I used to work at a major, well-known retail chain. I worked up front on the registers and in customer service. I was very much customer-facing, so I had lots of regulars who knew me. Our uniform included black or khaki pants and a blue or white collared shirt, and I always wore my hair tied back at work.

One day, I was off, so I was wearing shorts and a graphic tee, and my hair was loose. I went on a date with my boyfriend, and to kill time before our movie started, we wandered around a different, also well-known retail chain.

A lady who looked vaguely familiar came up to me.

Lady: “Hi! Can you tell me where your headphones are? I know you’ll know; you always know where stuff is.”

Yay for the compliment, I guess.

I kind of just stared for a second and then started looking around for an employee.

Me: *Stammering* “Um… I’m not entirely sure…”

The lady paused, looked at me again, and took in my outfit.

Lady: “Oh, my goodness! It’s your day off! I’m so sorry to bother you while you’re getting some shopping. I’ll find someone who’s working today!”

And off she went… still not realizing she had the wrong store employee.

I was visiting my grandparents during Thanksgiving week. They decided to bring me along to a retailer known for their uniforms consisting of a red shirt and tan pants to find some decorations to compliment their newly-renovated house.

And it was on that day that I decided to get lazy and throw on whatever I had packed for the visit: a red shirt, dark tan pants, and a black sweatshirt that might’ve been too small at the time, allowing the bottom hem of my shirt to stick out in places.

While we were in the bedding section, I went off to the snack bar for a quick bite, mostly because my grandparents suggested it; they knew they would need more time before checkout, and my hunger was getting the better of me.

At the snack bar, the cashier took my order as normal, and I was busy counting out my change for payment.

Cashier: “Employee discount?”

Me: “Um, what?”

Cashier: “…Do you work here?”

Me: “Oh, no, I don’t work here.”

It was then that she realized her mistake and pointed to my outfit, and it was then that I realized why she thought I worked there. But we had a quick laugh about this little misunderstanding, and after making a quick quip about how I at least avoided the meaner types of customers in your typical “I don’t work here” scenarios, I paid and enjoyed my pretzel and drink in peace.

So, yeah, when going into a store, don’t get lazy with your choice of outfit colors, even if this take ended a lot more goofy than expected.

A year or so ago, I was at the Swedish furniture store to get some things for my new flat. As one does, I needed some garbage bins and couldn’t find the particular one I was looking for, so I asked for help.

Employee: “You won’t find those downstairs; you’ll have to upstairs to the kitchen section.”

So, I began my journey back through the masses and upstairs to collect my desired garbage bin. Since I was given directions and know the place quite well, I was going quite fast and confidently toward the kitchen section when I was stopped by someone.

Customer #1: “Hi, excuse me! Can you help me?”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

I gave them a puzzled look because everyone knows the employees in this store wear blue and yellow uniforms, and I was wearing a combination of a crop top and jeans, but I went on.

Just one minute later, the next person got in my way and started:

Customer #2: “Yeah, hi, can you help me find [item #1]?”

Me: *Confused* “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

And I rushed by. Mind you, my boyfriend was waiting for me, and I didn’t want to leave him waiting so long while I idled around.

Lo and behold, yet another woman approached me.

Customer #3: “Hi! Where can I find [item #2]?”

To be honest, at that point, I was a bit fed up.

Me: “Why? Do I look like I work here?”

I pointed at my not-yellow-and-blue attire.

Customer #3: *Angrily* “Yes!”

I must have looked very competent that day since I walked fast and knew where I was going.

I was working at one of the only bookstore chains left in the USA when I got a call from an older woman. It started out unremarkable, with her asking for directions to our store. Then, she asked if we had a certain beauty store next to ours. In fact, we did. Then, she launched into a line of questioning that went like this.

Caller: “Does [Beauty Store] have [product]?”

Me: “I’m not sure, ma’am; I don’t work there. I’d be happy to answer any questions about [My Bookstore]’s products, though.”

Caller: “Well, can you tell me how much [product] is?”

Me: *Pauses* “No. I have no idea about any of their products. I don’t work there. I hardly ever even go in there.”

Caller: *Sounding annoyed* “Can you at least give me their phone number, then, so I can talk to someone that knows?”

Me: “I don’t have it on hand. Why don’t you look it up?”

She then hung up on me, but not before telling me how unhelpful and rude I was.

I work for a company that reset displays at home improvement stores. I don’t actually WORK for the store; I’m just there on behalf of the company that’s creating a display of their products there.

I don’t wear any kind of identifying uniform or apron or anything, but even so, I usually have to field questions all day long from people looking for stuff in this huge store. Most of the time it’s old guys just barking products at me in lieu of an actual question: “Wood glue!” or the like.

This most recent time:

Customer: “Wall brackets!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I have no idea. I don’t work here.”

Customer: “Stop being a lazy punk and do your job!”

Me: “I am. I don’t work here because—”

Customer: “Go get your manager!”

Me: “He’s in Connecticut.”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “I don’t work here! I work for another company!”

Customer: “Well… I still want to talk to your manager!”

Me: “And tell him what?”

Customer: “That you don’t know where the wall brackets are!” 

Me: “Sir, I’m going to lunch. Moan at a manager here if you feel so inclined, but they’ll tell you the same thing I told you.”

And with that, I walked out to enjoy my sandwich.

Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 46
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 45
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 44
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 43
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 42