A customer places a carton of pre-mixed sangria.

Customer: “I want to return this; it didn’t taste so good.”

Me: “I’m afraid we can’t accept returns on alcohol. It’s state law.”

Customer: “Alcohol?!”

Me: “Yes. This is sangria.”

Customer: “That’s considered alcohol?”

Me: “Yes, it has alcohol in it.”

Customer: “Oh… I thought it was like a fancy juice! It’s in a carton and everything!”

Me: “Some wine does come in cartons, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well… that explains why the kids fell asleep early at movie night…”

I work at a membership-based grocery store. An adult guy is signing up and filling out the form. His parents are waiting for him a few steps away. He shouts back to them, at full volume, with total seriousness.

Customer: “Maaa! Which one’s my first name and which one’s my family name?!”

She told him, and he nodded and wrote it down. 

As far as I could see, this guy had a driver’s license, credit card, and no obvious cognitive disabilities. The rest of the form made him ask his mom what his address was, as well as:

Customer: “Maaa! I know my birthday, but what year was I born?!”

The mom kept answering like these were the most normal questions in the world for an adult man to be asking.

Our grocery store is having a massive sale, so we’re crazy busy. A woman storms past the line at the customer service desk and shouts at me:

Customer: “Why is there nowhere to park?!”

I look around at the crazy number of people in the store, in the line, and then back at her.

Me: “We are… um… very busy today.”

Customer: “And why is that my problem?!”

Me: “We appreciate everyone’s patience today.”

Customer In Line: “F*** that! I got no patience for a f****** moron who has no eyes and common sense! Look around at the f***-ton of people and put two and f****** two together! Now get out of the way! I got places to be!”

The onslaught of loud profanity shook the customer out of her angry blinkers, and she seemed to finally realize just how many people were in the store today. She still looked furious, but at least she was done with me and stormed off back to the parking lot.

I work at a large grocery store with an outdoor section. I’m walking through the store to go help someone in the garden shop.

Customer: “You! Hey! Yeah, you! How much is this trampoline?”

As I can’t see a price sticker, I say:

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I work in receiving, so I am not normally out on the floor. I can find out for you, though.”

Customer: “Well, you received it! How much is it?!”

Me: “I… will go find out for you.”

Customer: “Because the only thing I’m receiving here is slow service.”

I found out the price of the trampoline from the back. The sale price tag was missing because it was about to go on sale in a matter of hours, and they were getting the new price ready. I went back to the customer and told him the full price. He bought it without knowing he could have saved 25% a few hours later. 

Too bad I didn’t RECEIVE that information properly…

We have a regular who has never once bought anything from our cheese section, and I think about him more than I should

He comes in every Thursday evening, around the same time, give or take twenty minutes. I’ve been at this grocery store long enough that I know the Thursday regulars pretty well. Most of them have a pattern. Cart, produce, dairy, checkout. Standard stuff.

This guy goes straight to the cheese wall. Every single time. He’ll stand there for anywhere between ten and twenty-five minutes just reading labels. Picking things up, turning them over, setting them back down very carefully, exactly where they were. He never puts anything in a basket. He doesn’t even usually carry a basket. He just reads.

For the first few months, I assumed he was about to buy something and was just being very thorough. Some people are like that with cheese. It’s a whole thing. I respected it.

Then I started noticing he always left the section empty-handed and went straight to checkout with whatever small things he’d picked up elsewhere. A yogurt. Some butter. Once just a single lemon. Never cheese.

About four months ago, he caught me restocking near the section and asked what I thought about one of the aged goudas we carry. I told him honestly it was one of my favorites, a little pricey but worth it for a special occasion. He nodded very seriously and asked two more questions about the aging process and the flavor profile. Really specific questions, the kind a person asks when they genuinely know what they’re talking about.

We talked for probably twenty minutes. It was one of the better conversations I’ve had at work.

He bought a small container of hummus and left.

He was back last Thursday. Stood at the cheese wall for fifteen minutes. Left with sparkling water.

I have stopped trying to understand it. I just hope he’s doing okay and that one day, maybe, he finds what he’s looking for.