(I work at the checkout at a grocery store that, on Thursdays, offers a 5% discount to seniors. Naturally, we get a lot of seniors on Thursdays. Near the end of my shift, an elderly gentleman comes to my lane.)

Me: “Hello, do you have a [Store Card] today?”

Customer: ‘Yes, it’s [telephone number].’

Me: ‘Okay. Did you find everything okay today?”

Customer: “Yes, I did.”

Me: :Great. Are you having a good day so far?”

Customer: “Well, you know how people say T-G-I-F?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Customer: “Well I say, S-H-I-T. So Happy It’s Thursday.”

(I could only fake laugh and quickly get him out of there, making sure I give him his senior discount.)

(I work part time as a jack-of-all-trades in one of the UK’s chain supermarkets. Because it is busy, I am helping out on checkouts. An older lady approaches my till wanting to purchase a tub of vanilla ice cream. I scan the tub of ice cream.)

Me: “That will be £4, then, please!”

Customer: “That’s not right. It should be £1.67!”

(I void the item, and scan it again. It still says £4.)

Customer: “IT’S £1.67! DISCOUNT IT FOR ME IMMEDIATELY!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I can’t do that without supervisor permission. I’ll call one over now to check.”

Customer: “IT’S £1.67! ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF LYING?!”

(One of the supervisors arrives, having heard her raised voice. I explain the situation, and he disappears to the freezer aisle. He finds the ice cream and checks the price ticket. It says £4 and no offer. He comes back and explains this politely to the lady.)

Customer: “SO, YOU ARE CALLING ME A LIAR! I CAN READ; IT SAID £1.67!”

(The supervisor went and fetched the ticket and showed the lady. She screeched, shoved the ice cream across the checkout at me, and stormed out of the door screeching like a pterodactyl. The supervisor and I exchanged “WTF” faces, and carried on with our lives.)

(We sell more expensive products, so our customers are often given what they want simply to appease them, and they know it. Many of them are also highly wealthy. I am working a late shift. A woman and her daughter come through my register. She isn’t exactly friendly, but it starts off civil enough. Her daughter is at the end of the register counter, where some bags are located for anyone bagging — employee or customer. I have a limited supply of my own bags across the counter by my hips, quite a reach for a customer, but they still do it. This lady suddenly does that, and it freaks me out a little. Calmly, I suggest that the bags at the end will be easier for her to access, because they are. She can only grab two from my side, anyway. Big mistake.)

Me: “Ma’am, if you’d like, the bags at the end of the register would be easier to access, instead of leaning over the counter.”

Customer: “No one else has ever told me not to use those bags before! Why do you think you’re so special?”

Me: “Ma’am, I just said the bags there are…”

Customer: “I know there are bags there! How am I to reach them? I can’t get to them!”

(Sure, her daughter and cart are over there, but the carts have wheels for a reason. I don’t say that, of course. She turns to her daughter, who has stopped bagging.)

Customer: “Stop! Make her do it!”

(Meaning me. I will have to bag her order. Alone. Because of a suggestion. I finish in silence, and she says:)

Customer: “Since you think you’re so smart and have taught me a lesson, let me teach you something: you don’t know everything! Huh? You don’t! So don’t go around acting like you know things like that, because it’s not your place! Think!”

(She jerked the receipt from my hand, which left a paper cut. She later filed a complaint, from which my manager took her side. Funny enough, the woman after her called her an asshole, but I shrugged it off to avoid making it worse. That same lady has come through my line twice since then, and both times she’s said absolutely nothing to me despite my attempts to be nice. Rather childish, in my opinion. Also, funnily enough, after she came through the second time, another woman right after her said, “What a b****! And you’re such a nice young lady!”)

(I’m hard of hearing, and always have been. I usually have hearing aids, but since I can sign and read lips, I don’t always need them. An older Latino woman comes through my line.)

Customer: *something in a heavy accent and softly, while looking away from me*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m hard of hearing and I didn’t catch what you said.”

Customer: *what I heard* “I… coffee… roll… please.” *keeps looking away while speaking quietly*

Me: “I’m really sorry, ma’am, but I can’t hear you.”

(I point to my ears to emphasis my hearing loss.)

Customer: “Oh, are you deaf?”

Me: *pause* “Yes.”

(She up and goes to a neighboring register to someone who speaks fluent Spanish. My friend later tells me:)

Friend: “You know that Spanish lady?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Friend: “She asked me if you were [disabled slur], and then mentioned how you couldn’t hear her. She said she was offended by it.”

Me: “But I told her I can’t hear!”

(Really. It’s not like deafness is based on race or language.)

(I’m a 21-year-old transgirl living in Cape Town, and I work for a chain store as a cashier. In every aspect, I look like a typical brunette white girl, except for my voice, which is somewhat deeper and far more raspy. I can’t change it much, no matter how much I’ve tried. Because of often negative opinions on LGBT people in South Africa, I keep it to myself. I know English, Swedish, and Afrikaans.)

Me: “Hoe gaan dit met jou?”

Customer: “I don’t speak that!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am!”

Customer: “Are… are you futa?”

(“Futa” is short for “futanari,” a type of Japanese chick-with-a-d*** p*rn.)

Me: “No, I’m not.”

Customer: “Why your voice so deep, then?”

Me: “Laryngitis as a girl, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, I think you are futa. You are boy!”

(My female Xhosa coworker comes over.)

Coworker: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes! Why this boy look like a girl?”

Coworker: “Because she is a girl.”

Customer: “Humph!”

Me: “Have a great day!”

Customer: “Bye, [trans slur]. And f*** you, you [racial slur]! I’m a Christian! F*** you! God hates you!” *storms off*

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