I work as an assistant manager at a pizzeria, and my job is a little bit of everything. Yesterday, a paper towel dispenser wasn’t working; the batteries that powered it were dead. We didn’t have any spares in the restaurant, so I took my motorcycle to my local grocery store down the road.

I went in and swerved past all the people doing their dinnertime shopping. After years of stopping at the store, many of the employees know me as “the dude who works at the pizza place down the road,” and I was in full uniform, wearing jeans and a black shirt that had bits of flour on the shoulders. The logo of the pizza company was plastered on my chest as well as the middle of my red apron.

I went to the location of the batteries — a counter between check stands three and four — and began looking for D batteries. Before I could reach out and grab my choice, I heard an “ahem” from behind me.

Customer: “Excuse me. Do you have any toilet paper?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t work here, but I think they’re on aisle twelve.”

Customer: *Huffing* “Well, are you going to take me there?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t work here.”

I grab my batteries.

Customer: “Don’t lie to me. You’re wearing an apron!”

Just then, a cashier who I know opens check stand four. I swerve past the customer and place my batteries on the conveyor belt

Cashier: “He, [My Name], how’s it going?”

Customer: “Excuse me. I want to complain about this rude employee of yours.” *Points a finger at me* “He won’t show me where the toilet paper is.”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t work here.”

Customer: “Then why are you wearing an apron?”

I point to the pizzeria logo on my apron.

Me: “I work at [Pizzeria] down the road. I don’t work here. I just came here for batteries.”

Cashier: “The batteries come to $11.50.”

I pay for the batteries and turn to the customer one last time.

Me: “The toilet paper is on aisle twelve. Have a nice day.”

At the end of the night, I went back to the grocery store with a box of pepperoni pizza. I saw [Cashier] closing a register, and we had a laugh as she told me this was not the first time that particular customer had mistaken another customer for an employee.

I work in a grocery store that loves a good food pun. This particular season we have a display of gift cards at every register that feature various cutesy food puns: “You’re a really big dill!” or, “Lettuce taco ’bout love,” etc.

A customer comes to my register and casually sifts through the gift cards as I ring up her purchase. Suddenly, her face goes from neutral to outraged. She grabs a gift card from the rack and shoves it in my face.

Customer: “I can’t believe you would put this out here for people to see!”

Me: “That gift card? What’s wrong with it?”

Customer: “Well, call me old-fashioned, but this saying is very suggestive and inappropriate. What if a child were to see this and ask what it means?”

Me: “I thought it was kind of cute. I don’t think the idea of hugging and kissing is too taboo, even for children.”

Customer: “…wait, how do you pronounce this?”

The gift card she was holding said, “Hugs and quiches,” which most people would interpret to mean, “Hugs and kisses.” Unfamiliar with how to pronounce “quiche,” she had understood it to mean, “Hugs and quickies.”

My name tag says “Front End.” A couple comes into my line.

Man: “’Front End’? Who goes in the rear end?” 

Woman: “[Man]!” *To me* “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” 

Man: “Sorry.”

I was on tills at a neighborhood grocery store. Around noon, an old lady came up with a large basketful of groceries. I scanned them all and placed them on the left-hand side of the till. I always place unscanned items on the right desk and the scanned items on the left.

While scanning, I asked for her membership card, which she presented. After I scanned the last item, I mentioned the total, which was around £40, and asked, “Will that be cash or card?”

The lady probably didn’t hear me and started packing her items. I asked her three times, as loud as I could without screaming. My eyes met with the next customer, and I gave them a bemused look.

Then, to my surprise, the old lady started walking off with the groceries! I pressed on my headset to ask how I should respond.

I deducted her groceries from her membership points since she had enough points to pay for most of the items; I used her points to try to minimize the loss of the store.

Then, my manager said, “Stop her!” I left the till to try to stop her, but my manager was faster. After pointing from afar to confirm whether the lady near the door was the one that hadn’t paid, he said to the lady, “My colleague is waiting for you to pay for your stuff.”

She returned to the till and paid for her items. After I took off her points, I think it was about £0.20 remaining that she needed to pay.

After this incident, I asked my manager what I should have done and he said, “If it’s old ladies, try to stop them. If it’s guys who can beat you up, just let it go.”

As I’m going about my business on the shop floor, I spot a lost toy unattended. I immediately pick the bunny up, check for damage, and then look around. There are no shoppers with young children in sight. I head to take it to customer service. I find one aisle on my route with multiple pushchairs and whatnot, including one child on the verge of tears. I decide to take a shot in the dark.

Me: *Loudly* “EXCUSE ME! Does anybody recognise this bunny?”

Mum: “Oh, my goodness, YES! Oh, you’re my hero!”

It’s the mum of the nearly crying child, so I return BunBuns and the child immediately resumes smiling. The mum thanks me and then tends to her child. Unfortunately, right at this moment, an infamously grumpy coworker who’s terrible with children makes her presence known, and it seems she saw what happened.

Coworker: *To the child* “You were silly to let go of that!” *To the mum* “And you should know better, trusting him with something so easy to lose in a supermarket of all places!”

She stomped off, completely oblivious to the dirty stares she was receiving. The mum was taken aback, and the child started crying. Thanks, [Coworker]. I really appreciate you undoing my good deed like that.