(I’ve just handed the cashier, a teenaged girl who’s sitting on the counter and reaching around to scan items, a $10 and a $2 bill for my $11.75 in items.)

Cashier #1: “I… What is this? It’s so cool! But what do I do with it? [Cashier #2], where do these go?”

(She hands the other cashier the $2 bill.)

Cashier #2: “I don’t know. Hey, [Cashier #3], are these real?”

Cashier #3: “I don’t know. What the h*** is that? I don’t think it’s real.”

Me: “…”

Cashier #1: “I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to get a manager.”

Me: “Okay…”

(15 minutes later, the five of them decided to just put the $2 bill in the drawer for ones.)

(The store I work for sells novelty items including adult toys. We’re currently taking donations for breast cancer, so once I ring in all of the items I ask everyone the same thing.)

Me: “And would you like to donate $2 to our breast cancer awareness organization? You’ll get your name up on our wall and you can even ring the cowbell if you’d like!”

Customer: “Oh, no, I’ve done a lot this year. As a matter of fact I just recently agreed to service someone for free for a $50 donation.”

Me: “… Oh, that’s nice!”

Customer: “Oh, my god! I’m a hairdresser! I meant hair services, not the other kind. Oh, my god. I’m sorry.”

Me: “Oh, that’s okay. Trust me. Working here I’ve heard way worse!”

(It’s been a slow night, and my coworker and I have been the only people in the store for over an hour. It’s five minutes until closing time.)

Coworker: “I think I’ll go lock up a few minutes early. I don’t think anyone else is coming in.”

Me: “Fine by me. I’ll get started on the register.”

(Right on cue, the door opens and a customer walks in.)

Coworker: “Oh, welcome. Is there anything we can help you find?”

Customer: “No, not right now. I’m just here to look around.”

(The customer wanders over to the trinket section. Since we’re not allowed to tell customers that we’re about to close, my coworker makes a big show about locking the door. The customer doesn’t notice.)

Me: “Hi, ma’am. Is there anything I can help you find tonight?”

Customer: *flipping through a magazine from the display* “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Me: *loudly* “[Coworker], I’m gonna go grab the vacuum so we can begin the nightly cleaning!”

Coworker: *just as loudly* “Okay! Make sure you hit some of the lights in the back too! I’m going to flip the sign on the door since it’s past eight o’clock!”

(My coworker and I continue loudly discussing our nightly duties every time we pass by the browsing woman. We keep asking her if she needs anything, and each time she waves us away. In desperation, I turn off half the lights in the store, which doesn’t phase the customer at all. Finally, we are out of nightly chores to do; the only thing remaining is to close the register, which we can’t do while the customer is in the store.)

Coworker: *loudly* “Man, I can’t wait to go home. I’m really hungry.”

Me: *loudly* “Me, too! I have homework to get started on once I get home. What time is it?”

Coworker: “8:15.”

(We drift into silence and stare at the customer as she picks up figurines off a shelf, examines them, and sets them back down. After a few minutes, the customer suddenly looks up and seems to realize that the lights are off, the store is deadly quiet, and the two employees are staring straight at her.)

Customer: “Oh, my. Are you guys closing?”

Me: *relieved* “Yes, ma’am. We closed nearly 20 minutes ago. We’re just waiting on you.”

Customer: “Oh.”

(She continues browsing for another 10 minutes. Finally, she makes her way to the front of the store.)

Coworker: *unlocking the door* “Was there anything you needed to buy, ma’am?”

Customer: “Oh, no, not tonight. I just like looking around. Good night!”

(I work in a well-known department store chain as a cashier. By law, I’m required to offer our store credit card to each and every customer that comes through my line if they’re over the age of 18.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, your total is [total]. If you don’t have our [Store] card, I can try to save you $10 or $15 on this purchase.”

Customer: *mumbles so low that I can’t hear her*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Could you please repeat that?”

Customer: “I SAID NO! GOD! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ENGLISH AT ALL? YOUR SERVICE IS HORRIBLE!”

(At this point she starts screaming her head off, and I see my manager, who is really short and stocky, running down the aisle to see what all the yelling is about.)

Customer: “I MEAN, WHY ARE YOU EVEN ASKING ME IF I WANT A CREDIT CARD? YOU SHOULD KNOW I DON’T HAVE ANY OF THEM!”

Me: “Ma’am, I have never met you before. How would I know that you don’t have any credit cards?”

Customer: “YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO CHECK YOUR THINGAMAJIG WHEN I GIVE YOU MY REWARDS CARD!”

Me: “Ma’am… those are two completely separate things.”

Customer: “NO, THEY’RE NOT! STOP F***ING LYING TO ME!”

(My manager has just gotten to my booth when the customer slaps me, hard, across my face.)

Manager: “[Customer]! Why did you just hit my cashier?!”

Customer: “HE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW I DON’T HAVE ANY CREDIT CARDS!”

Manager: “Get out of my store! This is the third time you’ve done this! Do not come back!”

Customer: “THIS IS WHY I NEVER SHOP AT [Store]! THE SERVICE IS TERRIBLE!”

Manager: *after the customer left* “Are you okay? Go on a break. I’ll cover for you.”

Me: “So… no hazard pay?”

Manager: “Ha. Good luck with that. I’ve been here 40 years and I don’t get hazard pay.”

(She did the customer satisfaction survey on the receipt that we print out and gave me the lowest possible rating, a 0, because of “terrible service” and actually WON a $1,000 gift card to the store via the sweepstakes system. Corporate was notified and they cancelled the gift card right away and gave me a $100 gift card!)

(I used to work in one of the retail stores for a major shipping company. We sold all sorts of shipping materials, but the one that most caught customers’ eyes was the 250′ roll of bubble wrap. One day this older man who seemed like he might have been high walked into the store, stared at the two rolls of bubble wrap stacked on top of one another, and then looked creepily over at my coworker and me.)

Customer: “I’ve always wondered how much bubble wrap it would take to ship a corpse.”

Me: “Well, I would guess that depends on the size of the corpse.” *nervous laughter*

Customer: *creepy smile* “I’ll let you know.”

(He left and my coworker and I were left wondering whether or not we should call the cops.)