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There’s Only One Person With Behavioral Difficulties Here And It’s Not The Girl

, , , , | Right | July 21, 2021

I’m a security guard at the local market. I see a regular customer come in with his teenage daughter. Most employees and some other regulars know that the daughter has autism, and she always wears earmuffs when out in public due to her sensitive hearing.

Me: “Good morning, [Regular]. Morning, [Daughter].”

Regular: “Morning.”

The daughter just smiles and gives a small wave. They go about their shopping and I think nothing more of it.

About twenty minutes later, a loud crash comes from the back of the store. I rush over and find the regular holding his daughter, who’s currently holding her earmuffs tightly and rocking in place. Another customer is yelling his head off at the daughter. Several wine bottles are shattered on the floor.

Angry Customer: “You stupid b****! If you had taken off those f****** headphones, you’d have heard me coming around the corner!”

The regular is gently trying to soothe his daughter while talking in an even tone to the customer.

Regular: “Sir, I apologize on my daughter’s behalf for getting in your way, but I must ask that you tone it down. She’s very sensitive to loud noises, and we don’t need—”

Angry Customer: “It’s not my fault your daughter’s a [ableist slur]! Look at this f****** mess!”

I can see the regular struggling to keep his composure, and I know the only thing keeping him from decking the other customer is that he doesn’t want to aggravate his daughter any further. I quickly step in.

Me: “Okay, that’s enough. Nobody’s hurt. Sir, I suggest you continue with your shopping and please leave these two alone.”

Angry Customer: “Stay out of this, rent-a-cop! I make three times your salary! Who are you to order me around?!”

The owner arrives and sees the commotion.

Owner: “What’s going on?”

I quickly recap the situation while the angry customer continues to curse and scream, and at one point, I even have to stop him from trying to reach over and rip off her earmuffs.

Owner: *To me* “Kick his a** out now. I’m calling the police.” *Walks away*

Me: “All right, sir, time to go. You’re causing a disturbance and you’re no longer welcome here.”

Angry Customer: “Shut the f*** up! This is public property! I have a right to be wherever the f*** I want!”

Me: “Actually, this store is private property, and you’re now considered trespassing, so I suggest you leave your groceries and leave, as the police are on the way.”

Angry Customer: “F*** this place! I hope it burns down with all of you inside, especially that [ableist slur]!” *Storms away*

I check on the regular and his daughter while the janitor shows up to clean the mess.

Me: “Are you two all right? Sorry about this.”

The daughter is still rocking violently despite her father’s soothing.

Regular: “She’ll be fine, but I’d better take her home. I’m sorry. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

The police arrived fifteen minutes later and took information on the incident. They said to call again if the customer came back; fortunately, he never did.

The regular and his daughter came back the next day like he said, and thankfully, she seemed to be back to normal!

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When There Isn’t A “Corporate” To Empower Them

, , , , , | Right | March 22, 2021

I’m selling at a market for handmade goods. I crochet and make beaded jewelry. One of my current “hot sellers” at this market is baby hats, and I am down to four left of the forty I brought.

A customer comes over to coo over the hats. I tell her the price and repeat twice that those are the last four hats I have with me and that I have no supplies on me to make others.

Customer: “So, do you have this in pink? There’s a little girl coming to the family soon and we’d like to get her everything pink.”

Me: “Not today, no. Those four hats are the only four I’ve got with me, but I can—”

Customer: *Cutting me off* “Then I suggest you go into the back and look. I’m a paying customer.”

Me: “There is no ‘back.’ These are goods I’ve made by hand, myself. I brought everything I had with me today.”

The customer stares and then picks up my card and thrusts it at me.

Customer: “I’ll call and get you fired, little girl. You wait!”

My phone is in front of me, as it’s how I take card transactions — through an app on it with a card reader. She does, in fact, dial my number.

I actually do answer in front of her.

Me: “[My Name], owner of [My Shop]; how can I help you today?”

I’ve never seen someone of adult age stomp off so quickly. The vendor beside me said that was her favorite moment of the day.


This story is part of our Best Of March 2021 roundup!

Read the next Best Of March 2021 roundup story!

Read the Best Of March 2021 roundup!

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Being Trilingual Is Such A Burden Sometimes

, , , , | Right | February 12, 2021

I am the somewhat stupid customer here. It’s a Sunday morning and I’m browsing a baked goods stall for breakfast. I’m on this island unexpectedly because there were rough seas and our ship had to divert to a different port, so I’m still adjusting.

Me: “I’d like twelve of the beignets with cheese.”

Merchant: “The beignets. You want twelve for six Euros?”

Me: *Suddenly in Italian* “Yes, for six.”

Merchant: *In French* “Pardon?”

Me: *Laughing, speaking in French* “I’m sorry. I just arrived from Italy and still think in their language.”

Merchant: *Laughing* “I thought you were American.”

Me: “Oh, I am. I’m just very confused today.”

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An Apologetic Customer Is Never Eggs-pected

, , , , | Right | June 28, 2020

I am shopping at the local farmer’s market and my last stop is the stand where I usually buy eggs. The lady who runs the stand is always incredibly patient and nice, and let’s just say I am being an airhead this day.

Me: “Hello. I’d like a dozen eggs, please.”

Farmer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I only have a half-dozen eggs.”

I stupidly think she means she has only half-cartons.

Me: “That’s okay; I’ll just take two of those.”

Farmer: *Hesitates* “Um, no, I mean that I literally only have six eggs.”

She pulls out her last carton, opens it, and shows me that there are only six eggs inside.

Farmer: “The last person only bought six and this was my last carton.”

Me: “Oh, my God, I am so stupid. Sorry about that, and thank you very much!”

I left rather embarrassed, and without any eggs.

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Only One Brain Cell Per Customer

, , , , | Right | June 16, 2020

On certain sale items, there is a limit on how many a customer can buy. For this particular item, it’s limited to one per customer.

Customer: “Excuse me, how much are these?”

Me: “Those are $6.99, but there is a limit of one per customer.”

Customer: “Oh.”

The customer puts two on the counter.

Me: “No, you can only get one.”

The customer just stares blankly. I repeat the above two lines about three times.

Me: *Giving up* “Okay, then, I’ll just ring these two up and your total is—”

Customer: “Oh, wait! $6.99? Can I get two more?”

Me: “No, these items are one per customer. You can only buy one. I’ll give you these two but you can’t buy any more. Because you’re only supposed to buy one. Because there’s a limit.”

The customer just stares blankly again.

Me: “You see this item? You can only buy one but I’m letting you buy two. You cannot buy more.” 

Customer: “Oh… Well, okay, then.”

She paid and walked off with a confused look on her face, still not quite understanding.

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