I worked in a store that sold computers, and the current sale we had going was that if you bought certain computers, you would get one of those ‘cheap’ Android tablets (worth $99, but the cost price was $25) for free.

A customer walks into the store, and I recognise her as someone I sold a computer to in the last few days with the tablet deal.

Customer: “I got this tablet a few days ago, and I don’t need it. I would like to return it.”

Me: “Sure, can I see the receipt?”

The customer hands over a receipt, which shows the tablet zeroed out (usually a bold line on the receipt with a [B] at the end).

Me: “You got this tablet under the deal we had a few days ago, so you got this for free. I can take it back, but you would be better off selling this on Facebook or something.”

Customer: “No, it was $99, so I’d like that back.”

I spend about ten minutes trying to explain that’s not how it works, until the manager comes over and (not politely) states the situation and tells her to f*** off.

I work in a home goods and furniture store. A customer walks in holding a shredded decorative pillow, one of those faux velvet ones with tassels and gold trim. It looks like it went three rounds with a wild animal.

Customer: “I need to return this. It fell apart.”

Me: “…It fell apart?”

Customer: “Yes. I bought it two days ago, and it’s already ruined. That’s poor quality.”

Me: “There are bite marks. Was this… near a pet?”

Customer: “My dog may have mouthed it a little, but it should’ve held up better than this.”

Me: “This isn’t a pet toy. It’s a decorative pillow.”

Customer: “Still. You should stand by your products.”

Me: *With a professional smile.* “We do. Just not when they’ve been used as a chew toy.”

Customer: “Well, you should know that your products are going to homes where pets live!”

Me: “We assume pets live in homes, not rule them.”

A woman walks up to me holding a dead houseplant in a plastic shopping bag. The leaves are shriveled, and the soil is dry.

Customer: “I need to replace this. It just died out of nowhere.”

Me: “Okay. Do you know what kind of plant it was?”

Customer: “A very green one.”

Me: “Alright. Did it have flowers?”

Customer: “Maybe. At some point?”

Me: “Was it in direct sunlight?”

Customer: “It was on top of the fridge.”

Me: “How often did you water it?”

Customer: “Whenever I remembered. Sometimes once a week, sometimes… not for a while.”

She holds up the bag. I glance at the plant corpse inside.

Customer: “I was told this was a minimal maintenance plant, but I just think maybe it was defective?”

Me: “If that plant was defective, it was only in its optimism.”

It’s the week after a big holiday sale. The returns line is long, patience is short, and I’m doing my best to stay zen behind the counter. A man stomps up, holding a clearly opened box for a Bluetooth speaker. The seal’s broken, and the barcode’s been scribbled over in marker for some reason.

Customer: “I want to return this. It’s junk.”

Me: “Okay, do you have the receipt?”

Customer: “No, but I paid cash last week. Just give me a refund.”

Me: “Unfortunately, I need the receipt for cash refunds. Otherwise, I can offer store credit at the current sale price.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous. I paid full price!”

Me: “I get that, but without a receipt, I have to go by current value.”

Customer: *Now full volume.* “I spend a lot of money here. A lot. You should be making exceptions for loyal customers!”

Me: “Thanks! We used it to laminate the return policy.”

A guy bought a thermometer. It didn’t work, so he brought it back.

Me: “Neither my coworker nor I can do a no-receipt return, but if you wait thirty minutes, our other coworker will be back from break, and he can do it.”

Customer: “You didn’t give me a receipt!”

Me: “I’m sure I did, sir.”

Customer: “You’re a liar!”

A minute into his rant about me being a lying b**** who didn’t want to give him his money back, in came his wife, waving the receipt in the air.

Customer’s Wife: “Dave, you forgot the receipt! They need it to do a return!”

The wife came back in later to apologize for his behavior. Apparently, being sixty-five and having an “off day” is an excuse to be a d**k to cashiers. My manager told her that if he behaves like that again, he’ll be banned from the store.