I’m working at the register one evening when a woman comes in and goes to look at the dog toys. I don’t think much of her, beyond saying hello, as I have a line of customers to ring out.

A few minutes later, she comes out of the aisle asking for help. One of my coworkers goes over to help, and again, I don’t think much of what’s going on, continuing to ring customers through.

Out of nowhere, she storms up to my register and tosses a toy on the counter. I miss most of what she says, but she’s definitely angry, and about every other word is an expletive.

Me: *Confused* “What?”

This seems to set her off again, and she starts ranting, again spouting expletives.

Customer: “Why you would have a f****** employee that doesn’t f****** know the f****** store?!”

My coworker steps back in.

Coworker: “Why are you cursing?”

I’m still thoroughly confused at this point, and I turn back to the customers I was helping when she came up. I’m trying to listen in on the conversation but miss most of it as I talk to the people in front of me.

She finally storms outside, still hurling expletives, and I turn to my coworker as he walks over to me:

Coworker: “She’s been in before and is blacklisted, as she and a man she’s usually with are known scammers. I fully expect her partner to come in soon after to try and continue the scam.”

Once he mentions this, I remember the last time I saw her. She and her partner had brought in several dog toys and a couple of aquarium decorations. I didn’t think much of it until the man said he’d bought ALL of the items for his dog. I was instantly suspicious, as the items were all unused, and there was no receipt.

I started the return, mainly to keep things from escalating too quickly, and since he didn’t have a receipt, I asked for his ID. He handed me a driver’s license with a hole punched in it. After I refused it, he showed me his temporary ID, printed from his computer. My manager was involved by then and explained that we could only accept a permanent state-issued ID.

He argued, going back and forth with my manager about how he thought the temporary ID should count. Eventually, he went out and sent the woman in since she had a valid ID. The manager saw, came over, and explained that she wouldn’t allow the return without a receipt, so they had to go back to the store they “bought” the items from so that store could look up the receipt and make the return.

The woman instantly turned hostile, hurling insults at my manager, demanding to see her boss — who wasn’t there at the time — then hurling even more insults when my manager told her when the boss would be in.

I’m hoping I’ll actually recognize her or her partner when they come in next, but I have a pretty lousy memory for faces, especially when I see hundreds every day. But you can guarantee they’ll bring back more stolen merchandise to “return,” since mine seems to be their favorite store.

I am running the register on a very slow day when a customer approaches with two baskets of three-ounce cans of cat food. She dumps both baskets on the conveyor belt.

Me: “Hi there. Do you have a [Store] membership?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Would you like to sign up? It’s free and—”

Customer: “No!”

She rolls her eyes.

Me: “Okay.”

I look at the cans on the conveyor belt.

Me: “Are these organized in any particular way? I can enter them in groups if—”

Customer: “No! Jesus f****** Christ, just check me out!”

Me: “Okay, then.”

I only get through a few cans before the woman slams her hand down on the scanner.

Customer: “Stop! These are supposed to be forty-six cents each! Why are they coming up at fifty-one cents?”

Me: “Oh. Let me see what’s going on.”

I think I know what the problem is, but I decide to do a price inquiry anyway just so that the customer can see why the cans aren’t ringing up as she thinks they should. The reduced price is a membership perk.

Me: “The cans are forty-six cents with our free membership; otherwise, they’re fifty-one cents. I can still enroll you if you’d like the membership price.”

Customer: “I am not signing up for your stupid program.”

Me: “Okay.”

I continue scanning. The customer starts slapping the card reader with her checkbook.

Customer: “Stop! Stop, stop, stop!”

I stop and take a breath before speaking.

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “I just told you those cans were forty-six cents!”

Me: “With the—”

Customer: “Fix it!”

Me: “They are forty-six cents with the membership you’ve declined twice.”

Customer: “Why do I have to be a member to get the cheaper price? This is stealing!”

Me: “You must be a member to get the membership price.”

Customer: “Can’t you just pretend I have the membership? This is ridiculous!”

Me: *With thinly-veiled annoyance* “That would be fraud. These cans are fifty-one cents each unless you sign up. Do you want them or should I cancel the purchase?”

Customer: “Fine!”

I continue scanning the cans, ignoring her stream of complaints. Finally, all the cans — about a hundred — are scanned in.

Me: “Okay. Your total is $51.”

Customer: “I did the math while you were robbing me blind. It should be $46 because the cans are forty-six cents.”

I just say nothing.

Customer: “Well?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “Aren’t you going to offer me some kind of compensation for wasting my time?”

Me: “Such as?”

Customer: “Such as giving me the cans for the right price!”

Me: “They are the right price.”

Customer: “Well, you took too long scanning them all!”

Me: “If they were organized, I could have entered them by the UPC, but they weren’t.”

Customer: “Isn’t that your job?”

Me: “My job is to make sure no product leaves this store without being scanned and paid for.”

Customer: “You’ve just lost a customer. I hope you’re happy.”

Me: *Politely smiling* “Will that be cash or card?”

Customer: *Glaring at me* “Card.”

The payment went through and her mile-long receipt was printed.

Me: “All right. You have a nice day, ma’am.”

Customer: “Burn in Hell.” *Storms out*

Related:
Not A Member And Maybe That’s A Good Thing

A woman has come in wanting something to ward off the creepy crawlies on her dog. We talk about what kind of creepy crawlies they are, and it transpires they are mites.

Me: “It definitely sounds like mites. This particular substance should help against them.” 

Customer: “I just see them flying and buzzing around my dog all the time.”

Me: “Mites don’t fly. They’re too heavy to fly, and they don’t have wings. Are you sure these aren’t fleas?”

Customer: “No, it’s mites. They definitely do fly around my dog.”

Me: “As I just explained, mites can’t fly.”

Customer: “Well, it’s just the forest life, isn’t it?”

Sadly, explaining to the customer that physics doesn’t work like that would’ve been considered somewhat rude.

A customer brings back in a cat scratcher that is completely destroyed.

Customer: “I would like to return this, please.”

Me: “Ah, did it come that way? Do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “No, I don’t. My cat tore this all up; I’d like another one.”

Me: “Was it defective in any way?”

Customer: “Well, my cat tore it up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not able to return this.”

Customer: “But it didn’t work. Look at it!”

Me: “But it’s a cat scratcher. It seems as though the product worked as intended.”

A coworker of mine is cleaning the reptile habitats in the store. He notices one of the chameleons is starting to get a little big for its habitat, but there’s not much we can do to make it more comfortable as it grows.

Instead, he decides to give it a chance to stretch its legs a little, taking it out of the terrarium and letting it climb around his shirt as he goes about his duties.

I’m on the register and don’t usually get to interact with the animals, so I ask if I can hold it for a while. He brings it over and I let it climb onto my hand.

As I’m letting it crawl along my arms and hands, a woman comes up to check out. I manage to get a hand free to ring her items up, and the chameleon starts climbing across my chest.

I make a comment to my coworker about how the chameleon’s enjoying being able to explore a little, and the woman laughs.

Customer: “He’s thinking, ‘Look at these mountains’!”

We all started laughing. I tried to keep from shaking too much, as the chameleon was, indeed, on my breasts.

The chameleon continued to crawl all over me, and at one point, I needed to transfer it from one hand to the other again, but this time it decides it was perfectly comfortable half on one hand, half on the other.

It had a pretty good grip on both hands, and I didn’t want to risk pulling away too hard, lest I injure it, so I wound up sitting for a minute with no hands, and we all started laughing again.

Eventually, it decided which hand it wanted to be on, and I passed it back to my coworker so I could finish ringing the woman up. Definitely one of the most memorable encounters I’ve had at this job.

Related:
The Epic Saga Of Sir Reginald Von Rufflebuttum