Customer: “Do you sell pens?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

We sold all kinds of random crap, though, so I wasn’t all that surprised to be asked that.

Customer: *With great shock and dismay.* “I can’t believe you don’t sell pens!”

Me: “We’re a liquor store, ma’am.”

Customer: “Every liquor store sells pens!” *Looks around, wild-eyed.* “Here! Look! You do sell pens! Here’s a bunch of pens right here!”

Me: “Ma’am, those are lighters.”

Customer: “Well, I call them pens!”

At least she bought a bunch!

I am at a family reunion in San Francisco when the hostess notices that we are running low on alcohol. She asks her son to go to the store and grab some more. Five of us went with him for lack of anything better to do. He was the oldest at thirty, and I was the youngest, having turned twenty-one three months ago.

As we pull up, it hits me that I don’t have my license with me. I wasn’t the driver, so I didn’t think to grab it. We’re a ways away from the house, so I feel bad having ruined the trip, as we will have to go back, get my ID, then come back to the store again.

I don’t say anything to the others. The whole time we are in the store, I’m frantically trying to figure out what to do. Leave to go sit in the car? Suspicious. Pretend not to be part of the group? The cashier saw us enter together. I keep my mouth firmly shut and don’t touch anything. The rest of my cousins and second cousins grab what’s on the list, hoping he just won’t ask when we get to the front. 

When it’s time to check out, the cashier runs his eyes over all of us.

Cashier: “Alright, I’m going to need to see ID for all of you.”

Everyone else starts pulling out their licenses. The cashier then gestures to the thirty-year-old and me.

Cashier: “Not you two. You’re good.”

On the one hand, I was happy that I hadn’t made the whole trip a wasted experience and kept my mouth shut. On the other hand, I was less than flattered that I apparently was pulling off forty-one at twenty-one.

It was another night closing up the liquor store. It was a Sunday, and the law says all alcohol sales stop at 6 PM. It’s not a suggestion, it’s the law.

I’ve just finished turning off the lights, and I’m running the report for the machines. I hear the sound of the front door being tugged. I look, and one of our regulars is knocking on the glass.

He puts his hands together in a pleading manner. I sigh and walk over, opening the window next to the door so we can speak.

Me: “I’m sorry, all sales stop at 6 PM.”

Regular: “Please! I just need a six pack.”

Me: “Sorry, it’s the law.”

Regular: “Come on… I’m not a cop.”

Me: “I’m not a fireman…”

There’s a pause as he tries to work this out.

Me: “Look, I have no problem with you, but I’m not losing my job by serving after six, and [Owner] would kick both of our a**es if we cost him his liquor license.”

This seemed to get through to him, and he left. He was there again bright and early on Monday morning, though.

A man tries to return a completely empty champagne bottle on New Year’s Day.

Me: “Sir, we don’t do refunds on consumed alcohol.”

Customer: “But it didn’t taste celebratory enough.”

Me: “I’m not even sure what that means, but even if I did, the bottle’s empty.”

Customer: “Yeah, well… I needed to confirm that.”

Me: “Be that as it may, I can’t process a refund.

Customer: “Ugh! You’re ruining my whole year!

To those who don’t know, New Year’s Eve is like Black Friday for liquor stores. We’ve been rammed all day, and unlike other holidays, ours only gets crazier the closer to midnight we get.

Customer: “You’re out of champagne.”

Me: “Yeah, we’ve been out since midday.”

Customer: “You’re not getting any more?”

Me: “Not in time for New Year’s.”

Customer: “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

Me: “Sorry, but it’s our busiest day of the year today.”

Customer: “Well, can’t you take some white wine and maybe shake it a little?”

Me: “…for what reason?”

Customer: “To give it bubbles! That’s what champagne is, isn’t it?”

A thousand winemakers from the northeast of France just cried into their champagne flutes.