Customer: “This brand of beef that you sell, it’s full of chemicals! They use a chemical made from human foetuses to make people become addicted to their products!”
Places items on the checkout counter.
Me: “Well, I guess it works then, since you’re buying their roast beef!”
I have just been hired the previous week, and I am on my first shift on the registers. Towards the end of my fairly slow shift, I am the only cashier on at the time – somehow! A sweet old lady walks up to me:
Customer: “Just letting you know I have to pay by check because I left my bank card at home.”
Me: “That’s perfectly fine, but I’ll need to call my supervisor over to show me how to use the check scanner, since I’ve never done it before!”
She agrees, and I ring her up uneventfully. My supervisor comes over and they get the check made out to the right company for the right amount, and she shows me how to scan it into the system.
A message pops up on the register informing me that I need to check her ID and input the Driver’s License number. I inform her of such, and she seems upset, but not angry.
Customer: “But I left it at home with my bank card. I remember I keep them in a small plastic box so they’re together.”
Supervisor: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s no way to bypass this on the computer. Do you remember your Driver’s License number, by chance?”
Customer: *Shakes head, seeming sad.*
I’m just sorta standing back with my best sympathetic smile. My manager seems to have things handled, even though there’s not much we can do. It’s at this point that the customer in line behind the old lady speaks up:
Next Customer: “If you wanna make the check out to me, I can pay with my bank card?”
Customer: *Cheering up.* “Would you? That’d be wonderful!”
Next Customer: “Yeah, I don’t want to make you go all the way home and have to come back just to buy some groceries!”
Customer: “Thank you so much!”
The customer steps to one side to let the next customer put her card in the pin pad. Meanwhile, she makes out the check to her. Once the payment goes through, I hand the customer her receipt, wish her a pleasant evening, and start scanning the next customer’s stuff.
My first customer finishes writing the check, thanks the next customer again, and leaves. My supervisor and I both thank the next customer.
Next Customer: “She seemed like a safe bet.”
I’m in the grocery store, reaching for a pack of cigarettes, when my six-year-old begs me out of nowhere, loud enough for everyone to hear:
Child: “Mommy, please stop doing drugs!”
Turned out his teacher told his class (correctly) that nicotine in cigarettes are drugs.
I did (eventually) quit smoking. But not that day!
I am carrying some stock in the back of our health food store. I am carrying some bottles of mixed red berry juice when I realize that this batch hasn’t been sealed properly, and lots of it proceed to fall all over me, covering me in a very thick red juice.
Right as this happens, I am called by my cashier to the front; I am a manager. I head toward the door leading to behind the register desk, and I hear a customer shouting:
Customer: “That’s right! Call your manager! I’m going to tell them how you treat your customers, and then we’ll see how you feel about my cou… pon…”
The customer’s words drift away as they see me emerge from the back, covered in red splatter.
Me: “What was that about how we treat our customers?”
Customer: “I… I just… My… coupon…”
My red hand takes the coupon.
Me: “This has expired. We cannot accept it.”
I hand it back, stained now by my red fingers and berry guts.
Customer: “I… I’m okay.”
The customer heads out the door. My cashier looks at me.
Cashier: “I don’t know what you have all over you, but we’re using that next time we get a problem customer!”
Related:
The Couponator 41: The Saga Of The Long-Suffering Wife
The Couponator 40: Armageddon
The Couponator 39: The Yarn Of Time
The Couponator 38: The Sandwich Of Frustration
The Couponator 37: The Year Of Reckoning
A customer is coming through my checkout lane, and before I can say a word they just blurt out:
Customer: “Are you a terrorist?”
Me: “Uh… no?”
Customer: “Why?”
Me: “Because… I don’t… want to be?”
The customer stares at me for a moment with narrow eyes before breaking out into a beaming smile.
Customer: “Good! Keep it that way!”
The customer then paid for their items and headed out like it was nothing.
