No Point Crying Over Expired Milk

| LA, USA | Right | May 20, 2017

(I work at a grocery store in the dairy/frozen foods department. On this particular day I am pulling & rotating dates. As I am discarding items a customer walks into the warehouse.)

Customer: “Can you sell me this expired milk after you mark it down?”

Me: “Ma’am, I cannot sell it as it is against state law to sell expired milk.”

Customer: “I don’t care! Take a dollar off and sell it to me!”

Me: “Ma’am, once again, I cannot sell expired milk to you. It is against state law. I’d be happy to get you a fresh quart from the cooler.”

Customer: “I want this d*** milk right now or I’ll call the state board of health on you!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you call them they will tell you the exact same thing I’m telling you.”

Customer: “Listen here, you little b******. I’m right; you’re wrong. You work in a damned grocery store. What the crap could you know about health?! In fact, I’m going to call them today! I hope you burn in hell for what you’re doing!”

(She proceeded to spill the milk all over the floor and left the warehouse, telling anyone who’d listen about our “rude employees.”)

Be Thankful It’s Just For Today

| Colorado Springs, CO, USA | Right | May 19, 2017

(It is Thanksgiving Day and I am working with one other cashier. It is a very slow day. This exact conversation happens basically every time the phone rings.)

Me: *answers the phone* “Happy Thanksgiving! Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, is this [Store]?”

Me: “Yes, sir… It is.”

Customer: “Are you open today?”

Me: “Yes, sir, we are. Until four pm.”

Customer: “Great! Until when?”

Me: “Four pm, sir.”

Customer: “Awesome, thanks. What was your name?”

Me: *internal sigh*

A Punnet Of Groceries

| ON, Canada | Related | May 19, 2017

(I’m stocking in the produce section when a teenage girl comes in with her mom.)

Girl: *picks up a carton of strawberries* “I love you berry much.”

Mom: “Must you do this every time we go shopping?”

Girl: *runs to grab an orange* “Orange you glad you brought me to the store?”

Mom: “As of right now, not really.”

Girl: *grabbing grapes* “My puns are grape!”

Mom: “Why?”

Girl: *picks up a sweet potato* “I yam who I yam.” *pause* “Mom, turn around I’m holding a yam.”

(They walked away and I didn’t see them again that night; however, my coworker told me that he overheard a girl in the frozen aisle trying to convince her mom they needed Hot Pockets by telling her that “You always need Hot Pockets and that is just a fact of life.” I’m positive that it was the same girl. If you’re reading this, Girl, you are awesome and thank you for making my day!)

Should Have Just Carted It Away

| Cincinnati, OH, USA | Working | May 19, 2017

(I’m at the grocery checkout with only one reusable bag.)

Me: “If all the groceries don’t fit, just put them in the cart. I don’t want any plastic bags.”

Clerk: “Okay.”

Me: “The milk won’t fit; just put it in the cart. I don’t want any plastic.”

Clerk: “Do you want the milk in a bag?”

Me: “No, just in the cart. I don’t want any plastic.”

Clerk: “Okay.” *puts milk in plastic bag*

Me: “No, I don’t want any plastic bags. Just put the milk in the cart.”

Clerk: “Oh, that’s right. Sorry.” *takes milk out of bag, puts it in the cart, throws the bag away*

Me: “Sigh.”

Has Beef With Math

| Tallahassee, FL, USA | Working | May 18, 2017

(I’m at a deli at the grocery store, trying to get some cuts. I’ve already gotten a half pound of turkey from the employee.)

Employee: “Do you need anything else?”

Me: “Yes, a third of a pound of roast beef.”

(The employee gets the beef out, and then looks back up at me.)

Employee: “Did you say half pound?”

Me: “A third of a pound for this one.”

(The employee starts up the slicer, and I’m waiting around. It seems like it’s taking longer than expected, and when he puts up the beef on the scale, it reads almost a half pound.)

Me: “Oh, I wanted a third of a pound.”

(Rather than stopping and taking some of the beef off, he starts slicing again.)

Me: “Sir, I said a third of a pound.”

Employee: *looking up* “Yeah, that means .75 of a pound.”

Me: “Um, no. That’s three quarters of a pound. A third of a pound is .33.”

(The employee gives me a blank look.)

Employee: “Most people mean .75. I got chewed out for that earlier.”

Me: “Well, whoever chewed you out shouldn’t have. That’s not a third of a pound, that’s three quarters. A third is definitely .33.”

Employee: “Well, most people mean .75 when they say a third of a pound.”

(I did get him to give me a correct third of a pound, but he repeated his insistence that “most people” meant .75 when they said “a third of a pound” in a tone that suggested the confusion was my fault. As this is a grocery store I frequent and I have never had a problem getting a third of a pound before, I suspect that there wasn’t any chewing out, but that he was trying to cover up his error.)

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