Our supermarket is open 6 am to 10 pm.

Customer: “Why aren’t you open longer! I don’t have time to do my shopping!”

Me: “With all due respect, we’re open sixteen hours a day. If you can’t find time to do your shopping in that time, I don’t know what to tell you.”

During undergrad, I work at a deli in a major supermarket. Most of my coworkers are also in college, and we all get along and generally have a good time. We usually don’t have too much trouble, but for some reason, a couple of managers have decided that they don’t like one of my coworkers. They nitpick his work and give him a hard time for things the rest of us never get in trouble for.

One morning, they decide that his five-o’clock shadow warrants a beard net. This is an unusual request considering that, one, no one without a beard has ever been told to do this before; two, he has barely any stubble; and three, they are making a big deal about it and seem to be trying to make him feel bad about it.

Managers aside, I am the only female employee in the department at the time. So, I stroll up and ask what is going on. They point out his stubble.

Me: “I’m certain that I have eyebrow hairs longer than that.” *In mock concern* “Should I be wearing my hairnet over them?”

They sort of look at each other.

Manager #1: *Hesitantly* “No… you don’t need to do that.”

Me: “Why not? It’s likely that my eyebrow hairs would be in someone’s food if we’re worried about chin stubble.”

Manager #2: “No, no, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

Me: “What about the fine hairs on a woman’s face? What about those? Should I be shaving?”

They were catching on now. They told my coworker to put on a beard net and leave. He did… and so did I. Solidarity.

I don’t think I’ve seen so many people double-take and start laughing before. The customers and my indirect managers thought it was hilarious. When they would ask me about it, I would just say that I was protecting the food in the store from any potential hairs, real or imagined. By noon, when the original pair of managers returned, I was having a very good day. They begged me to take the beard net off, and I pointed out that there was nothing in the store policy saying that I couldn’t wear PPE, which included beard nets. I wore it until the end of my shift that day. They never bothered my coworker about his stubble after that.

A lady comes to the register with thirty jars of pickled onions.

Customer: “All of these are out of date!”

I’m confused because those just came in.

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “These are all out of date! I checked them all and look! They’re six months out of date. What kind of shop are you running?”

Me: “Could you pass me one, please?”

The customer huffs and slams one down on the counter.

Customer: “I think it’s despicable that the staff here aren’t doing their job. Just disgraceful!”

I read the dates on the jar and immediately realise what’s happened:

Me: “Oh, I see. If you look just here, the date you were looking at was the production date; the ‘best before’ date is just below it.”

Customer: “I know how to read a date!”

Me: “It’s very easy to misread the label on these, but I assure you they’re well within date.”

It’s not easy to misread; it very clearly says, “Production,” on the first line and, “Best Before,” on the second.

Customer: “How could you be so rude? I’m going to call corporate and have you fired!”

She left in a huff and my boss — the owner of the company — who had watched the whole thing burst out laughing.

I’m working in my grocery store when I see a man open a pack of cookies that someone had left on a table in the frozen foods section and eat several. As he walks away from the open pack I confront him:

Me: “Sir, you need to pay for those.”

Customer: “But they’re free samples!”

Me: “No, they’re not, sir.”

Customer: “But I couldn’t have known because that table is used for tasters!”

Me: “Sir, there are always signs hanging up saying what can be tasted; this table is completely blank. We never leave tasters in the packaging, we always open them and display them on a tray. Also, we have actual cookies out for tasting, in the cookie aisle, which you would have had to have passed to get here.”

Customer: “I had no way of knowing! It’s not my fault!”

Me: “Sir, you still opened a brand-new product and ate several of them, you will have to pay for it.”

It ends, or so I think, with me saying something along the line of “you eat, you buy it, end of discussion” and placing the item in his cart so he could have the rest of the cookies as well. But I have a feeling, so when I see him waiting in line at the checkout, I walk by him and see the cookies aren’t in his cart. I rush back to the frozen section and sure enough, between the shelves sits the still-open package of cookies.

I take it, go to the cashier in whose line he’s waiting, walking right past him, cookies in hand.

Me: *To Cashier.* “That guy over there opened this, ate several, and doesn’t want to pay. I already explained it to him and he tried to hide them when I wasn’t looking. Charge him for the cookies and don’t take no for an answer.”

I walk back into the store, looking him straight in the eyes, and gave him a customer service smile. He ended up paying for the cookies.

I work in a health food store. One day, I am at my register on a semi-busy day and a man comes through. He’s on his phone so he’s kind of ignoring me, a tad rude, but nothing terrible. He buys some cheese and some other things and goes on his merry way. I think he is one of the many faces I will never recognize again. Right? Story over?

Wrong.

A few minutes go by. I am now helping another person, and suddenly, I hear the feared throat-clearing sound next to me. I have a moment of panic as I turn to face him. He’s still on the phone. Before I have a single second to reply, he shoves the cheese in my face (breaking social distancing rules), pointing to it, screaming.

Customer: “There is mold! Here, here, and here!”

And then he throws it directly in my face and storms off before he has to deal with the repercussions of his actions, like a real adult.

The woman who is at my till looks at me for a moment, concerned.

Customer #2: “Are you okay?”

Me: “That’s just one of the perks of being a cashier.”