Masks are required for customers in our store. I have a compromised immune system as well as asthma. If a person comes through my line without a mask, I offer them one, and if they still refuse, I politely tell them that I am unable to ring them up. Most just take a mask or leave, but there are a few who throw temper tantrums.

There is a coworker who goes out of her way to insult and emotionally hurt people, but I just ignore her usually.

Coworker: “Hey, is it true that you’re refusing to ring up people without a mask on?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Coworker: “You can’t do that! You’ll get fired!”

Me: “No, you are allowed to refuse customer service to someone if you feel threatened. We’re in the middle of a health crisis, I have pretty much no immune system, and I have asthma. If you refuse to wear a mask, then I am being threatened.”

Coworker: “Well, they’re writing horrible things about you on the [Next Town] Facebook page and the city’s home page!”

Me: “So?”

Coworker: “But… they’re writing bad things about you on—”

Me: “I don’t care. I don’t live in that town, for one. And two, if they are the type to write about me for following the mandate, so what? They boycott the store. Then I won’t have to worry about them coming back in and getting me sick.”

She was very annoyed that I wouldn’t get angry over the fact that people supposedly were writing bad things about me online. Things no other person was able to find.

I am working at home while trying to manage my young children during the health crisis. I hear the doorbell ring and look through the peephole to see a salesman who has ignored the “No Soliciting” sign as well as our local Stay At Home orders. He sees movement and begins to knock as well as ring the doorbell. I sigh and begin to look for a mask when my three-year-old, already masked, opens the door by himself.

Three-Year-Old: “Are you Amazon?”

Salesman: “No.”

My three-year-old slammed the door, and the salesman walked away!

I used to handle purses and shoes at my local thrift store, and among the various passes and fails of quality check, I’ve found a few gems and a few absolute nightmares.

The worst nightmare purse on record was a beautiful, beaded, white clutch that looked perfect… until I looked inside.

Someone had decided to shove their bloody, used tampon inside at some point, staining the entire inside bottom with menstrual blood.

Then, in a stroke of genius, the person had then splashed some sort of chemical inside the purse. The splash pattern of the poured chemical was clearly visible, and the insides were a creepy patchwork of rusty red and a deep shamrock green!

I was very grateful that I did those inspections with gloves on! It went into the garbage bag immediately.

Related:
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 26
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 25
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 24
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 23
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 22

I work for a thrift store that donates its proceeds to a local animal rescue group. It is named “[Animal Rescue Group] Thrift Store” on the building and on its signs. There is no way to make this a subtle fact.

I am on the registers with [New Coworker], who ends up getting an old lady.

Old Lady: *Rudely* “What, exactly, does my money benefit?”

I’m listening in, in case I have to save [New Coworker], but she handles it fine.

New Coworker: “Oh, almost all of our profits go toward [Animal Rescue Group] to help homeless and lost animals!”

Old Lady: “Well, I don’t care about helping the animals. I want my money to go toward helping people!”

New Coworker: *A little awkwardly* “Well, ma’am, that sounds like a good place for your money to go toward, as well, but our store is for [Animal Rescue Group]. Do you still want your items?”

Old Lady: “Where else can I spend my money so it goes toward people?”

New Coworker: “…”

Me: “Ma’am, there’s [Other Thrift Store] literally a block down the road.”

Old Lady: “I’ve already been there! They didn’t have what I needed!”

Me: “Or you can go to [Teen- And Family-Oriented Thrift Store] about a mile down the road.”

Old Lady: “I want these items, but I want you to take the proceeds to them, then!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s not how it works. If you buy the items at our thrift store, your money goes to our charity. If you want to donate to another store, you need to spend your money in their store.”

Old Lady: *Angrily* “Well, that’s just ridiculous! It’s my money! It should go toward a charity I want it to go to!”

I mean… you’re standing in a building that states that it’s affiliated with an animal rescue. Funds going toward animal rescues is kind of the whole point of shopping here. How in the world does a person walk in and demand that their purchase of [Store #1]’s products be sent to [Store #2]’s profits?!

Me: *Coldly* “No, ma’am, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any store works, not just our thrift shop!”

Old Lady: “Fine, take my money and use it on your filthy animals! I won’t shop here again!”

She storms out.

New Coworker: “Am I losing my mind? Did that really just happen?”

We are told to never, ever interrupt the callers.

Me: “How can I help you?”

Caller: “I was told that I would get a credit when I called back with the replacement phone. Now they’re saying I don’t get it? THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I WAS PROMISED A CREDIT!”

This ranting continues for several more minutes.

Me: “Yes, I see the credit and will be giving it to you.”

Caller: *Pauses* “Oh.”