Customer: “I wanted my change in a fifty!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I only have twenties and tens.”

Customer: “Well, go print out a new one at the back.”

Me: “Print out… a what?”

Customer: “A fifty!”

Me: “We don’t have any fifties in the back.” 

Customer: “I know! You just said that! So, print me a new one!”

Me: “You mean print money?” 

Customer: “Duh!”

Me: “We can’t do that, ma’am. Only the U.S. Mint can print money.”

Customer: “Bulls***! How else do the stores have money to give out change?”

Me: “We order bills from corporate, who I assume gets them from the Mint.”

Customer: “I don’t believe you! You’re just being lazy! You expect me to believe that the money comes from outside and you just bring it in every day?”

Me: “That’s how most stores work, ma’am.”

Customer: “What about the ATMs?! They print money!”

Me: “Same thing, ma’am. Money is placed inside them using special money boxes.”

Customer: “I’m gonna go home and Google this but if you’re lying, I am coming back here to get me my fifty!”

Me: “Good luck, ma’am!”

I am making small talk with a regular at the grocery store. He’s always been a very friendly guy and easy to talk to.

Customer: “Do you like working here?”

Me: “It’s okay, I guess.”

Customer: *Handing me a card* “Give me a call if you want to change careers.”

I look at the card. He’s a manager at the local “Gentleman’s club”.

Me: “Not looking to be a stripper, thanks. No offense to those who are. Does this kind of recruitment usually work?”

Customer: “Oh, yeah! Young women working checkout are low-hanging fruit, especially when we tell them that any customer who steps out of line in our establishment gets permanently banned, not given coupons instead.”

I admit I laugh.

Me: “Ha! That does sound refreshing.” *Jokingly* “If my degree falls through at [Local University], then I’ll give you a call.”

Customer: “Oh, you’re studying at [Local University]? Maybe don’t call me, then. Half of the tenured professors are clients.”

I am walking through the store with my manager to do a task when we see a man ripping open a package of marshmallows on the far end of an aisle. My manager changes direction to confront him, but we both slow down and come to a stop based on what we see.

From one pocket, he takes a graham cracker, and from another pocket, a tiny blowtorch. He then proceeds to melt the marshmallow on the graham cracker, put the tiny blowtorch away, reveal yet another graham cracker from his pocket, turn it into a s’more, and start walking away.

Regaining our composure, my manager finally confronts him.

Manager: “Did you just make a s’more in the store?! You can’t do that!”

Customer: *Between munching* “Just did.”

And with that, he waltzes out the door like he just did the most normal thing in the world. My manager turns to me.

Manager: “That’s going to be fun to try and explain in the incident report!”

I see a woman with her crying son, maybe five or six years old, in one of our aisles. She is crouching down, moving items out of the way.

Me: “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Customer: “It’s my son! He’s lost Mouse! He’s so distraught!”

Me: “Ma’am, are you telling me there is a mouse loose in our store?! That’s a health risk, and we need to—”

Customer: “No! You don’t have a mouse loose in your store!”

Me: “Oh…”

Customer: “Mouse is a snake.”

It turned out that she thought that was “better” and also that her kid sucks at naming animals.

“Mouse” was eventually found, and the customer was advised that it was probably best that her son not be walking around with a snake in the hood of his hoodie when out grocery shopping.

Related:
My Family And Other Animals, Part 13
My Family And Other Animals, Part 12
My Family And Other Animals, Part 11
My Family And Other Animals, Part 10
My Family And Other Animals, Part 9

I was on maternity leave from work, and I went into my store with my husband to do my weekly shop. Obviously, I was not wearing my uniform.

A woman who was shopping with her mum walked PAST a colleague who was actually working (and wearing a uniform) and came up to me.

Customer: “Where are the [items]?”

Me: *Politely* “Sorry, ma’am, I’m not working today. But my colleague over there can help you.” *Points*

Customer: “But you work here! Just f****** tell me where it is!”

Then, my six-foot-tall husband came up behind the woman.

Husband: *Quietly* “Do you want to tell me why you’re swearing at my pregnant wife?”

People were starting to stare, so the woman marched back to her mum, all the while calling me names because I “wouldn’t do my job”.