(I’m about to ring a customer up. I’m supposed to ask if they have our rewards card, and if they say no, I offer them to sign up for it, as it’s free of charge and relatively quick to do.)

Me: “Good evening, ma’am. Do you have a rewards card?”

Customer: “No. What’s the benefit of it?”

Me: “The rewards card allows you to get the sale prices of whatever’s on sale for the week, and with certain sale items and over the counter medications. You build up rewards points, which you can use to save money later on.”

Customer: “Okay. Do I need anything for it?”

Me: “All we need is some basic info, just for identification purposes. Would you like to sign up? It’s free of charge.”

Customer: *says nothing, fumbles around her purse*

Me: “Ma’am? Would you like to sign up for the card?”

(The customer takes out her credit card and swipes it, paying for the purchase.)

Me: “Okay.”

(I hand her the receipt and her bags.)

Me: “Have a good night.”

Customer: “So, do I get the rewards now?”

Me: *screaming internally*

(I am a 20-year-old female, but I guess I look younger. This occurs the first time I am buying condoms. I feel a little awkward, since it is my only item, and I’ve never bought them before.)

Cashier: *holding up the box of condoms* “Will this be all?”

Me: “Yep.”

Cashier: “I don’t think I can sell these to you.”

Me: “W-why?”

Cashier: “I think you’re too young to be having sex.”

Me: “That’s absurd! I’m 20 years old!”

Cashier: “Yeah, okay. Prove it! Let me see your driver’s license.”

(I start to go through my purse, when an old lady in line behind me speaks up towards the cashier.)

Old Lady: “Hey, you pimply a**-hole! Just let the girl buy her stuff. She’s trying to buy contraception to have safe sex instead of risking an STD or a pregnancy. Even if she was younger than 20, and I believe she is telling the truth, you should still sell them to her to prevent another teenage pregnancy! On top of it, we are on a college campus! How many young teenagers do you see around here? Most of the people who shop here are 17 or older! Just give her the d*** condoms!”

(The cashier wordlessly scans my items and bags them, and takes my cash.)

Me: “Have a nice day, jack-a**! Oh, and I’m paying for her stuff, too.”

(I am a cashier at a small town pharmacy. An older customer walks in making a jingling sound, and I see that he has bells tied to his shoelaces. It is August, and he appears anything but jolly, so I am perplexed by the bells.)

Me: “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking: why the bells?”

Customer: “My wife is going deaf, and she gets mad when I ‘sneak up on her.’ This was her solution.”

(I am eight years old. My mom and I are shopping, and we pass the drug store.)

Mom: “I need to go there.”

Me: “Mommy, no, I’m tired! I wanna go home; let’s go home!”

Mom: “No. It’ll be quick.”

(Mom pulls me into the drug store.)

Me: “Why do we have to go here? It’s a bad place!”

Mom: “Oh, really? Why do you say that.”

Me: “Yeah, it’s called a drug store, and I heard that drugs are bad! On TV!”

Mom: “Uh huh.”

Me: *to other customers* “DRUGGIES! You’re bad people! Drugs are BAD—”

(My mom hustles me out of there and never takes me back!)

(I’m currently doing inventory at the local pharmacy where I work. An older customer comes up to me with her friend, in a panic.)

Customer: “Can you help me?! I need some ‘Polysperm’!”

(I assume she means ‘Polysporin’, the topical ointment that treats infections.)

Me: “Did you mean ‘Polysporin’?”

Customer: “Oh, no! I DEFINITELY need some ‘Polysperm’!”

Me: “I’m sorry; I haven’t heard of that product. May I ask what you are using it for?”

Customer: “Oh, I scraped my elbow, and want to put that ‘Polysperm’ on it!”

Me: “Okay, let me show you where it’s stocked.”

(I point to the display of ‘Polysporin’.)

Customer: *to her friend* “Young kids these days! They don’t know anything!”