(It’s late at night, and I’m working the checkout aisle when a woman comes up with her young daughter and her cart load of groceries. Everything is going fine at first.)

Daughter: “Mommy, look!”

(The daughter has grabbed the now empty cart, pulled it to the end of the aisle and is now pushing it towards her mother at fairly high speed.)

Mother: “No, dear. Please don’t.”

(She catches the cart just before the little girl runs her over.)

Daughter: “Hey, mommy, look!”

(This time the little girl really gets a running start. The cart is moving dangerously fast. As the cart passes me, I grab the handle, bringing it to a stop. I lean over the counter and look the little girl straight in the eyes.)

Me: “Trust me. You really don’t want to do that.”

Daughter: “Why?”

Me: “Because you could hurt your mother. And if you hurt her you will be in trouble.”

Daughter: “How much trouble?”

Me: “Not able to go home trouble. Probably ‘time out’ trouble.”

Daughter: “Oh. That doesn’t sound that bad.”

Me: “Or, your mother could be like mine and send you to bed with no supper.”

Daughter: “Oh.”

Me: “Now, why don’t you go help your mother bag the groceries?”

Daughter: “Okay!”

(The mother looks at me.)

Mother: “Thank you.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. That was one of the less stressful things I’ve dealt with tonight.”

Mother: “Really?”

Me: “Yeah. All I had to do was grab the cart and tell her the truth.”

(The woman pauses for a moment and looks at me.)

Mother: “Maybe I should try being more like your mother. She certainly got something right with you!”

(That comment pretty much made my night, and I managed to finish out my shift with a smile.)

(I stop at the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning to get the last few things for dinner.)

Clerk: “Is that it?”

Me: “Yes, thank you.”

Clerk: “Great. Happy Easter!”

Me: “Had enough of saying ‘Happy Thanksgiving,’ huh?”

(It is shortly before Thanksgiving, and the grocery store I am shopping in has shopping bags filled with holiday items for needy families. The sealed bags are on tables by the checkout. To purchase one, as I had before, you just put it on the belt with your groceries, then pay, and drop it into a donation bin by the exit. I pick up one of these bags and put it on the belt with my groceries.)

Cashier: *gesturing to the charity bag* “That isn’t for you.”

Me: “I’m sorry…  What?”

Cashier: “Those are for needy families. You can’t have it.”

Me: “I’m not buying it for me. I’m going to put it in the bin by the door.”

Cashier: “You can’t buy those! They aren’t for you! You are taking food from needy families!”

Me: “I bought one the other day so it can be given to a needy family.”

Cashier: “They shouldn’t have let you. You have to put it back.”

(I am wondering if I should bother to have a manager called over when the cashier from the next checkout says to my cashier:)

Other Cashier: “What are you doing, [Cashier]? Those bags are for any customer to buy and donate. The store ships them to a charity that gives them to the families.”

Cashier: “Oh. I thought only the poor could buy them.”

(The cashier still seemed reluctant, but she did ring out my order and allow me to make my donation. I hope I was the first customer who had tried to buy one of those bags in her lane.)

(At my store, we’re required to check a customer’s ID with alcohol purchases, no matter how old the customer looks. If a manager catches us not checking, we can be fired. A customer comes through my checkout with a bottle of wine.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am. May I see your ID with the wine?”

Customer: “What? No. I left it in the car.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I actually have to see it to scan the wine. I won’t be able to sell it without an ID.”

Customer: “Are you serious? I’m clearly old enough.”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but it’s policy. I could be in trouble if I don’t, or even fired.”

Customer: “That’s not my problem. Ring it up or call your manager.”

(I call the manager. She comes over, and I explain.)

Customer: “Tell her to just sell me my wine instead of wasting my time.”

Manager: “Actually, ma’am, she’s correct. We have to see an ID with all alcohol purchases. You said you have it in your car?”

Customer: “I’m not walking all the way out to my car just because of your stupid rule!”

Manager: “I won’t be able to allow this alcohol sale, then.”

Customer: “Fine! Leave it off, then! I’ll just get the rest of my stuff!”

(She pays and leaves, and in case she changes her mind, I hold the wine at my register for about 20 minutes. Finally I decide to send it to customer service, where merchandise is gathered to be put back on the shelves. About 10 minutes after that, the customer returns.)

Customer: “You were the one who took my wine before, right? I want to buy it now.”

Me: “I don’t have it here anymore, but I’ll have the manager bring it right back for you.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Me: “You said you had your ID in your car, so I thought if you were going to come back for it, it would only take a few minutes. I waited a while before putting it back.”

(The customer huffs and taps her foot until the manager gets back, and since a line is forming behind her, the manager offers to take her to the next register over.)

Manager: “And I’ll need to see your ID with this.”

Customer: “I can’t believe you have such a stupid policy! I had to drive all the way home to get this and all the way back here for one bottle of wine!”

(The kicker? The ID she had to drive home for was her driver’s license.)

(I work in a grocery store in the back in the deli. We have telephones in each department to call other departments and customers and for them to call us. In the summer the deli stays open longer for the tourists than the rest of year. It is now fall so we are closing earlier. We are in the middle of cleaning the department. The phone rings and my coworker answers:)

Coworker: “Hello, deli department.”

Coworker: *pause before he answers* “We closed at eight.”

Coworker: *another pause, then:* “No, we currently close at eight.”

(He hangs up and then several minutes later it rings again. He picks up again.)

Coworker: “Hello, deli department.” *pause* “No, we do close at eight. We are not open to ten. We are open to eight.”

(He hangs up and turns to me:)

Coworker: “It was the same person and I am going to lose it if they call again!”

(The phone rings a third time and this time I pick it up.)

Me: “Hello, deli department. [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “The other guy told me you close at eight. I know you close at ten.”

Me: “We used to close at ten. We are currently closing at eight. We were open later for summer but we are now closing at eight.”

Customer: “You should be open until ten!” *hangs up*

(The worst part was the customer was an employee from the front of the store!)