(I’ve been working for quite a while, so my voice is scratchy. Near the end of my shift, an old man comes to the counter.)
Customer: “Hm. You’re losing your voice there, eh?”
Me: “Haha. A little bit, I suppose.”
Customer: “Well, that’s the end of the world for a woman.”
Me: “Ha ha…” *confused as to where he’s going with this*
Customer: “HAHAHA, YOU CAN’T YELL AT ME!” *does a victory dance*
(I ring up a customer, who pays with debit. Shortly after I give him the debit machine to go through the prompts.)
Customer: “Oh, it seems to have cancelled the transaction.”
Me: “No problem. We’ll just start over.”
(I swipe his card again and hand him the machine.)
Customer: “See, here’s where I went wrong.”
(He shows me the screen. It says ‘Purchase: 8.50$ OK?’ Underneath, the left button is indicated as ‘OK’, and the right as ‘CAN’ for ‘cancel’.)
Me: “So, did you press OK to approve the transaction?”
Customer: “I thought CAN meant Canada!”
(I am working in the produce section where we sell very thick and very red cranberry juice. As I am placing some on the shelves, I drop one, which spills on the ground. To prevent it from leaking all over the place, I quickly carry it to the customer bathroom close by to empty the rest in the toilet, leaving a long trail of red liquid.)
Customer: “Excuse me!”
Me: “Yes, ma’am, how may I help you?”
Customer: “Someone’s had their period in the bathroom!”
Me: “Oh, no, ma’am. I just dropped cranberry juice on the floor.”
Customer: “Well, then, can I get a discount for the nausea?”
(I often help out with going up and down the aisles with the collection basket. A patron puts a twenty in the basket and then stops me.)
Me: “I have to get this up to the front, ma’am.”
Customer: “Yes, yes. Just one moment.”
(She is rooting around in the collection basket while I stand there.)
Me: “Sorry, what are you doing?”
Customer: “I need change for the bus.”
Me: “Can I help you with something?”
Customer: “Yeah. I have a guy painting a room in my house, but I told him I don’t like it.”
Me: “If you’d like another color, I can help you pick a new one.”
Customer: “That’d be great. I have to cover up this color. It’s the most horrible, disgusting color I’ve ever seen. It looks like… it looks like…”
(The customer looks up at me, and points.)
Customer: “It looks like your shirt.”
(I am speechless.)
Customer: “Yeah, ugly like your shirt. Oh, sorry! It’s a nice shirt, I guess.”
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