(I’m in my late 20s, but because of my size, I am often mistaken for a teenager. A few months prior to this incident, my husband and I decided to start trying to conceive. I’m very excited and immediately go out and buy a pregnancy test. A few weeks later, the test is negative, and I go to the same store to buy a pack of tests. I am checked out by the same cashier, an older woman. When I approach with the tests, she gives me a disgusted look. The following happens:)

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Cashier: “I’m fine… Honey, would you like me to show you where we keep the condoms? They’re not hard to find; they’re in the same aisle as the tests.”

Me: *a little taken aback* “No, thank you.”

(The cashier doesn’t ring out the test. She just looks at me.)

Cashier: “Sweetie, the condoms aren’t too expensive. We have some great options, and it would be a lot better than these constant scares.”

Me: “Oh, it’s not a scare—”

Cashier: *cuts me off* “I saw you a few weeks ago, buying a test. I remember because I said a prayer for you, that you wouldn’t be pregnant.”

Me: *getting angry now* “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to pray for! I want to be pregnant”

Cashier: *looks horrified* “Honey, you don’t want to be pregnant; trust me. You want to finish school, get a job, and find a guy who wants you for more than sex. Make the guy marry you first!”

Me: “Pretty sure this is none of your business, but my husband and I both have well-paying jobs, and a baby would be a blessing. Please ring me out.”

Cashier: “I can’t believe your parents let you get married so young!”

Me: “I’m almost 30. And again, this is none of your business.”

(She finally finished ringing me out, and I had a word with the manager about the incident. He promised to speak to her about it. It’s been two weeks, and when I go back she avoids me like the plague.)

Related:
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 17
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 16
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 15

(I’m a vegetarian and one of my favourite veggie foods is meatless “chicken breasts” which, for some reason, are sold in the meat department with the boxes of frozen burgers and whatnot. I realize that it’s been a while since I picked some up so I decide to grab them, but I can’t find them in the usual spot. I go to customer service to ask about it.)

Me: “Hi, I was looking for the boxes of meatless chicken breasts that you guys usually have in the meat department, but I couldn’t find them in the usual spot. Do you know if they’re just sold out, or if they’ve been moved, or something?”

Employee #1: “Meatless chicken breasts?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re [Store] brand, in a blue box. They’re usually in the meat department, with the frozen burgers and stuff.”

Employee #1: “I have no idea. I’ll call the meat department.”

(She pages the meat department three times over the course of a few minutes, with no answer.)

Employee #1: “I’ll be right back.” *leaves*

(At this point it’s been almost ten minutes and my boyfriend, who’s been waiting outside for me, comes over to see what’s taking so long.)

Boyfriend: “What’s going on? Do they have them?”

Me: “I have no idea. She paged them like three times, they didn’t answer, and then she just left. I assume she’s gone to the back to find someone from the meat department, but she didn’t actually tell me anything.”

(My boyfriend goes back outside, and I’m debating giving up and just leaving at about the 13-minute mark when she finally comes back.)

Employee #1: “We don’t have them.”

Me: “What does that mean?”

Employee #1: “We don’t have them.”

Me: “Well, you always used to, so… are they in a different department now? Are they sold out? Will you be getting more in? Or have they been discontinued?”

Employee #1: “I don’t know. They just said we don’t have them.”

Me: “Great.”

Employee #1: “Do you want me to go back and ask them again?”

(Keep in mind, it took her ten minutes to go ask them the first time, and I’ve been waiting for nearly 15, all told.)

Me: *sighs* “No, it’s fine. I don’t have the time. My boyfriend’s waiting for me.”

Employee #1: “Okay, sorry.”

(I start walking away.)

Employee #1: “WAIT!” *I turn back around* “Here he is; this is the guy you need to talk to.”

Employee #2: “What’s up?”

Employee #1: “She’s looking for those fake chicken breasts, the [Store] brand ones.”

Employee #2: “Oh, yeah, we don’t have those.”

Me: *internal facepalm*

(My store has a double money-back guarantee on all store brand products, which includes bakery items. Many customers take advantage of this generous refund policy, and in particular we have a customer who will buy our most expensive on-shelf bakery item — 48 cookies for $20 — and then return it minutes later saying the cookies are undercooked. Cashiers are not allowed by policy to call out people on bad returns like this, but my supervisor has finally had enough and tells me to call him over if she tries her scam again. Two days later she does, of course, so I call him over and take a step back from the register to let him handle it. I see my supervisor shove something in his pocket on his way over.)

Supervisor: “I understand you want to return these cookies? Again?”

Customer: “What? What do you mean, ‘again’?”

Supervisor: “This is the fourth time this week you’ve bought our cookies and returned them not even ten minutes later.”

Customer: “That’s absurd! I haven’t been in this store in almost two weeks!”

(My supervisor reaches into his pocket, and I see what he had hidden there: a photocopy of all of her purchase receipts that week — we keep receipts after a refund — including the refund receipts, and wordlessly holds it out for her to see. She reads the paper, growing more furious with each word.)

Customer: “Well, so what if I’ve returned these cookies before this week?! It’s not my fault you have bad cookies!”

Supervisor: “You’re more than welcome to buy a [Name Brand] package if our own brand isn’t satisfactory.”

Customer: “NO! I want these!”

Supervisor: “Then take them. If you want them, then you don’t need a refund right?”

Customer: “No, I do! I want these cookies, but they’re always undercooked and soft!”

(My supervisor flips open the box, grabs a cookie, and holds it at eye level. Right in front of the customer, he breaks the cookie in half with an audible snap.)

Supervisor: “Hmm, weird. They seem perfectly cooked to me. Maybe even overcooked.”

Customer: *shrieking* “Get me the manager right f****** now!”

Supervisor: *gleefully* “No, I don’t think I will. You’ve stolen over $100 from us this week alone, and now you’ve sworn at me. You need to leave.”

Customer: “YOU B******!”

Supervisor: “Get out of my store or I’ll carry you out.”

(My supervisor is not a small man, and the customer can clearly see that. She hesitates a moment longer, then lunges over the counter and SPITS on the cookies before sprinting out of the store. My supervisor tosses the cookies in the trash and turns to me, grinning.)

Supervisor: “I guess that’s how the cookie crum–“

Me: “Don’t you dare. I’m just glad she left. So, you think she’ll try it at [Sister Location]?”

Supervisor: “Hopefully she’s not that stupid, but I’ll call them.”

(She was that stupid, of course, and when I went to our sister location to do my own shopping a week later, I was informed that she had been banned from not only us and them, but from every store in our district; that’s 24 stores that she can no longer steal from!)

(I am walking up to the lottery counter to relieve my supervisor, who’s currently attempting to cover both supervising and the counter. She has to keep leaving the counter, despite a line of customers, to give the cashiers overrides. She’s currently just slipping back behind the counter to serve the next customer after having to run off.)

Supervisor: “Good! Do you have anywhere else you need to be? Can you cover this?”

Me: “Yeah, just let me close [Coworker]’s lane, so she can take her break, and then I can take over.”

Supervisor: *turns to next customer* “What can I do for you, ma’am—”

(We both look over to see the customer reaching over the lottery counter, trying to pull out a tray of tickets and help herself.)

Customer: “Finally, some service. God.”

(I am 5’2”, so when customers ask me to reach something for them, I either have to be creative about getting the item down, or I have to wander around and find someone taller to reach. [Coworker #1] is about 5’10”, and [Coworker #2] is over six feet tall. Both are women. I’m chatting with [Coworker #1] when [Coworker #2] comes over to us.)

Coworker #2: “[My Name], do you need me to reach anything for you today?”

Me: “No, not today.”

Coworker #1: “What?”

Me: “Yesterday morning, a customer wanted me to reach dog food that was all the way in the back of the top shelf, behind another bag. I called for help on the radio, but no one responded. So, I went into their meeting to ask for help.”

Coworker #2: “She was like, ‘Can I borrow the tallest person?’ No names, but I knew she was talking about me.”

(Just then, a customer walks up to us.)

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Coworker #1: “Yes?”

Customer: “Could one of you please reach something for me?”

([Coworker #1] and I laughed as [Coworker #2] went to help her.)