Our store sells expensive packs of moisturiser and anti-aging cream that come in little card boxes. We’ve been finding open and empty boxes of these on the shelves for the last few weeks, which is annoying our loss prevention officer no end.

After scouring the cameras, he believes he’s identified the culprit.

One morning, I see him running up to me when I’m at the checkout. He’s pointing at a customer who has just walked into the aisles.

Loss Prevention: “Her! That’s her!”

Me: “The moisturiser thief?”

Loss Prevention: “Yeah! I’m going to keep an eye on her. If she comes through the checkout, delay her!”

He also disappears into the aisles, and I go about opening my checkout and serving customers. 

About ten minutes later, Moisturiser Thief emerges from the aisles and starts walking to the exit, bypassing the checkouts.

Me: *Calling over to her.* “Did you not find what you were looking for, ma’am?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Startled for a second at being spoken to.* “Oh, uh… no. You didn’t have it.”

Me: “Maybe you could tell me what you’re looking for? If we don’t have it in the back, I could order it for you?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Shifting closer to the exit.* “No… uh, I’m okay, thanks.”

The loss prevention officer has appeared now and is standing between her and the exit.

Loss Prevention: “Ma’am, may I please look in your bag?”

Moisturiser Thief: *Whipping around to see the exit being blocked.* “What? No! That’s my bag!”

Loss Prevention: “Ma’am, either you let me look in the bag, or you remove all the moisturiser and anti-ageing creams you’ve stashed in there.”

Moisturiser Thief: “What are you talking about?! I don’t have any of those!”

Loss Prevention: “Then prove it. Show me your bag.”

Moisturiser Thief: “No! You have no right! You need a warrant!”

Loss Prevention: “No, I don’t. That’s not a thing for bag searches.”

Moisturiser Thief: “You’re just some store employee! You can’t stop me! Get out of my way!”

Loss Prevention: “I can’t, but they can.”

Two police officers have shown up (they were called by the loss prevention officer the second the moisturiser thief walked in). He waves them over. The moisturiser thief spends a split second trying to run out of the door, but now with three guys blocking her, she accepts her fate. 

One of the officers gets access to her bag and reveals dozens of anti-ageing creams in there. Some of them are half-used from usage. As the officers escort her out, the loss prevention officer gives her a parting statement:

Loss Prevention: “At least you’ll be wrinkle-free for your mug shot!”

I’m working 2 AM on a Saturday night at the gas station. Two guys start brawling by the pumps, so I call the police, who arrive pretty darn quick (it’s that type of neighborhood). The police officers do their thing and discover that one of the brawlers is also wanted for some violent crimes and happens to be driving a stolen car, which complicates things, apparently, with more officers arriving to do whatever they need to do.

After things have calmed down, one of the officers takes a personal call inside the store. He sounds like he’s arguing with a spouse.

Officer: “No, I had to deal with a fight at a gas station.”

Arguing sound from the other end.

Officer: “You don’t get it. This guy’s a big deal. We gotta process him and—”

Louder arguing from the other end.

Officer: “—I’ll try, but I can’t promise when I’ll be home. Think of the overtime though and… hello… hello?”

He puts his phone away; the other end having hung up. He looks at me with a pained look.

Me: “Trouble at home?”

Officer: “The girlfriend is mad that I’m working late on a Saturday. Never be a police officer, dude. They make you work nights, weekends, and you never see your family.”

I slowly look around at my place of work.

Officer: “Oh… yeah. Right. Sorry.”

A couple of decades ago, I was listening in to an older coworker on the customer assistance line, learning the ropes as a fresh-out-of-high-school retail worker.

Caller: “Where the f*** is my mattress! It was supposed to be here today!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, we’re estimating a delay of two days due to the heavy snowstorm in your area.”

Caller: “I know there’s a snowstorm, d*** it! I got windows! I already went to work today, and if I can drive out in that, then so can your d**** delivery driver!”

Coworker: “You might be able to drive around your town, sir, but the highways are currently closed, so—”

Caller: “—maybe I’ll come down there with my gun, and then we’ll see how soon I get my mattress.”

My coworker pauses a moment, but looks perfectly calm.

Coworker: “I will see what I can do, sir.”

Caller: “Now that sounds more like it.”

The call ends, and I speak in a shocked tone.

Me: “How were you able to remain so calm! He just threatened you!”

Coworker: “I have a son who’s a senior officer with the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police). Guess what my next call is gonna be…”

The next day, that caller was arrested for uttering threats at his place of work.

He was a university professor fresh out of grad school, and the arresting officer was my coworker’s son, who made sure he was arrested in front of the dean of his faculty, cuffed, and did the perp walk through the campus and was made to take the long route.

He was kicked out of the University and never taught again.

I work at a GameStop in a busy mall. At the beginning of the school summer break, we begin to notice employees from other stores in the mall dropping their kids off in our shop before their shifts. Then another. Then another. Within a few days, we have four kids loitering around the store, playing on the display consoles, and generally just… being there.

They’re not being super disruptive or anything; some of them have their own Nintendo handhelds to play on, but we’re not too keen on being known as an unofficial daycare.

Assistant Manager: “If they do this again tomorrow, we’re calling the cops.”

Everyone agrees. It’s not safe, not fair on us, and not fair on the kids either. The next day comes. Two employees from two different mall stores walk in, each with a child in tow. I’m straight in there before they even get a chance to settle the kids on one of the seats in the corner.

Me: “We can’t have you leaving your kids here all day to hang out.”

Other Store Employee: “We’re not asking you to watch them or anything.”

Me: “That doesn’t matter. You can’t leave them here, and we’re not going to let you. If you leave them here, we will call the police.”

They wave us off and leave anyway. So we call.

Mall security arrives first, then the police. They talk to the kids, keep them calm, and locate the parents at their stores. Both employees are taken away, and not quietly.

Later that afternoon, one of the mothers, having secured a release somehow, storms back into our store, absolutely unhinged.

Other Store Employee: “YOU! You got me ARRESTED! Over NOTHING! OVER MY KID!”

She’s screaming so loudly that customers back away from the doorway. Mall security is already arriving because they clearly expected this.

She starts grabbing game cases off the shelf like she’s about to throw them, and security steps in immediately.

Security: “Ma’am, you need to leave. Now.”

She argues, flails, tries to knock over a display, but they escort her out of the store and out of the mall.

I worked at a suburban pizza place that was across the street from a huge bar, and it was the only party bar in that general area. We always closed for carryout at 10 PM, but delivered until 1 AM on Fridays and Saturdays.

You can imagine what those nights were like for me. We had large signs taped to the door saying when carryout closed, and signs just as big saying:

Sign: “NO – WE WILL NOT DELIVER TO YOUR CAR IN THE PARKING LOT.”

A ton of people tried arguing anyway:

Customer: “All you have to do is, “deliver” the pizza to us outside, and we’ll give you a big tip!”

Me: “I can’t do that. Sorry.”

Customer: “So you don’t like money?!”

Me: “It’s strictly forbidden for security reasons. Encouraging drunk people to loiter around eating pizza hasn’t exactly worked out well for us in the past.”

At this point, a really drunk person wanders over, wanting pizza… loudly.

Drunk Customer: “Gimme a… gimme a, peproni.”

Me: “Sir, we only deliver at this time of night.”

Drunk Customer: *Getting aggressive.* “I don’t care! Gimme a peproni, or I break the window!”

As soon as this happens, a parked and unlit police car, all the way over on the other corner of the lot, lights up and drives over. There’s almost always one right nearby since it’s their favorite spot to hunt for DUls and deal with situations like this. 

A police officer gets out of the car.

Officer: “Everything okay over here?”

Drunk Customer: “I just want pizza!”

Me: “And he threatened to damage the store if he didn’t get any.”

The officer sighs, and with the other officer getting out of the car, escorts the drunk customer away. The original group of customers is still looking on.

Customer: “Okay, I kinda get it now…”

A group of young women now amble over. We go through the same conversation of them demanding pizza and us only being able to deliver. One woman walks up to the ordering window, pulls up her top, and spreads her boobs all over the glass.

Boob Customer: “Well, how about now?”

Me: “Thanks for the show, but sorry, no.”

Boob Customer: *Covering up and storming away.* “You f****** [gay slur]!”

The original customer is still there.

Customer: “Okay, I more than kinda get it now…”