(I’m ringing up a couple when the husband goes back into the aisles to grab something else. Meanwhile, a lady walks up behind them to get rung up. I ask the wife who stayed at the register if I can postpone her transaction to ring up the lady behind her, and she says sure. I ring the lady waiting behind them, and then the husband comes back. I total the order and process the store credit, which requires me to see a license. I scan the license, and the store credit is not registered under the husband’s name. The store credit gets temporarily inactivated due to a system glitch.)

Me: “Did you retrieve this credit with your own license?”

Husband: “I don’t know. Probably.”

Me: “Your name did not match—“

Husband: “I just saw my name pop up.”

Me: “That was for the other store cred—“

Husband: “Get me a manager.”

(The manager comes and messes around with the register.)

Wife: “This is all because she couldn’t wait two minutes for my husband to come back.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, but there are other people in this store.”

Wife: “She was waiting patiently.”

Me: “Ma’am, I apologize, but I did ask you if I could take the next person, and you said yes.”

Wife: “What did you expect me to say, no?”

Me: “That is why I asked.”

(I’m on the shop floor, helping customers find items they’re looking for.)

Customer: “I’m looking for negro-coloured tile grout.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: *takes out her phone to show me a photo of the label* “See?”

Me: “Um…” *deciding against mentioning the meaning in English* “That’s Spanish for black.”

Customer: “Really?”

Me: “Yes, I can assure you that it means black.”

(I find what she’s looking for and send her on her way, before slipping to the manager’s desk in the back to laugh.)

Assistant Manager: “What’s so funny?”

(I tell her what happened, bearing in mind that the manager is a woman of African descent.)

Assistant Manager: “She had no idea, did she?”

Me: “Not a clue. She said it with a completely straight face.”

(I need some wood cut for a project and go to the local hardware store. The employee is exceptionally nice to me and manages to alter some of the measurements to fit their wood planks better. While discussing the project, another female customer arrives, well-dressed and obviously annoyed by the fact he is taking some time to help me.)

Customer: “Excuse me! Is there someone willing to help me?!”

(She exclaims in a super annoyed voice.)

Employee: “Certainly. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Will you send someone over? I’m waiting and I have other stuff to do!”

Employee: “Maybe I can help you right now.”

Customer: “Ugh, fine. I have a question. But you are helping her.” *looking at me like I’m some kind of alien*

Employee: “Just ask.”

Customer: “Fiiinnnee. I have these wood slices and I need them sanded. I want to put them on my table.”

Employee: “We can’t do that here, I’m sorry.”

(The employee starts walking away with me when the customer exclaims again.)

Customer: “I HAVE ANOTHER QUESTION!”

(She’s now visibly annoyed that he couldn’t read her thoughts.)

Employee: *starts chuckling* “Go on.”

Customer: *her tune getting ruder and ruder, and more provoking* “I need something to varnish them! What should I take?”

Employee: “Just go to the paint department; they will be happy to help you there.”

Customer: *rams her cart around, nearly knocking over a basket standing in her way* “Ugh. FINE!”

(The employee and I go on with my planks. I excuse myself multiple times that he has to deal with my idea and my strange measurements and he assures me that he has seen a LOT worse.)

Me: “At least I’m not b****ing about everything”

(This gave him a huge grin on the face, while he couldn’t really say something, offending other customers.)

(Your picture of Bea Arthur captioned “No I will not have a nice day!” reminds me of my granny. It’s the ’80s and the Reagan/Thatcher consensus has lead one or two retailers to think they can graft US retail culture into the UK. It doesn’t always go well. My granny and I are just turning to leave a hardware shop.)

Assistant: Have a nice day!

Granny: Excuse me, young man?

Assistant: Have a nice day?

Granny: I shall have exactly the sort of day I want to, for all the business it is of yours! Now, I’ll thank you to attend to your duties as they relate to the shop and not enquire as to the private affairs of your patrons! I shall be seeing Mr. [Manager] at the Civic Hall meeting on Saturday and you may rest assured I shall let him know of your impertinence! Now, good day!

(I’m working the graveyard shift: it’s just my colleague, our duty manager, and me. A customer comes to us with a request. Downlights refer to the spotlights that are installed into walls and ceilings.)

Customer: “I was told that you had downlights for the bathroom?”

Colleague: “I’m not sure which ones they would be.”

Me: *coming onto the shop floor to count some stock* “You want any downlight marked as IP65, [Colleague].”

Customer: “Do you have any adjustable ones?”

Me: “No, the moving parts would allow steam in and risk frying the circuits.”

Customer: “Fine, I’ll get these ones.” *picks out an adjustable one which is in no way, shape, or form suitable for the bathroom* “And some of these.” *picks some IP65 ones* “If my electrician agrees with you, I’ll bring them back.”

Me: *praying that her electrician isn’t a cowboy* “Sure, as long as they are in saleable condition. Also, we can order more if we’re short, but they’ll arrive in two days because the centre to process the orders is closed.”

Customer: “All right.”

(Two nights later, the same team is closing and we see the woman collecting the downlights we were short on. As we’re closing, my colleague turns to me.)

Colleague: “That woman returned the adjustable downlights while you were in the back, [My Name].”

Me: “Did she say anything?”

Colleague: “She said you were right, and her electrician wouldn’t install them in her bathroom. I couldn’t not laugh at that.”