About twenty years ago, I was working at a mall store for clothing, accessories, and novelty items of a goth, punk, and indie nature. We had this kid named Frankie who would come in often. He was about eleven or twelve and was just starting to get into punk music. He and his mom would come in all the time, and they were just the best kind of customers — polite, friendly, and not a**holes like most of our clientele.

He’s been coming in for a few months, and Christmas was nearing. A coworker and I decided that we wanted to get Frankie some small gifts since he was such a cool kid. We bought a bunch of punk band patches and pins online that the store didn’t carry. We tucked the present away and waited for Frankie to come in again.

A week or so later, in walked Frankie and his mom. We pulled her to the side and let her know what we’d gotten him and gave her a chance to approve the presents. Seeing his little face light up when we gave him the stuff was just so awesome. I think he was sort of intimidated by us, as I was borderline goth and the other guy was punk all the way (huge mohawk, etc). It was nice to be able to show him and his mom that “counter-culture” people weren’t all bad.

I’m a female in my mid-twenties working in retail, which means that, very often, sometimes more than once per day, an old and creepy male customer will ask me:

Customer: “So, what time do you get off? Can I get you a coffee?”

I always try to let them down politely.

Me: “Uh, I finish quite late, but I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Of course, hinteth never getteth:

Customer: “Oh, I don’t mind waiting. You look like you’re worth the wait.” *Stares creepily*

So now, I just jokingly say:

Me: “Oh, actually, I live here. I never get off shift.”

This usually does the trick (i.e., I am never having a coffee with you), but for those who seriously do not get it and press further…

Customer: “Oh, come on now. I’m being serious.”

Me: *Also being serious, suddenly lowering my voice* “No… seriously… My boss is doing me a favor. Rent is insane. I sleep in the back. Please don’t tell anyone!”

Customer: “Are… are you joking?”

Then, I suddenly perk back up and make my “customer service smile” even more sinister than usual.

Me: “What? Joking about what?! Haha, no jokes allowed here! We’d get in trouble, haha! Would you like your receipt?!” *Eyes widen*

Crazy usually scares the last of them off.

Customer: “No! That perfume is 50% off!”

Me: “No, ma’am, this brand is not on sale.”

Customer: “Your adverts said everything is 50% off!”

Me: “No, ma’am, we have a sale section at the front of the store, and all those perfumes are 50% off. Everything else is the regular price!”

Customer: “That’s false advertising! Your adverts said everything in the store is 50% off!”

Me: “Can you please show me the advert that says that? If you can find one that does, I’ll honour that discount for this purchase.”

Customer: *Starts looking around* “Look! That sign there says… Well… But the sign on the front is… Okay, maybe the wording is… Look. I know I saw one! I think it was on your website! Whoever is putting adverts up on your website is making a mistake!”

I pull up the website on my phone.

Me: “You mean this site? The sale banner says, ‘50% off select items in store’.”

Customer: “You changed that just now!”

Me: “I’ve been talking to you this whole time, ma’am.”

Customer: “Give me 50% off! I’ll find the advert that said it later!”

Me: “I can give you the discount after the sale, ma’am, if you can find that advert, but I can’t wait for you to find it here. Please either purchase at full price now, or come back later with the advert.”

Customer: “I’m not moving until you give me the sale price!”

Me: “You’re holding up the line.”

Customer: “Deal with it!”

Me: “Ma’am, would you rather deal with me, or deal with the increasing number of people you’re holding up?”

She looks back and seems surprised to notice five angry-looking customers in line behind her getting increasingly impatient.

Me: “Mind you, they can walk out with you.”

She left quickly after that.

Related:
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 25
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 24
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 23
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 22
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 21

Back in the early 2000s, I am finishing a long and terrible shift at a huge big box retail store. This story is pieced together from a few memories, but the gist of it remains the same. I’m in the break room at the back, and a coworker has noticed my mood.

Coworker #1: “Rough shift?”

Me: “Some brats were throwing jars of baby food at the wall just to watch them break and splatter. The mom just laughed and told me that it’s my job to clean it up.”

Coworker #1: “Ugh, I got it worse. I got one kid — must have been twelve, so definitely old enough to know better — who decided to pee on the carpet in the clothing department. He was laughing as he did it; that little s*** knew what he was doing.”

Coworker #2: *Joining in* “Wait, was that kid in a white tank top, and the mom had huge blonde hair in a terrible perm?”

Me: “Uh… yeah, I think so, plus a younger brother.”

Coworker #1: “Yeah, that’s mine, too! D***, they were the same family?”

Coworker #2: “Yeah, I could tell. They were also walking around the store eating rotisserie chicken and drinking sodas they hadn’t paid for, and they told me to f*** myself when I told them they had to pay for it.”

Coworker #1: “How have these people not been kicked out? We reported them to our managers, right?”

As we say this, another exhausted-looking coworker comes into the break room.

Coworker #3: “Did you guys not hear the screaming coming from the checkouts a while ago? Some woman was being dragged out by the police while her two sons were watching. Apparently, she was using her kids as distractions while she was stealing some stuff.”

Coworker #2: “Blonde hair, huge perm?”

Coworker #3: “Yeah! How did you know?”

All Of Us: “Just a hunch.”

Related:
The Truly Awful Stand Out

I work in a high-end cosmetics store.

Customer: “I need to replace this; it just stopped working.”

She hands over a very expensive deodorant sold by a specialty company. My manager can’t tell if it’s defective or not, but we’re quite busy, so she just lets her walk out with a new one, and we think nothing more of it.

A couple of weeks later when we’re quieter, I notice that she’s back.

Customer: “I need to replace this; it just stopped working.”

I swear it is the exact same wording.

Me: “Oh, that’s strange. Is this the replacement we gave you for the one that stopped working last time?”

Customer: *Shocked that I remembered* “Oh… uh… maybe? I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, let me have a look-see. You seem to just be having the worst luck with this brand!”

I open it up to find that it’s been completely used up and is empty.

Me: “Oh, well, there you go! It’s not defective; it’s just been used up!”

Customer: “Oh… already? That went by kinda fast.”

Me: “Well, it’s a four-ounce tube, so it’s a standard size. Either way, I am soooo glad I have been able to figure out this mystery for you. Now you don’t have to come in claiming it’s defective every time it runs out!”

Customer: “Uh… yeah… uh… Thanks.” *Slinks out*