

Cashier: “How many?”

Customer: “Six.”

The cashier puts six into the transaction, but with the bag as big as it is, I know there’s no way it could only contain six. I pull the clear bag out of the brown bag and quickly count them after she sends the bag down my way. I count fifteen.

Me: “[Cashier], it’s fifteen, not six.”

She turns to me because she didn’t hear, so I repeat it. The customer gives me a dirty look.

Customer: “That’s not right.”

Me: “There were fifteen breads; you said there were only six.”

Customer: “I know, but that’s not right.”

Me: “What’s not right?”

Customer: “You make it look like I’m trying to steal.”

Me: “Ma’am, she asked how many breads there were, and you deliberately said that there were a lot fewer than there actually are.”

Customer: “I don’t care. Get me your manager!”

My manager was nearby in the customer service area, so I went to get her. As I walked through the door and explained it to her, the customer barged through the door, like she was going to attack me or something. The owner, a huge, over-six-feet-tall bald man, grabbed her and pinned her to the ground while I called the police. She ranted and raved, but since we had the security footage, she was escorted out by the cops.

I’m working the closing shift when a young couple walks in. They wander around for a while and then the young woman comes up to me.

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

Woman: “Yeah, I’ve got an embarrassing question.”

Me: “Oh?

Woman: “Yeah… Do you have Plan B?”

I look at her, look at the boyfriend, and then look back to her.

Me: “That’s a prescription-grade drug. They don’t sell those in grocery stores. [Pharmacy Chain] is open twenty-four hours a day and they sell it.”

Woman: “Oh, thank God. How much is it going to cost?”

Me: “Around fifty dollars.”

Man: “What?! Why is it so much?”

Me: “Because condoms are four dollars for a three-pack and it’s still way cheaper than a baby.”

She laughed and berated him as he mumbled and grumbled about something I couldn’t hear as they left the store. I just hope they were old enough to buy Plan B and that I didn’t send them on a fruitless mission.

I am a personal shopper at a grocery store. We have special scanners that only scan the barcodes of items that are on the list submitted by the customer. There is a way to get around not scanning an item, but we’re only supposed to use that method with produce items.

Unfortunately, a lot of my coworkers do this with products elsewhere in the store, resulting in customers getting stuff they didn’t order. Before I came in for my shift, a customer came inside and went up to customer service. The customer service manager just happened to be the one to greet him.

Customer: “I want to exchange this soap. A few days ago, your shopper messed up my order and gave me the wrong soap! This is unacceptable.”

Customer Service Manager: “I’m sorry about that. Who shopped your order?”

Customer: “[My Name].”

Customer Service Manager: “[My Name], really? That doesn’t sound like her.”

Customer: “We’ve been shopping here for years, and this is unacceptable. We might have to switch to [Competitor].”

Customer Service Manager: “All right, let me pull up your order so I can see which soap you ordered.”

He pulls the order up on the computer.

Customer Service Manager: “Sir, it looks like you did order this soap.”

Customer: “I did not!”

Customer Service Manager: *Prints out the order* “Look, here’s the soap, [soap], and this is the UPC. If you look at the UPC on the back of the soap, you will see that it matches. You did order this soap. However, if you want to exchange it, we can do that.”

Customer: “Oh… um, what I meant was… my wife ordered the wrong soap. I would like to exchange it.”

When I come in a few hours later, the customer service manager tells me what happened.

Me: “Seriously?”

Customer Service Manager: *Joking* “Don’t you know you’re supposed to know if they order the wrong thing?”

Related:
Turning Into A Soap Opera

I often wear a necklace sold by my favorite band to work. The necklace is an Australian one-cent coin along with a charm of the band’s logo. Customers will sometimes ask me about the necklace, or if they recognize it, will start talking about the band. Most customers understand my explanation of the coin, but this customer takes the cake.

Me: “Hello.”

I go through the spiel as I scan groceries.

Customer: “What’s that you’re wearing?”

Me: “Oh, it’s an Australian penny. My favorite band is Australian and they sell these necklaces.”

Customer: “Really? I thought that was Queen Elizabeth on it.”

Me: “It is Queen Elizabeth. It’s an Australian coin.”

Customer: “But it has Queen Elizabeth on it.”

Me: “Yes, Australia is part of the British Commonwealth.”

Customer: *Pause* “Are you Australian?”

Me: “No, but my favorite band is. They sell these necklaces to symbolize that you’re priceless. I think the proceeds go to help fight human trafficking.”

Customer: “But it has Queen Elizabeth on it.”

Me: “Yes, it does.”

The customer didn’t say anything else the rest of the time, but she did look extremely confused. I thought it was common knowledge that Australia was a part of the British Commonwealth.

We’ve changed where people wait in line in order to give plenty of space between customers and staff for health reasons. Yes, we have tons of signs, but no, customers don’t read them. 

This customer approaches our lane to unload, but my coworker is still cleaning it.

Me: *Pointing* “Sir, you’re actually going to wait there by the big orange arrow, and we’ll call you over when we’re ready.”

The customer looks confused and puts a hand around his ear in the “I can’t hear you” gesture. I’m talking very loudly — I have stage training and know how to enunciate — but I am on the other side of the bag stand and wearing a mask.

Coworker: *Even louder* “You need to wait over there until we call you!”

Customer: *Extremely upset* “Well, there’s no reason to yell at me! I just couldn’t hear!”

I, along with another coworker and the shift leader who came over to make sure there wasn’t trouble all reply at the same time:

Us: “That’s exactly why I/she had to yell!”

I was hoping that wearing a mask from the eyes down would get rid of the concept of “resting b**** face” but apparently, it’s just mutated into the vocal cords.

This story is part of our Anti-Masker roundup.

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