I’m a cashier for a regional store chain. We fundraise for charities several times a year, and we are required to ask the customer at the end of the transaction if they would like to donate. If we don’t ask, then the customer gets the two-liter soda that’s at our register.

I start scanning the customer’s items: she has two separate transactions, with the last one being WIC (government assistance).

Customer: *Extremely persistent* “You never asked me to donate, so I get this soda.”

Me: “We aren’t required to ask until the end of the transaction, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, you never asked!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not done with your transaction. I will ask you then so that it doesn’t interfere with my scanning.”

I finish scanning the items in the first transaction. I speak sort of passively due to irritation.

Me: “Would you like to donate a dollar toward [Charity]?”

Customer: “Oh, no, thank you.”

It irritates me that she doesn’t bother to donate after creating a fuss about not getting the soda. But she has a plan.

I start with her next order. She starts telling me how she gets the soda since I didn’t ask, and I explain again how I don’t ask until the end. The WIC system messes up, so I call a manager over to fix it.

Customer: *To my manager* “She didn’t ask about the donation, so I get this soda.”

Manager: “Ma’am, she hasn’t finished the transaction.”

Customer: “But she never asked! So I’m supposed to get the soda!”

My manager finishes processing the WIC.

Manager: “Fine, you can take it. It isn’t very good anyway.”

We gave her the soda, and the lady walked out with a disgustingly smug look. My manager was just as ticked off as I was, and she told me not to worry about it since she knew it wasn’t my fault.

Related:
This Is Soda-Pressing, Part 2
This Is Soda-Pressing

It’s more or less been a quiet day at work when I decide to go out and get some missing carts. There are only a few cars in the parking lot, one being a little Volkswagen bug, windows down, with an older lady looking at her cell phone. As I start to move a cart away from where it was sitting, a couple of spaces away from her car, she proceeds to yell at me.

Old Woman: “Can’t you see I’m busy?! Cut that noise out!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I was just getting these carts. I’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

Old Woman: “No! You’re going to cause too much noise pushing them! You should carry the carts back to the store, if you need them so bad!”

I’m a small woman, and while it wouldn’t be impossible to carry the cart back to the store, I’m not gonna do that for all eight carts that are outside, each about fifty yards away from the store.

Me: “No can do, ma’am. Sorry for the noise. I’ll make it one trip and you won’t hear the noise again.”

She proceeded to yell at me while I finished getting the carts and I just ignored her.

I am working the register at a well-known fast food restaurant, which at this time doesn’t have any specifically vegetarian options, and this is a commonly-known fact.

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Hi, my daughters and I are vegetarian. What do you have that we can eat?”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but we don’t have any specifically vegetarian options here, but we can remove the meat from specific items like our salads and burgers to make them vegetarian if that suits you?”

Customer: “Yeah, we’d like some burgers, thanks.”

Me: “Of course. If you like, you could pick one with a lot of salad fillings and we can just do those without the meat patty?”

Customer: “Oh, that sounds great. What are our options?”

I go over every burger we have that includes salad items plus what they were, with the customer refusing each option and seeming to get more frustrated. Only after I’ve exhausted all options and a queue has built up behind the guy…

Customer: “Look, why can’t we just have our usual?”

I try not to act annoyed at the fact that this could have been over a long time ago.

Me: “Of course, sir, what’s your usual?”

Customer: “The cheeseburgers; we always get the cheeseburgers!”

Me: “No problem, sir. So just to confirm, you want three cheeseburgers, which come with just cheese and nothing else?”

Customer: “Yes! Finally, was that so hard?”

I processed the order as requested. Cue several odd looks from the cooks as they read the ticket, but nonetheless, the guy walked off happily two minutes later with what was essentially a bag of bread buns and cheese slices.

I’m ringing up a customer in his late fifties or early sixties.

Me: “Do you need your receipt today?”

Customer: “Hmm, I need a cure for cancer, a million-dollar lottery ticket, and a girlfriend who doesn’t cheat on me with other women, but not my receipt.” 

He walked off, leaving me in stunned silence.

Customer: “I want a hot latte iced.”

Further explanation is obviously necessary!

Customer: “I want it heated up then poured over ice! They do it for me all the time.”

Me: “I have to warn you, that might taste weird.”

She insists on her order so I steam the milk, add espresso, and then pour it over ice. She takes a sip.

Customer: “Eww, it tastes like medicine!”