Customer: *Holding up hair cement.* “Why is this so expensive?”

Me: “That’s a specialised product, sir. It’s extra strong for maximum hold, and—”

Customer: “—but I can get cement at Lowes for way cheaper than what’s in this tiny little bottle.”

Me: “Sir, that’s very funny.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Oh, you’re being serious? Sir, it’s called cement as an indicator of how strong the product is once it’s dried. It’s not literally cement as you’d find at a hardware store.”

Customer: “That’s stupid and confusing!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir.”

Customer: “You need to name these things something else! Some guys are just gonna see the name and then get their cement from Lowe’s. How are you expecting us to notice there’s a difference?”

Me: “Sir, if you put your head in actual cement, you’re gonna notice the difference.”

I asked him if he needed any more help, and he waved me away, telling me not to be a bother.

I sighed when he called me over again, holding yet another strong-hold hair product we sell called “hair glue”…

Our store sells expensive packs of moisturiser and anti-aging cream that come in little card boxes. We’ve been finding open and empty boxes of these on the shelves for the last few weeks, which is annoying our loss prevention officer no end.

After scouring the cameras, he believes he’s identified the culprit.

One morning, I see him running up to me when I’m at the checkout. He’s pointing at a customer who has just walked into the aisles.

Loss Prevention: “Her! That’s her!”

Me: “The moisturiser thief?”

Loss Prevention: “Yeah! I’m going to keep an eye on her. If she comes through the checkout, delay her!”

He also disappears into the aisles, and I go about opening my checkout and serving customers. 

About ten minutes later, Moisturiser Thief emerges from the aisles and starts walking to the exit, bypassing the checkouts.

Me: *Calling over to her.* “Did you not find what you were looking for, ma’am?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Startled for a second at being spoken to.* “Oh, uh… no. You didn’t have it.”

Me: “Maybe you could tell me what you’re looking for? If we don’t have it in the back, I could order it for you?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Shifting closer to the exit.* “No… uh, I’m okay, thanks.”

The loss prevention officer has appeared now and is standing between her and the exit.

Loss Prevention: “Ma’am, may I please look in your bag?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Whipping around to see the exit being blocked.* “What? No! That’s my bag!”

Loss Prevention: “Ma’am, either you let me look in the bag, or you remove all the moisturiser and anti-ageing creams you’ve stashed in there.”

Moisturiser Thief: “What are you talking about?! I don’t have any of those!”

Loss Prevention: “Then prove it. Show me your bag.”

Moisturiser Thief: “No! You have no right! You need a warrant!”

Loss Prevention: “No, I don’t. That’s not a thing for bag searches.”

Moisturiser Thief: “You’re just some store employee! You can’t stop me! Get out of my way!”

Loss Prevention: “I can’t, but they can.”

Two police officers have shown up (they were called by the loss prevention officer the second the moisturiser thief walked in). He waves them over. The moisturiser thief spends a split second trying to run out of the door, but now with three guys blocking her, she accepts her fate. 

One of the officers gets access to her bag and reveals dozens of anti-ageing creams in there. Some of them are half-used from usage. As the officers escort her out, the loss prevention officer gives her a parting statement:

Loss Prevention: “At least you’ll be wrinkle-free for your mug shot!”

My store used to do free samples for the beauty department on weekends. One particular weekend, we had little pouches of a moisturizer that was supposed to be from one of our more “clean” brands. A woman approaches me about the samples.

Me: “Hi, would you like any free samples?”

Customer: “What do you have?”

Me: “Well, our most popular item has been this moisturizer from [Brand]. It’s regarded as one of our “clean” brands, so no harsh chemicals, it’s cruelty-free and vegan.”

Customer: “We’ll see about that. I hate it when brands do this and are not completely honest. I have this app here that’ll show you’re lying.” 

I’m confused because she’s being weirdly hostile to me.

Me: “I’m not intentionally trying to lie if that’s what you mean. I’m just reading the prompt I was given. I can personally vouch that I am having an eczema outbreak right now, and it’s helped so much with moisturizing and calming down the skin. My coworker is having a random rash on her face that’s pretty painful, and I gave her my sample, and she also said it has helped a lot.”

Customer: “Stop talking and let me get my app to work! Ugh, it’s not wanting to load, but I just know you’re talking out of your butt.”

Me: “Ma’am, if you want, you can take the free sample and try it out yourself.”

Customer: “Fine, but this better not mess up my skin!”

I’m thinking, wow, what a weird interaction, but leave it at that. Next week, again, we are doing free samples, and the woman comes running up.

Customer: “Please tell me you have more samples of that moisturizer from last week! My skin has never been more hydrated and healthier looking.”

Me: “I’m so sorry, but that moisturizer was an incredibly popular free sample, and we were cleared out pretty fast. We do sell the product in stores, though.”

Customer: “Please, show me!”

All that weird hostility and indifference towards the product, only to end up loving it.

I suffer from terribly dry hands in winter, so bad that without constant lotion, my skin cracks and bleeds. Today I forgot to reapply before heading out, and by mid-afternoon, my knuckles and pinkies are a bloody mess.

I pass by a kiosk that sells high-priced skin care products, and the women there are trying to flag down people with samples of lotion in order to pitch their items. I decide I’m desperate enough for a little relief to deal with their sales pitch so I can get a free sample of lotion on my hands.

Me: “I could use some lotion. My hands are really chapped.”

I hold out my hands, expecting her to tear open the sample dose of lotion she’s holding and squirt it onto my skin. However, she takes a look at my cracked and bloody fingers and gasps in horror.

Woman: “Oh no, sir, we need to use our best product for you.”

She puts the lotion packet down and picks up a wide-mouth jar of something coarse and greasy. 

She has me hold my hands over a metal bowl, scoops some stuff out of the jar, and starts rubbing it on my hands.

Woman: “This is made from salt taken from the Dead Sea. Doesn’t it feel amazing?”

Me: *Calmly but emphatically.* “To be honest, it stings like hell because you are literally rubbing salt into my wounds. Could you please wash that off? Quickly?”

Her eyes go wide when she realizes what she’s doing, and she sprays my hands off with a spray bottle as fast as she can. 

She still tried to get me to buy that overpriced oily salt.

I’m working in the back, running stock and cleaning the floor, when an older woman stops me with a lipstick tester in her hand.

Customer: “I like this color. Shade 345. Can you put it on your hand? I don’t want it on mine.”

I’ve done this plenty of times, so I swatch it. She studies it, nods, and picks up the last boxed product on the shelf.

She starts to open it. This is a big no-no.

Me: “Oh! I can check it for you.”

I take it gently, show her the numbering.

Me: “See? The tester is 345, the sticker says 345, and the box also says 345.”

She frowns.

Customer: “The color looks different.”

Me: “I’m sure it’s just the lighting in here.”

She pushes the box toward me.

Customer: “Can you swatch this one?”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t. There’s already a tester, and this is a live product.”

Customer: “What if you swatch it and then I buy it?”

Me: “I still can’t. It wouldn’t be sanitary, and the product has to stay sealed.”

Customer: “Well… can’t you just make this one a tester?”

Me: “We especially can’t make a new tester when we already have one. And it’s the last one; you wouldn’t be able to buy it if I did.”

She stares down at the box.

Customer: “I still don’t think it’s the same shade.”

Me: “I promise it is. But if you get home and feel differently, just bring it back and return it.”

She finally walks away with the product, still looking doubtful. Moments like that make me very grateful I’m usually in the stockroom.