I used to work as a pick-up clerk at a nearby [Supermarket Chain], but I stopped working there about a year ago. But because of my job, I basically have the entire store memorized and can quickly point out what row something should be in if asked. That, plus the fact that I sometimes chat with my old coworkers, could make someone assume I still worked there.

I was there yesterday, looking for ingredients I was missing for dinner. But while I was looking, someone walked up to me. She was about the same age as me and had the same vibe of “I need to find something, but I’m too anxious to just ask an employee” around her that I usually have. She got my attention.

Woman #1: *Politely* “Can you tell me where to find [item #1]?”

I pointed it out to her, she thanked me and went on her way, and I went back to looking for my ingredients.

About a minute later, someone else came up to me and got my attention. But before I could even say, “Yes?”, she started talking.

Woman #2: “I need to get [item #2].”

Me: “Oh, that’s in aisle [number]!”

Woman #2: “I already checked there, and they were all out.”

Me: “Oh… Well, sorry about that. Maybe they’ll have some more later.”

I then turned to go back to my shopping.

Woman #2: “Can’t you just go to the back and check?”

Of course, I was pretty confused at that and turned to look at her.

Me: “Uh… no? I don’t work here.”

She immediately started to get annoyed.

Woman #2: “Yes, you do! I’ve seen you around here before! And you just finished helping that other girl!”

Me: “Well, I used to work here, so I know where stuff is. But I quit like a year ago.”

Woman #2: “Don’t give me that! Why else would you be here all of the time?!”

Me: “Because I shop here.”

She started to look genuinely pissed when I said that for some reason, and I decided then was a perfect time to leave and avoid getting yelled at. I continued getting what I needed, constantly checking over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed and probably looking incredibly suspicious. I finally got everything I needed and made a beeline toward the self-checkout area.

The self-checkout space is directly across from the customer service area, where you can look up and look directly at the self-checkout. I say that because when I finished bagging my stuff, I looked up to see [Woman #2] talking to my old manager at the customer service desk.

I should also note that my old manager is a large chunk of why I decided to quit. She was/is a controlling a**hole who constantly breathes down other people’s throats instead of doing any actual work. Surprisingly, she was doing her job for once and nodded along while [Woman #2] angrily ranted at her. I decided to ignore the two and started to head toward the exit, but of course, that was the exact moment that [Woman #2] decided to look over and spot me trying to leave. She pointed at me and yelled:

Woman #2: “HER! THAT GIRL RIGHT THERE!”

Of course, everyone stopped and started to stare at me, which would have made just leaving a lot more awkward, so I stopped in my tracks. My old manager leaned over the counter to look at me, made a confused face, and then turned to the lady.

Manager: “Sorry, ma’am, but she doesn’t work here anymore.”

Apparently, being proven wrong by the manager was [Woman #2]’s tipping point, because she suddenly started to scream at my old manager.

Woman #2: “YOU’RE THE MANAGER! SHE’S AN EMPLOYEE! TELL HER TO HELP ME NOW!“

Surprisingly, my old manager gathered up the gall to actually turn to me again at that.

Manager: “[My Name], do you mind helping her?”

I was genuinely shocked at her question. I knew she would do anything for a customer at her employees’ expense, but I didn’t think it would extend to people that didn’t even work for her.

Me: “Are you going to pay me?”

Manager: “No, but—”

Me: “Then yes, I do mind. See ya.”

And before either of them could say anything, I speed-walked out of the store. I heard [Woman #2] start yelling again, but I couldn’t properly catch what she was saying before I fully exited the store and headed toward my car.

I’m just still reeling at both how furious that lady got and the gall of my old manager to attempt to order me around after I haven’t worked for her in literally a year. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

I work part-time as a barista at a coffee shop. Today at work, a woman ordered an iced coffee. I heard her tell the cashier that she wanted an iced coffee, and the cashier entered an iced coffee into the register. I don’t think there was a language barrier because the customer spoke English fluently.

When the customer received her iced coffee, she complained to the manager.

Customer: “Why is my iced coffee cold, and why does it have ice? When I ordered the iced coffee, I expected to receive a hot coffee with no ice. Can you remake it?”

She ordered “Vietnamese-styled iced coffee” from the “cold drinks” section of the menu. The drink has ice and has zero warm liquid in our shop, and the menu states how it’s prepared.

I don’t understand how these people function in society. I wonder what she thought an “iced coffee” was. The coffee shop offers plenty of hot drinks if she just wanted to order one of those.

Whilst in University, I am working in a popular supermarket chain as a team leader. I work evenings, so this means that I am essentially in charge of the checkouts as there are no managers in. I wear a headset, and if the cashiers need assistance, they buzz me and I go help. It doesn’t say what help is needed on the headset, just which number checkout.

One night, I am in the middle of the store putting away some abandoned items. My headset tells me checkout four needs help. I’m on it.

As I am walking over, checkout eight also buzzes in. Fine, I will go there next. It takes a good couple of minutes before I get to checkout four. Some discounted items aren’t going through and I need to authorise something. It takes about three minutes to put through all the items that the customer wants, and then I make my way over to checkout eight.

As I approach, I can hear this guy causing a scene. He is moaning about how long I am taking and how incompetent we clearly are. As I get closer, I see this middle-aged man with his arms in the air in a “Come on!” gesture.

Customer: *To the cashier* “I’ve been on my feet all day, and all I f****** want is another box of eggs!”

Me: *Super polite* “How can I help?”

He turns with the biggest frown and I fully expect him to rip me a new one, but alas… he suddenly looks sheepish, and his body visibly shrinks in with shame. You see, I am eight months pregnant at the time and as big as a house.

Cashier: “The eggs the man chose are broken and he needs a new box.”

Customer: *Immediately* “Oh… um… I can go get them?”

There isn’t even a queue behind him; he could have gotten them at any point.

Me: “No, that’s okay, sir. You’ve been on your feet all day. Let me get your eggs.”

I waddled away and took my time.

I work in a hotel. I had a guy check in yesterday afternoon — a very normal, uneventful check-in. This morning, he comes down to the desk in a tizzy about the deposit. He’d tried to check out with the night auditor this morning and was very unhappy to learn that the deposit on his card wouldn’t be refunded instantaneously. What’s more, he insisted I’d told him it would.

Guest: “You stood there and you told me that the deposit would be refunded immediately. So when I check out, you’re going to go up and check my room and give me my money back.”

Me: “That’s not accurate, sir, so I can’t imagine I would have said that. After you check out, housekeeping will check the room. Then, on our end, we will refund the deposit, and then your bank processes the refund.”

For whatever reason, our deposit acts like a charge instead of an authorization.

Guest: “And that happens immediately?”

Me: “I’m not sure how long it will take your bank to process it, sir.”

Guest: “That was my last $50 to live on, so you’re going to give me my money back when I leave.”

Me: “There’s no way for me to do that, sir. I have no control over how long it takes your bank to process refunds.”

Guest: “You told me it would be immediate.”

Me: “I do not recall that, sir, and considering that’s not how refunds work, I can’t imagine I would have said that. But I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

Guest: “It’s not a misunderstanding! You told me that! That’s my last $50! And you’re going to give it back to me!”

Me: “Yes, sir, assuming everything is good after checkout on our end, we will process the refund. Then, it’s on your bank.”

Guest: “I want it back today.”

Me: “I have no control over that, sir.”

Guest: “This is bulls***. I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “I’m the manager on duty.”

Guest: “Then I want to talk to the owner.”

Me: “He is on vacation.”

Guest: “How am I getting my money back?”

Me: “After you check out and housekeeping checks the room, we process the refund on our end. Then, it’s up to your bank.”

Guest: “You should have told me that at check-in.”

Me: “I don’t recall our conversation at check-in, sir, so I do apologize for the misunderstanding.”

Guest: “I wouldn’t have stayed here if I’d known the money wouldn’t come right back.”

Me: “Okay.”

Guest: “You misled me.”

Me: “I don’t believe I did.”

He whines some more and demands the deposit back some more, and I repeat myself some more because at this point there is really nothing else to say. After he finally leaves, I turn to my trusty sidekick, Security Camera. I pull up the video from when he checked in to figure out what I might have said that he is trying to twist on me.

Lo and behold, the dude never once asked about when the deposit would be refunded. He asked if the deposit had to be on his card, and I said yes. That was the entirety of our conversation about it. The deposit being back on his card was apparently such a big deal to him, but he made no mention of it to me. And now he’s lying about it.

He is back at the desk an hour later.

Guest: “So, the deposit will be back on my card today?”

Me: “I’m not sure how long it will take your bank to process it, sir.”

Guest: “You told me—”

Me: “No, I didn’t. You see that camera? It records everything I say and do. I told you there’s a $50 deposit on your card, you asked if it has to be on the card, and I said yes. That was the extent of the conversation about the deposit. You didn’t ask about how long it would take to get the deposit back on your card, so I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t know that it was important to you. Usually, people ask when that’s the case.”

He grumbled and then stomped off, defeated.

A man walks into my hotel lobby at about 2:00 am.

Guest: “Please tell me you have a room. I just need one bed to sleep. I got a flat tire driving from [City] and literally came into the parking lot on metal!”

As we’re right off the highway, we get a lot of these. No problem; I have a few rooms left to sell.

Me: “Oh, man, that sounds horrible! I have a few rooms left; however, they are double queen rooms. The rate is $159 plus tax.”

Guest: *Pauses* “Oh, dang. You don’t have anything cheaper than that?”

I sort of feel for the dude because I just came in tonight and found that [Hotel Chain] decided it wanted to have four tiers of pricing instead of three, so the queen rooms are no longer the same price as the king rooms.

Me: “Unfortunately, no. I can give you a AAA discount which will save you 10%. I will need to see your ID.”

The guy looks in his pockets.

Guest: “Hold on, I left it in my car.”

He comes back with no ID.

Guest: “So, how badly do you need my ID?”

Me: “Pretty bad, since you can’t rent a room without one.”

Guest: “I have money! I can pay for the room! I just need somewhere to sleep until I can get this tire fixed. I left my ID in [City] and I’m driving to [Town].”

Who travels that many miles without a driver’s license that isn’t up to no good? Sorry, but I’m judgy. I instantly feel like he’s up to something.

Me: “That’s all well and good, but I have no idea who you are and no way to know who you really are, and I can’t rent a room to some rando.”

Guest: “Aw, man, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

I looked up a twenty-four-hour tire fix company and gave him the number. Thankfully, he left the lobby, so hopefully, they came and got him out of my parking lot. I didn’t see him when I left.

I really don’t think he had a flat. But the point is if you don’t have an ID, you don’t get a room.