(The store is doing remodeling from a basic grocery store to a more all-in-one store, and as a result, they have additional workers, aisles or even whole categories moved to a different location, roped-off and plastic-covered areas, and other frustrations. I have just gotten off work and my mom tells me she needs me to pick up a few things she forgot when she went shopping. Due to the store having changed everything, she is on the phone with me, walking me through to where she remembered items being a few days ago.)

Mom: “The next aisle should have [items].”

(I leave the current aisle, about to make a u-turn into the next aisle, when I see that they have blocked off the area with some plastic from the roof to the floor and that what sign was there has been ripped off. I don’t tell her this until I see that the next available aisle has items that in no way match the items she told me.)

Me: “Crap, they moved it.”

Mom: “Well, f***. Try to see if you can find them or somebody wearing the construction orange shirts that might be able to help you. Until then…”

(She keeps guiding me and, for the most part, the items are either in the area, or she’s close enough that I find them within an aisle of where she remembers them being. However, I have yet to find the items from the moved aisle until I finally approach one of the employees.)

Me: “Do you know where [items] are?”

Employee: “Yes, they are—“

(Sadly, I forget I had the phone to my ear and the employee is drowned out by my mom.)

Mom: “Why are you asking me? You just told me they were moved!”

(Realizing I’m dealing with both the phone and an employee at the same time, I release a sheepish chuckle. I’m performing my own pet peeve, so decide to hang up.)

Me: “Hang on. I found one of the guides; I’ll call you back.”

(As I’m hanging up, the guy looks somewhat shocked, and visibly braces for something.)

Me: “Yeah, can you show me where you moved [items], please? My mom, who I was talking to, was leading me around, but you must have moved them in the last few days.”

Employee: “Oh, yes! They are [directions]. Would you like for me to show you?”

Me: “That’s fine, but I’m sure they’d prefer you to stay in your area so that others can find you. But is something wrong?”

Employee: “No, I’m just shocked you got off the phone and actually asked, as opposed to yelling at me.”

(As I hear him say that last part, I cringe before shaking my head.)

Me: “Yeah, I can only picture it, as I passed by another guide that was getting the tenth-degree including every combo curse in the book.”

Employee: “If only it was that, but there’s been more than a few threats to stop the remodel or boycott the store.”

Me: “I worked at [Other Grocery Store] when they were doing their remodeling, so…”

(The employee gives me the “YES! SOMEBODY WHO KNOWS!” look before taking me to the item despite my protests.)

Employee: “Here you go — [items]. But can I see that [most expensive item in my cart] first?”

Me: “Umm, sure?”

(The employee placed a clearance sticker on the top of the item reading “25% off, valued customer” before handing it back and thanking me before leaving me completely shocked.)

(I was involved in an incident that left me anxious around strangers. I’m barely able to talk to them and I really don’t want to be touched by them. I have been getting help, but I still have to have family or a friend go with me whenever I go out. I’m out shopping with one of my closest friends. I’m deciding on what chips I want when he says he is going to the next aisle to grab some water. I’m okay with this since it should only be less than a minute before he gets back. As soon as he goes around the corner, a middle-aged woman comes up to me.)

Lady: “Excuse me. Can you tell me where the [item] is?”

(I’m feeling anxious already, but she was polite so I manage to answer her.)

Me: “Sorry. I don’t know where that is.”

(Her politeness disappears immediately.)

Lady: *raising her voice* “What do you mean, you don’t know? What kind of employees do they hire here that don’t know where anything is?!”

(The employees wear long-sleeve, white dress shirts with a tie, black slacks, and either a vest or apron. I’m wearing a white hoodie and black jeans.)

Me: *starting to shake and tear up* “I don’t work here. I—“

Lady: *cutting me off* “BULLS***! I saw you help that young man just now.”

(I’m now beginning to panic when I see my friend come around the corner and begin to walk toward him.)

Lady: *grabs me by the arm* “DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME, YOU LAZY B—“

(That’s the last thing I hear. I’m not 100% sure what happens but my friend tells me that as soon as the lady turns me, I punch her in the nose. Then I kind of black out for a little while. My friend tells me this is what happens after I punch her.)

Lady: *now holding her bloody nose* “CALL THE COPS! THIS F****** EMPLOYEE JUST ASSAULTED ME!”

Friend: *checking on me* “She’s not an employee; she’s a customer. And you grabbed her first.”

Lady: “DON’T YOU LIE FOR HER!”

(A manager comes over with the security guard and an employee who is another friend of mine.)

Manager: “What’s going on?”

Lady: “THIS B**** PUNCHED ME FOR NO REASON!”

Friend: “You grabbed her first.”

(The cops are called, and I begin to calm down. I see the employee holding my hand trying to calm me down.)

Me: *disoriented* “What’s going on?”

Employee: *calmly and quietly* “It’s okay. Can you tell me what you remember right now?”

Me: *starting to hyperventilate when I see the lady* “That woman grabbed me.”

Employee: *rubbing my hand* “It’s okay. The cops will be here and it will all be sorted out.”

(I just want to go home now. I pull my knees up to my chest and I start crying. My friend sits next to me and tries to calm me down. The lady still has to get her jabs in.)

Lady: “You know you f***** up, don’t you?”

Manager: “Miss, could you please leave her alone?”

Lady: “NO! THIS F****** B**** ASSAULTED ME AND SHE KNOWS SHE’S GOING TO JAIL! THAT’S WHY SHE IS CRYING!”

(My friend has had enough. I have never seen him so mad.)

Friend: “No! She is not. You’re the one who grabbed her, because you’re too stupid to listen when someone says they are not an employee.” *points to cameras and the end of the aisles* “And those will prove it.”

(The lady now has a worried look on her face and starts to walk back out of the aisle toward the exit, but the cops show up. The manager leads the cops, my friend, and the lady to his office to review the tapes while the employee stays with me.)

Me: *crying* “I want to go home.”

Employee: “As soon as they let [Friend] leave, we can go. How about when this is done I go get some [my favorite ice cream] and stop by [my favorite pizza place] and we watch some Disney movies?”

Me: “Don’t you still need to work?”

Employee: “No, I just got off. I can leave whenever we’re done here.”

(I agreed, and [Friend] came out and asked if I was ready to go. It took me a few more minutes to get up and go. On our way home, my friend told me that after they reviewed the tape and he explained how I don’t like to be touched, the cops were very understanding. The lady wasn’t, and she flipped out, slapping my friend and kicking the manager. The lady was arrested and that’s the last I heard about her. My employee friend came over later with the ice cream and pizza and we watched Disney movies for the rest of the night.)

(I’m a cashier. It’s the dead of winter so my skin is pretty pale.)

Customer: “You know, your make-up would look more natural if you didn’t use a foundation that was so light.”

Me: “I’m not wearing any make-up.”

Customer: “You’re lying. You’re just one of those goth girls or vampire fans.”

Me: *rolling up my sleeve so she can see that the rest of me is just as white* “Nope, I’m just super pale.”

Customer: “Oh, God, you’re not lying. That’s gross!”

(I didn’t really know how else to respond and honestly was kind of hurt so the rest of the transaction went by in mostly awkward silence. Also, I’m not an albino or anything so I don’t know why the customer thought this wasn’t my natural skin color.)

(I’m bagging for customer #1, who has just finished her transaction. The checker is about to start on customer #2’s order when she notices a small item that’s not part of his order.)

Checker: Is this yours?

Customer 2: No, it must be hers.

Customer 1: Oh, those were mine, were they not scanned?

Checker: I can ring them through right now before we start on his order.

Customer 1: No, it’s okay. I don’t really need them.

Checker: Are you sure?

Customer 1: I’m sure, I don’t need them.

(The checker sets the item aside and starts on ringing up customer #2’s order. I’m chatting with customer #1 as I finish bagging her order so we don’t realize what’s going on until…)

Customer 2: (trying to hand the item to customer 1) Here, a gift.

Customer 1: What? Really?

Customer 2: Yeah, here you go.

Customer 1: Thank you so much!

(Sweetest thing I had seen all day!)

(I work the service desk at a well-known retail chain, and often get phone calls starting with, “So I was in your store earlier and I never got this item I bought…” Today I got one of those calls.)
*Phone rings*
Me: “Thank you for calling (store name and town), how may I help you?”
Customer: “Yeah, hi, I was in your store earlier and I bought a discounted pie that I never got.”
Me: “Alright, no problem. Do you remember which register you were at?” (I am prepared to help him locate the register number on the receipt when he starts swearing a blue streak at me.)
Customer: “That ****ing cashier stole my ****ing pie! It was a discounted pie, why the **** would they want it? I ****ing demand my pie and a refund!”
Me: “Sir, if you can just calm down, I can get it from the register and hold it at the service desk-“
Customer: “No, they ****ing stole my ****ing pie! (Insert long string of profanities here. I attempt once more to offer a solution but he cuts me off and continues swearing at me about how I work with a bunch of thieves.)
Me: “Alright sir let me just connect you to my supervisor. Hold on one minute.” *on the walkie* “CSM, can you get the phone call on line one?”
CSM: *picks up the phone, listens for a minute, then hangs up.*
Me: “What was that about?”
CSM: “He wouldn’t stop swearing at me so I hung up on him.” *smiles at me and then walks off to do other things.*

(Update: the pie was brought up to the desk later that afternoon. It cost a whopping $3 and was in terrible condition, and he never came back for it either. All this fuss over a busted up pie that he didn’t even want to return for.)