(I was ringing this customer’s order up and the entire order consisted of chicken, pork chops, t-bones, and rib eyes.)

Me: “Your total is going to be [over $200].”

Customer: “Now, before I pay you, I have to say something…”

Me: “Okay?”

Customer: “I know this has no reflection on you and you more than likely can’t do anything about it, but [Store] has no right to sell live animals.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I start chuckling a little. We only sell live goldfish as feeder fish for people’s piranhas and Oscars.)

Customer: “Well, what on earth can be so funny about me saying that?”

Me: “Weeelllll, you really had no problem buying the dead animals we sell.”

Customer: “As a charter member of PETA, I resent everything you just said to me. Not only does this store sell live animals, but it sells dead ones, too?”

Me: “Yes. We sell pork, chicken, beef, bison, and several different types of fish.”

Customer: “And you see no problem with this?!”

Me: “Well, you see, as a card-carrying member of the NRA, the only problem I can see is that they don’t also offer to cook it for me, too.”

(The customer stormed off without ever paying for their stuff. My manager wound up writing me up for being less than courteous.)

This story is part of the Hypocritical Customers roundup!

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(A couple walks up to my line and the guy puts his stuff on the belt first. Then, the girl puts up a divider and her stuff.)

Guy: “Sweetie, let me pay for your stuff.”

Girl: “FINE!” *storms off*

Me: *thinking to myself* “What the f*** is going on?”

(I looked at what she was purchasing and realized that the only thing was a home pregnancy test.)

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(I was ringing up an old lady when another old lady in my line recognizes the first lady.)

Old Lady #1: “Oh, hey! I didn’t see you there!”

Old Lady #2: “That’s okay… I didn’t recognize you with clothes on!”

Me: “What?!”

This story is part of the Crazy Mental Imagery roundup!

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(A very old lady, clearly hard of hearing and sight walks over to me.)

Customer: “Young man! You don’t have any Canola Harvest butter on the shelf!”

(I had stocked Canola Harvest margarine not twenty minutes earlier.)

Me: “Are you sure? I was certain we had–”

Customer: “You don’t have it. I already looked at your shelf.”

Me: “They changed the label on the tub last week. You probably don’t recognize–”

Customer: “I KNOW where it goes, young man. You don’t have it on the shelf!”

Me: “Let’s go check one more time.”

Customer: “You’re a buffoon, completely incapable! I need an adult… You should get me your manager!”

(We arrive. I pull a tub of Canola Harvest off the shelf and hold it to her.)

Me: “Here you go, ma’am. Canola Harvest.”

Customer: “That’s NOT Canola Harvest! It comes in a white container! Get me your manager!”

Me: *reading the tub* “Canola… Harvest. It’s a new label, is all.”

Customer: “Oh, I see. You must’ve changed the label on me again. *laughs* You should’ve told me it was a different color, young man!”

Me: *gun-finger-to-head*

(I am one of the quickest and most efficient cashiers at my store, and often receive positive comments about this from the customers.)

Wife: “My, you’re just whizzing along! I can’t believe how fast you are!”

Husband: “Didn’t you know? That’s the store’s new policy. They only hire fast women.”

Me: *chuckles good-naturedly*

Wife: “Don’t mind my husband. We only let him out on weekends.”

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