Me: Thank you for calling [Utility Company]. My name is [My Name].”

Customer: “I am calling because I cancelled my credit card and you are using it to pay one of my accounts. I need help figuring out which one it is so I can change the card number.”

Me: “I would be happy to help! I can tell you [Utility Company] does not keep any credit card info on file for any reason. We use the customer’s bank information — the routing and account number.”

Customer: “So, how do I delete the card from your system?”

Me: “Well, ma’am, it is not there to delete. We don’t keep anyone’s credit card info on file, ever.”

Customer: “So, how do I figure out which account you are using to pay the bill?”

Me: *facepalm* “Ma’am, what I am telling you is that we do not have your card information, or anyone’s card information for that matter. There is none to find as we never keep any card numbers on file.”

Customer: *angrily as she feels she has me caught in a lie* “Well, it shows here on my statement that you are taking payments from my card!”

Me: *calmly and politely* “Ma’am, we keep no credit card info in our system. Each time a customer makes a payment with a credit card they give us the number and we enter it manually. No credit card info is ever kept on file. There is no place to look for it and no information to delete or update because it is not in our system.”

Customer: “Well, why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?!” *click*

(I’m shopping. I’m wearing a black shirt with a dragon breathing lightning on the front. In no way, shape, or form is this like a uniform in the big box store I’m in. I’m browsing through some shirts, which are stationed across the walkway from the registers, and it’s a quiet time. No major crowds, and as per usual for big box stores, there are only a couple registers open at this time.)

Woman: “I’m ready to be rung up now!”

(I don’t respond. I don’t work here, so I figure it’s none of my business.)

Woman: “Helloooo! I’m ready to be rung up nowww!”

(I pick up shirts and look them over.)

Woman: “Hello! Hello! Excuse me! Hello!”

(I walk around to the other side of the display. I have a cart with me, fully visible to the registers. When I go to the other side of the display, I push my cart, with my purse and a few other purchases in it, to the other side of the display. I can hear someone stomping in my direction.)

Woman: “HEY! I’m trying to get your attention! I’m ready to be rung up now!”

Me: *slowly looks up* “That’s nice. Go to any open register you like.”

Woman: “I’ve already unloaded my stuff onto the conveyor belt. I’m not moving. Get your a** over there and ring me up!”

(I stare at her. She stares right back. I break gaze, grab the bottom of my shirt and stare down at my lightning-breathing dragon on my front. I look back up, stretch my face into a huge grin, and then laugh in her face.)

Me: “Ha! That’s a good one! Have a lovely day, ma’am!”

(She looks outraged, and then stares at me a little more closely.)

Woman: “You don’t work here.”

Me: “Obviously.”

(When I looked back a short time later, all of her things were back in her cart, and she had slunk to the end of the line of an open register.)

(I work for a while as a cashier in a soaring museum. One of the more popular gift shop items is a model glider. The museum director is with me when a man and his son come up to the counter.)

Customer: “Hi, it’s just this toy.” *hands me a model glider*

Director: “Oh, yes, those are fun. Just don’t fly it too close to the museum; they have a tendency to get stuck on the roof.”  

Customer: “Okay, sure.” *pays and leaves* 

(About ten minutes later:)

Customer: *sheepish* “Yeah, I need to buy another glider. It got stuck on the roof.”

(I call off work for stomach issues and go to the superstore a few blocks away from my house. I go to the self-checkout and occasionally — especially in the mornings — they have their machines as credit/debit only. That is fine by me as the only cash I carry is my gas money. I walk to the area and see a sign that says, “Debit or credit only.” The machines have a red light around the screen that says, “Card mode only.” A pop-up window also explains the machine only takes debit or credit; no cash payment will be accepted and there is no cashback available. And the final whack of that dead horse is an employee telling everyone she sees that there is only credit or debit payment allowed at self-checkout.)

Employee: “Just so you know, ma’am, these machines only take credit or debit.”

Me: “Okay, thank you.” *she goes off to continue telling people, so I whisper to myself* “Wow. This is overkill. I know people can be dumb but who could possibly miss all these—”

(As if on cue, behind me there’s a woman trying to pay for her things, and she flags down the girl employee.) 

Woman: “Why won’t this machine take my money?”

Employee: *unsurprised and unfazed by this question* “Because these machines only take credit or debit card right now, ma’am.”

Me: “Welp.”

(I am on the tills. A woman comes to me and takes a two-pack of girls pyjamas out of a bag, with a receipt, and hands them to me.)

Customer: “I need to return these; I bought them for my granddaughter for Christmas and they were too small.”

Me: “The return period for Christmas gifts is now over, but I can either exchange them or give store credit at the current till price.”

Customer: “But I have my receipt, and I was told I could return them until the end of January.”

Me: “The last date for return on the receipt was the 25th of December, but we extended it to January 14th, which was posted around the shop, including where you queue and even on the till counters.”

Customer: “Well, I was ill when I bought them so I probably didn’t read them.”

Me: *internally* “And?” *out loud* “Well, they are coming up at £9.00, so as I said, it’s either an exchange or vouchers at till value.”

Customer: “But I paid more than that and I have my receipt.”

(She paid £10.50. Mentally banging my head on the counter, I explain again.)

Customer: “No, I am going to look into this. I have my receipt and they are too small, so you have to refund them. I know my rights.”

Me: “Actually, returning something because it is too small is not included in your statutory rights.”

(She just huffed and grabbed the pyjamas and receipt before stropping off. Just to make clear, I don’t get rude or stroppy with customers; I stay polite, which I think annoys them as they can’t complain I have been rude or stroppy to them. I was being nice. I could have actually refused to return them as she had had them so long over our return policy. And all over £1.50…)