Apparently He Can’t (Dis)Count

| Raleigh, NC, USA | Working | December 12, 2016

(I’m the customer. There’s a long line at the only register so I approach the do-it-yourself machines, all vacant. I have milk and wine. The machine bleeps and flashes when I scan the wine. The nearby manager comes over with keys and asks me for I.D.)

Me: “Seriously? My grown children are in their 20s!”

Cashier: “We are told that we can’t trust our own judgment… sorry.”

(He’s already typed in a code to override and okay the sale while I open my wallet for ID. He glances toward my wallet long enough to confirm that I am holding an ID, but he’s much too far away to read the DOB.)

Cashier: “Oh, would you like the senior citizen’s discount?”

You Toy With Me I’ll Toy With You

| NY, USA | Right | December 10, 2016

(I answer the phone. The caller is male; I am female.)

Me: “[Grocery], how may I help you?”

Caller: “Your hold music is awesome.”

Me: “Thanks… What can I help you with today?”

Caller: “Do you sell…” *giggles* “…sex toys?”

Me: “No, we do not.”

Caller: *still giggling* “Oh, well, my girlf—” *I disconnect the call*

(Later, when I’m relaying the story to a coworker…)

Me: “I should have said ‘no, you’ll have to find another way to go f*** yourself.'”

Has The Mental Capacity Of A Cupcake

| Long Beach, CA, USA | Working | December 9, 2016

(I’m the customer in this story. My daughter’s first birthday is coming up in a week, so I decide to go to a popular chain grocery store to order a custom birthday cake for her to smash up. I go online and find a photo on a photographer’s website of another baby eating the cake that I want made and print it out to take with me, to help avoid confusion. The cake is iced to look like a giant cupcake. At the store, my husband, baby daughter, and I go to the bakery counter together.)

Employee: “Hi, can I help you with something?”

Me: “Yes, I’d like to order a custom birthday cake for my daughter’s first birthday, please.”

Employee: *sigh* “Sure, I can help you with that.”

Me: *hands employee the picture* “I’d like the cake in this photo, please.”

Employee: *glances at photo* “Okay. What’s your name?”

Me: “It’s [My Name].”

Employee: “And your phone number?”

Me: “It’s [phone number].”

Employee: “What size cake do you want?”

Me: *glancing pointedly at the photo* “Um, eight-inch round?”

Employee: “Uh huh. Flavor?”

Me: “Vanilla.”

Employee: “Whipped cream or butter-cream frosting?”

Me: “Whipped cream.”

Employee: “What color do you want the frosting?”

Me: *again looking pointedly at the photo* “Red on the bottom, blue on top?”

Employee: “Um, okay. So we’re doing a photo cake?”

Me: *pointing at the photo of the child that’s obviously not mine eating cake* “I don’t want the photo on the cake; I want the cake in the photo.”

Employee: “What?”

Me: “I don’t want a photo cake. I want the cake that looks like a cupcake that the kid is eating.”

Employee: “I don’t understand.”

Me: *taking a deep breath* “I want an eight-inch round cake, vanilla cake, whipped cream icing, iced to look like the cake the child is eating in this picture. Red icing on the bottom for the muffin tin, blue on top. It should look like a cupcake.”

Employee: “Um, okay?”

(I spent the next 10 minutes explaining over and over what I wanted. I ended up cutting out the picture of just the cake and showing it to her that way. I think she finally got it, but we’ll see what I pick up next week!)

Getting Nowhere Fast

| Athens, GA, USA | Right | December 8, 2016

(I have been working as a cashier for only a couple months now and have been struggling with going as fast as the company wants me to, according to the ‘Items Per Minute’ score tracked by the register. On this particular night, I notice that my score is significantly higher than it has ever been before, so I decide to challenge myself and try to get my score as high as possible. All of my customers seem very enthusiastic when I explain this to them, even complimenting me on how great a job I’m doing. Right before I clock out, only two customers are remaining in my line. I do not mention what is going on to either customer; I just process their groceries as normal.)

Customer #1: *in a very annoyed tone* “You need to calm down!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer #1: “You’re going way too fast! You need to go home and calm down!”

Me: *stunned and confused* “Well, I’m going home after I finish checking out you and the man behind you.”

Customer #1: “Good! You’re way too fast! You’re rushing people!” *storms off angrily*

Customer #2: *walks up to me as I begin scanning his groceries* “Don’t listen to her, honey. You’re doing a wonderful job. Don’t let her tell you how to do your job.”

Me: “Oh, thank you! Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just confused more than anything. I’ve never heard of anyone complaining that their cashier was too fast before.”

Surviving On $1.24

| WY, USA | Working | December 7, 2016

(This occurs just after the 2016 Presidential election, when disappointment and tensions are high on the losing side.)

Cashier: “Hi there, how’re you doing today?”

Me: “Oh, pretty well, how about you?”

Cashier: “Oh, you know, surviving.”

Me: “Yeah, sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Cashier: “Sometimes it’d be nice to do something besides just survive, you know?”

Me: *after a pause* “I almost made a political comment, but that might not be a good idea.”

Cashier: *quietly* “I think I know the comment you were going to make, and I know how you feel.” *louder* “Okay, your total is $25.24 today.”

Me: “Crap, I only have $24 in bills; I’m going to have to give you some change.”

Cashier: “Here, let me fix that.” *knocks $1.24 off the bill*


Cashier: “I’m sure there was something in there that should be on sale.”

(I don’t know if it was just because the store was so busy and he didn’t want to wait for me to count coins, or if it was political commiseration, but it made my night!)

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