A “Regular” Pain In The A**

, , , , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(There is a regular customer who always goes through my line if I’m working, and always finds some reason to scream at me. Our registers are odd in that they are longer than most, so you have to give items a good shove to get them down to the bagging area.)

Me: “Hello. How are you tonight?”

Regular: “I’d be better without your nasty attitude.”

(I force a smile and nod. I don’t have a bagger, so I do what I normally do when I don’t have one: bag groceries and keep them close to me so I can hand them to the customer, rather than shove them down with no one to catch them in case they topple over and something breaks, gets crushed, etc.)

Me: “Your total tonight is [amount].”

Regular: “That f****** attitude again. God!”

(She pays and I hand her her receipt. I turn to pick up her groceries, but when I turn back she’s gone and there’s another customer waiting. I look and she’s standing by the bagging area, hands on her hips.)

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry about that! Here.”

(I give her bags a little push to get them closer to her; she’s probably 4’10”, so getting the bags in the first place isn’t easy.)

Regular: “You got some f****** nerve rushing me, you stupid c***!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Regular: “Yeah, you f****** will be!”

(She storms off, leaving her bags behind. I shrug and deal with the next customer, who is considerably nicer than the regular. As I’m serving more customers, I catch a shout of, “that little b**** c*** on register three,” so I turn and see the regular shouting at the manager on duty. I raise my eyebrows because she’s never gone as far as to report me, and she notices.)

Regular: “And now she’s giving me filthy f***** looks, that little s***!”

(My current customer raises his own eyebrows and looks from the regular to me.)

Other Customer: “Wow. What did you do?”

Me: “I don’t know. Gave her her groceries? Looked at her?”

Other Customer: *shakes his head* “What some people will do for kicks. Hang in there, kiddo.”

Me: “Thanks.”

(He’s my last customer, so once he’s gone the Manager On Duty comes over. I see the regular storming out, without her groceries, screaming to anyone who will listen about me.)

Me: “So, [Manager On Duty], am I in trouble?”

Manager On Duty: *laughs* “First, tell me your side.”

Me: “She was waiting in the bagging area and she’s short, so I gave her groceries a little push to get them to her. Then when I heard her screaming about me I looked over at you two.”

Manager On Duty: *laughs again* “Yeah, I kind of figured it was something like that. I couldn’t tell her to go s*** in a hat, which is what I wanted to do, so I told her I’d report you to [Owner].”

Me: “Are you going to?”

Manager On Duty: “Of course not! You’re one of the most courteous cashiers here. Hopefully she falls in a ditch on her way home and rots there, because she screamed, ‘stop rushing me,’ at people trying to help her out.”

“Ready” To Make A Meal Out Of It

, , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(I’m in a cashier’s line behind two others, [Customer #1] is a woman on her phone who looks like she’s in a hurry, buying frozen TV dinners. [Customer #2] is an older woman who appears to have nothing to purchase.)

Cashier: “That’ll be [total], please.”

Customer #1: *on the phone* “Yeah, yeah, I’ll have 15 minutes to get there.” *to cashier* “Thanks.”

(Just as she’s bagging, [Customer #2] interjects.)

Customer #2: “How could you do that to yourself?!”

Customer #1: “Excuse me?”

Customer #2: “Those food trays! Do you know how many horrible chemicals are in those? So many preservatives! They’ll kill you!”

(The bagger starts helping her bag faster.)

Customer #2: “How can people eat that stuff? I would never poison myself like that.”

([Customer #1] rolls her eyes and leaves.)

Cashier: “How can I help you?”

Customer #2: “Three packs of [Cigarettes] and a bottle of tequila, please.”

You’ve Got To Cook Bacon To Bring Home The Bacon

, , , , , , | Working | November 27, 2017

(A new duty manager has started with us. We come in after an extended weekend to find the entire menu changed and half the stock missing.)

Me: *after checking the stock* “What the h*** is going on?”

Manager: “Who was here on Saturday?”

Duty Manager: “Hello! My, isn’t it a mess in here?!”

Manager: “[Duty Manager], do you know anything about this? Half the stock is missing.”

Duty Manager: “Oh, I came in yesterday and cleansed the menu. It’s shocking how little of it was kosher!”

Manager: “Kosher? But we aren’t a kosher restaurant.”

Duty Manager: “Well, you should be. I’m Jewish and you should be sensitive to my religious beliefs.”

Manager: “But, we already have kosher selections. Are you seriously expecting our customers to be sensitive to your beliefs as well? What about [My Name]? He’s Jewish and doesn’t have a problem with it.”

Duty Manager: “He’s probably just a convert. I have real blood in my veins.”

Me: “Well, not that your accusation isn’t insulting enough, but if we’re dealing with respecting beliefs, shouldn’t we only have halal on the menu, as well, because of [Colleague]?”

Duty Manager: “Oh, no. It’s only the Jews you have to care about, because of the Holocaust.”

Manager: “What?!”

Duty Manager: “We deserve something back.”

(We’re all stunned into silence for a moment.)

Me: “Well, I guess I’m owed twice then, because I’m Jewish and gay.”

Duty Manager: “See?! You aren’t a real Jew, because Jews can’t be gay.”

Manager: “I’ve had enough. In my office, now!”

(We were forced to close after that day for a week to restock, and the duty manager worked that shift refusing to leave the office. About £15,000 of food was lost because of her, which the owner decided to pay themselves to avoid any further complications when dealing with conflicts of religion. It was mutually agreed that the duty manager should simply leave. Today as I was walking to work I bumped into her, causing her bacon sandwich to spray across the ground. I stared in disbelief as she tried to pick up the remains. When she recognised me, she screamed, “IT’S HARD SOMETIMES!” before storming off.)

Me No Speak Espaniano

, , , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(I am the manager of a store in a neighborhood that is heavily populated with Cuban-American people. This exchange happens between a customer and my employee, Fernando.)

Customer: *speaks Spanish*

Fernando: “I’m sorry, sir; I don’t speak Spanish.”

Customer: *yelling in English* “You need to learn your roots and speak the mother-tongue of our people!”

Fernando: *pointing to his name badge* “Fernando… Italiano!”

Customer: *quietly walks out the door*

Perhaps You Should Dig Into Your Pocket

, , , , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(My first week on my first job at an amusement park when I am 16, a customer comes up to me with the following:)

Customer: “Excuse me, do you know where [Theater] is?”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, I do not.”

Customer: “How could you not know where this theater is?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but it is my first week.”

Customer: “Maybe you should learn the park you work in.”

Me: “Well, I am sorry, sir, but maybe if I had a park map in my front pocket, I could help you out.”

(The customer looked down at his park map in his pocket and stormed off.)

Page 60/141First...5859606162...Last
« Previous
Next »