(I spot a confused-looking customer walking back and forth across the store with a bunch of bananas in her hand.)

Me: “Excuse me. Do you need a hand with anything? You look a little lost.”

Customer: “Oh, yes, please. Could you tell me where I’d find the little plastic bags you put fruit and veggies in? I want to put my bananas in one, but I can’t figure out where they’d be.”

Me: “The plastic bags you put fruit and veggies in?”

Customer: “Yes, where are they.”

Me: “They’re in the fruit and veggie section.”

Customer: “Oh! Is that where they are? Thank you so much.”

(I watched, speechless, as she walked over to said section, right up to the banana stall that she’d clearly already visited, and took a bag from the very obvious roll of bags attached to it. It’s not the fact that she didn’t spot the bags the first time that gets me — although that is odd because they are really obvious — but the fact that she’d wandered all the way over to the other end of the store to see if we kept the fruit and veggie bags there.)

(I am tidying up my department when I come across an expensive pair of sunglasses that someone has left behind. I pick them up to take to the counter.)

Me: *to my coworker* “Look at what I just found.”

Coworker: “Ooh, those look nice.”

Me: “Yes, if I can’t find the owner, I’d like to keep them myself.”

Coworker: “No, I’ll take them; give them to me.”

Me: “No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I found them.”

Coworker: “But I saw them first so I should have them.”

Me: “You saw them first, when?”

Coworker: “I was walking past [department] and saw them on the shelf.”

Me: “You didn’t pick them up?”

Coworker: “No, I was too busy, so they should be mine. I’ll take them now.”

Me: “Nope, they legally have to be kept for two weeks to give the owner a chance to claim them, so I’ll put them in the office.”

Coworker: “Oh, anyway, a customer was looking for glasses earlier; she asked if I had seen any.”

Me: “Okay, did you get her phone number?”

(It’s standard to take details in case we do find property.)

Coworker: “No.”

Me: “Well, if she comes back they will be in the office.”  

([Coworker] had a spoilt-brat, sulky look on her face for the rest of the day and pretty much ignored me. Three months later, I was tidying the office and came across the sunglasses which had been hidden by someone and forgotten about. I did end up with a lovely pair of sunnies.)

(We have recently run a voucher promotion giving customers 50% off their next purchase. I am on my lunch break out back when one of the other two employees asks me to come help with a customer.)

Customer: “I’d like to purchase these shoes, but I don’t have my voucher on me.”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, ma’am, we do require the voucher to process the discount. Are you able to come back with your voucher? We can hold the shoes for you.”

(The customer starts becoming more upset and I realise this is why I was asked to help.)

Customer: “Why would I possibly need to bring the voucher with me? This is ridiculous! Is this some kind of trick to get customers to come back to your store and spend money, and then you don’t give them the discount?”

Me: “Not at all, ma’am. I’m sorry for the confusion, but I really do need the voucher. The code needs to go into our computer system, and the voucher sent to our head office. And unfortunately, the whole point of the voucher is that you need to bring it back. We can’t just give out 50% discounts.”

Customer: “I can’t believe this! I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: “Unfortunately, our manager isn’t in today, but I’m the most senior staff member here so I’m happy to try and help you. Or I can get my manager to call you tomorrow when she’s in?”

Customer: “No! Give me her mobile number, then; I want to speak to her!”

Me: *somewhat shocked* “Ma’am, I can’t give out my manager’s personal mobile number, or bother her during her day off. You’re welcome to call our head office if you aren’t happy with what I’m able to offer you.”

Customer: “Then I want your name, and I’m going to file a complaint about you to your head office!”

Me: “If that’s what you’d like to do, then my name is [My First Name], and here’s a card with our head office number.”

Customer: “And what’s your surname?!”

(I have a distinctive surname, so don’t want to give it to this crazy customer!)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to give you my surname. I’m the only [My First Name] working at this store, so that will be enough to identify me.”

Customer: “Well, how do I know that’s even your name?! You’re not wearing a badge!”

Me: *sigh* “I don’t have a badge because I only recently started at this store, but the other staff members here will verify that [My First Name] is my real name.”

(The customer raises her voice in triumph, thinking I’ve been caught out.)

Customer: “Ha! You just said you were the most senior staff member, and you’ve only just started working here! This is outrageous! I demand to speak to your manager!”

(By this stage, I’m feeling thoroughly harassed by this customer and her barrage of questions.)

Customer: “Ma’am, I’ve been with [Company] for three years and recently transferred to this store from [Other Location]. I don’t have a badge because we have different uniforms and my new badge hasn’t arrived yet. So, if you like, you can either return with your voucher, my manager can call you tomorrow, or you can call head office with your concerns, and those are our options. What would you like to do?”

Customer: “Well, fine. I’ll just call your head office, then, and expect to hear about it!”

(She then slowly rants her way out of the store, stopping with my colleagues on the way, when I realise she has left her credit card on the counter. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to throw it straight in the bin.)

Me: “Ma’am! You forgot your credit card!”

Customer: “Hrmph!” *storms out*

(The next day, I spoke with my manager who assured me I’d done everything right, and agreed that the customer was crazy and/or very dim to not realise you need to bring a voucher in to claim its discount. I never heard from head office about her complaint!)

(We have had a customer in the store for a couple of hours trying to choose curtain fabric. I’ve spent time with her but my supervisor has decided I’ve been with her for too long and pulls me aside.)

Supervisor: “What’s taking so long with this customer?”

Me: “I can’t get away from her; she wants curtain fabric and can’t decide.”

Supervisor: “Just show her where the fabrics are and leave her to choose.”

Me: “I’ve tried that.”

Supervisor: “Well, I’ll do it, then. It’s getting late and you need to finish [assigned work] before you leave.”

(I happily leave her with the customer while I go to complete my work. I also close the doors an hour later, noticing that the supervisor is still with the customer. I finally complete my work half an hour after closing and have finalised one of our registers. I’m doing some general tidying while waiting for the supervisor and customer come to the counter with the chosen fabric. I hear the woman wondering whether her husband would like it.)

Supervisor: “I think it would be a good idea if you took a sample home for your husband to see; we don’t refund on fabrics if you change your mind.”

Customer: “No, no, he’ll like it. Now I just have to work out how much I need. You will cut it to size, won’t you?”

Supervisor: “No, sorry, we don’t. It’s company policy.”

Customer: “Oh, you can do it for me, can’t you?”

Supervisor: “Sorry, but it’s already way past our closing time and cutting to size will take too much time. We would need exact measurements, anyway; you told me that you weren’t completely sure of the window sizes.”

Customer: “I know now. My husband sent me the sizes; they’re on my phone.” *shows phone with ten different window sizes on it*

Supervisor: “No, sorry, but again, that will take too long. It’s already 45 minutes after we closed. Nor can I risk going against company policy if I cut any of the measurements wrong.”  

Customer: “Oh, well, think of the lovely overtime you both will be getting.” *looks at me and grins*

(We both look at her like deer caught in headlights.)

Supervisor: “We don’t get overtime. We get paid only to closing time, and now we still have to stay until the register is counted and finalized.”

Customer: “Oh, that can’t be right.” *looks at me*

Me: “Yes, it is.”

(The supervisor has finally measured out the fabric and is about to cut.)

Supervisor: “Now, are you sure about this measurement and fabric choice? As I mentioned, there are no returns on fabric.” 

Customer: “Yes, yes it’s fine.”

(I ring up the sale and let her know the price before any cut is made. The customer is fine with the cost and pays before finally leaving.)

Supervisor: “Oh, my God, what a time-waster. How long was she in here for?”

Me: “Four hours.”

Supervisor: “I know she’s going to try to return that fabric. It will be over my dead body.”  

(We finally complete our closing duties and leave almost an hour and a half after closing. I have the next day off, and when I get back the day after, I see a bag of fabric at the counter.)

Me: “Uh, isn’t that the fabric that annoying woman bought?”

Supervisor: “Yes. Apparently, her husband didn’t like the colour and she came back for a refund. She told [Store Manager] that I told her that she could return it if he didn’t like it. He had a go at me about it, even giving her the refund after I told him she lied. She also complained that she wasn’t told what the final cost was before it was cut.”

(This is back in the days before chip and PIN. A customer comes up to pay for her purchase with a card. I check the signature and it’s completely different, but not just different writing, a different name. I turn the card over to check the name, and it’s distinctly a man’s name, and she is an unremarkable middle-aged woman.)

Me: “This isn’t your card.”

Customer: “No, it’s my husband’s.”

Me: “Well, you can’t use it.”

(She holds up bags from half a dozen other stores and says:)

Customer: “No one else said anything.” 

(Yup, she’d spent hundreds of dollars on a card she wasn’t even pretending was hers, and no one else had noticed.)