We’re holding a late-night Christmas shopping event with a free glass of champagne for customers upon entry and sparkling juice for non-drinkers and children. There’s a sign up stating one per customer, and so far everyone has accepted this.

I’m a supervisor, and one of the only staff members over the age of eighteen, so I am the only one handling the alcohol. A man comes in to browse and takes a glass of champagne. About five minutes later, he comes back to me. 

Customer: “I need another glass of this.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. We’re only allowed to give out one glass per customer. You could have a glass of sparkling juice if you’d like?”

Customer: “But I don’t want juice. There are glasses on the table and no queue, so I’m having another.”

Me: “We can’t give out more than one per customer; otherwise, we would have to charge the minimum unit price, and we’re not licensed to sell alcohol.”

The customer huffs and walks away to keep browsing.

Two minutes pass, and I notice he’s talking to an underage member of staff who joined two weeks ago. He walks back over.

Customer: *Triumphantly* “She says I can have another glass!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry but you can’t. I’ve already told you why. We only have a limited amount and it’s not fair on other customers.”

Customer: “But she said I could, so you have to! I’ve just bought £120 of pyjamas, too!”

Me: “I’m her supervisor, and she’s under eighteen so she can’t serve alcohol. So no, you can’t.”

He turns around and storms to the counter and returns the pyjamas. 

He storms back towards the front of the store to leave, and as he walks out, he turns over his shoulder. 

Customer: *Sarcastically* “Merry Christmas!”

The bottles of champagne were literally the cheapest available. He could have bought one from the shop right next to us for under £5 and drunk the whole bottle!

Related:
Forgetting The Juicy Details

It’s Christmas Eve in a large, chain toy store. Usually, we have a price-match guarantee, but we don’t price-match on Christmas Eve or Black Friday. I am working at the customer service desk. An irate older woman customer approaches me.

Customer: “Excuse me, can you price-match [Major Retailer] on this doll?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am we can’t price-match on Christmas Eve.”

Customer: “Well, it says you have a price-match guarantee.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but not on holidays.”

Customer: “Well, [Major Retailer] only has the black doll; I don’t want to get my granddaughter the black doll.”

She says this with such great scorn that I am flabbergasted.

Me: “Let me get my manager.”

Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: “I need to price-match this doll.”

Manager: “I’m sorry I can’t price-match on Christmas Eve.”

Customer: “Well, I never!”

She storms out.

Manager: “What a b****.”

It is Christmas Eve and the store is insanely busy, as expected. I am head cash this evening, and most customers are extremely understanding if I make a mistake from going too fast or if we don’t have anything in stock. All in all, it’s a lovely shift since we close early at 5:00 pm.

A regular shows up beside my cash register on the other side of the half-door closing off the cash area; she’s waiting for her friend in the line. For context, she is extremely old, uses a walker, and most importantly, wheezes every three words and is incredibly annoying even if you aren’t overwhelmed by Christmas Eve in a retail store. She’s a talker, so while she’s sitting in her walker next to the cash she talks about God knows what.

My manager comes up and leans over her to look at the break schedule posted at cash. She has a few returns in her hand. The lady points at a pink fuzzy hair clip in my manager’s hand.

Old Lady: “Oh, I want this!”

Manager: “Oh, yeah, of course!”

The manager gives it to her and walks away.

Old Lady: *Turns to me* “Could you cash this out for me, dear?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait in line with everybody else.”

Old Lady: *Whining a bit* “Well, that’s not fair; it’s just one small item!”

Me: “It’s really busy and everyone else has been waiting in the line, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to allow someone to cut in.”

The old lady looks at the line and back at me with fake pain her voice and eyes.

Old Lady: “Oh, I can’t wait in that line!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t ring you through before everyone else.”

I turn back to the line of customers.

Me: “I can help who’s next!”

I’m ringing through customer after customer as fast as I can and even with all four cashiers working, the line is stretching almost in a circle back through an aisle. As I’m working, the old lady keeps asking me to ring in her item over and over and I keep telling her I can’t. Now my assistant manager comes up to go into the cash area.

Old Lady: “Oh, sweetheart, could you ring this up for me real fast?”

Assistant Manager: “I’m sorry, hun, but it is Christmas Eve and all these customers have been waiting. Now I’m gonna need you to move so I can get through the door.”

My assistant manager comes and goes, also dealing with the repeated question. Eventually, the old lady decides to silently lean on the half-door next to me and invade my space and wheeze in my ear. She eventually slides the hair clip and some cash onto the corner of my counter, making the customers I’m ringing up incredibly uncomfortable.

I’m trying my best to ignore her during this because I am not letting her think she can play a sympathy card whenever she wants. The second cashier finishes a customer and calls the next one up, and the old lady cuts in front of them and asks the second cashier, who has probably been watching this play out, the same question, complete with puppy dog eyes.

Old Lady: “Could you please ring this up for me?”

he cashier shot me a look that said, “Come on. I should just do it.” I shot back a look that said, “No, don’t; she needs to learn her lesson.” The cashier looked at me like, “Sorry!”, and then quickly rang the old lady through while the other customer was waiting.

Now I was fuming that the second cashier blew all my hard work of ignoring the old lady’s pleas, but later while thinking about it, I learned something that’s extremely important to know when working in retail: you have to know when to make a customer learn their lesson, and when to do what they want just to get them the f*** out of your store!

I work at a small discount retail store during the holidays. You learn to just roll with the crazy. It is Christmas; the busiest shopping time of the year.

My boss is restocking at the end of my register, and a cashier and I are on our only two registers, trying to get the line of customers wrapping around our small store out as fast as possible. Now, to be clear, these are the only registers the store has, and that is very obvious. A woman storms up to my register.

Customer: “I demand to see a manager!”

Me: *Still ringing up customers* “Ma’am, I am a manager, but I am currently very busy ringing up customers. Is it a quick question, or do you need further help than that? If that’s the case, my boss over there can assist you.”

The woman huffs and storms over to my boss, who is a very no-nonsense lady.

Customer: “Are you the manager?”

Boss: “I am the store manager. How can I help you?”

Customer: “You need to open up another register! Can’t you see how long the line is?”

My boss looks at the cashier and me scanning as fast as we can at the only two registers.

Boss: “Ma’am, these are our only registers. My employees are both ringing people up as fast as they possibly can. I apologize for the wait, but it is the busiest time of year. They will be able to ring you up shortly if you just get in line.”

Customer: “No, you need to go open another register! This is ridiculous!”

Boss: “Ma’am, there are no other registers, just these two.”

Customer: “Then get one out of the back!”

Boss: “Ma’am, it doesn’t work like that. There are no registers in the back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’re quite busy with a lot to do. If you go stand in line, they’ll get to you shortly.”

The woman stomps off angrily. My boss comes up and hands me the store phone.

Me: “I literally have no words. I wish we had a magical register we could set up for times like these.”

Boss: “I’m taking a smoke break.”

The frequent customer I’m currently ringing up speaks up:

Frequent Customer: “While you’re out there, take a look and see if there’re any registers out there you can bring in and hook up!”

Related:
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 14
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 13
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 12
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 11
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 10

I work at a Christmas market selling sausages at a booth. One customer doesn’t seem happy with the change I gave her.

Customer: “Excuse me, this bill has something written on it. I want another bill.”

Me: *Looking at the bill* “I can’t find anything wrong.”

Customer: *Sighs* “Right here.”

She points at a part of the bill; I can’t help but chuckle.

Me: “Madam, this is the signature of our financial minister. There is one like that on every banknote; it’s printed on and without it, it wouldn’t be valid and would be a forgery.”

Customer: “But there isn’t one on this one!”

She pulls out another note, with an obvious signature on it. I point it out to her.

Me: “There is a signature there, as well, see? It’s just from the last minister. I’m sorry, but you’re keeping other people waiting and I don’t have the time to look through my change to get you a bill with another signature.”

Customer: *Huffs away angrily*