It’s Black Friday. I’m in charge of the registers, which means solving any minor issues and answering the phone. It rings, so I pick it up.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, sweet thing, I need—”

He starts describing some sexually graphic stuff. I hang up. Store policy says that if it’s apparent it’s a prank or we start to become harassed, we can hang up. A minute later, it rings again.

Caller: “I need [another graphic description]—”

I hang up again. The coworker I’m next to is a guy with a very deep, masculine voice. When the phone rings AGAIN, I hand it to him.

Coworker: “This is [Store]. How may I— Oh, he hung up.”

It happens two more times and then he stops. I continue on with work for a bit and then go on lunch. While I’m eating, my manager comes over.

Manager: “So, I got a call that you were rude and abusive on the phone and hung up on them.”

Me: “Oh, you must mean ‘Creepy Dude’ from this morning. He’s the only one I hung up on.”

Manager: “Wait, what? He said he asked about something we sell and you cursed at him.”

I explain what happened to my manager. She then goes back to the phone.

Manager: “Sir, do not call here again. We do not tolerate sexual harassment from customers.”

She hangs up.

Manager: “I hate Black Friday.”

A customer has called us to get help with paying for their order. My coworker is helping them. The customer then has to enter their card number and security number, but they have problems finding the security number.

Coworker: “Could you please turn your card over? It should be there.”

It’s quiet for a while.

Customer: “Oh, no. Now everything is upside-down!”

My store is a big open warehouse area with a blocked off “employee only” area for getting new stock ready for this store and sister stores. There are two openings for getting from the front store area to the back stock area. One is always open wide enough for appliances; one varies depending on how full the place is.

Admittedly, the front and back are currently overloaded with appliances making it a bit of a maze, so between that and how signs sometimes get moved to get appliances back and forth, we get customers wandering into the back of the warehouse often.

Today, we have so many appliances that the second passage is almost entirely blocked off. I am startled to find a customer wandering through looking at some of the back stock.

Me: *Politely* “These aren’t ready yet.”

I show him how to get back to the front with a sympathetic remark.

Me: “Yeah, it’s hard to tell where the paths are sometimes.”

But then I see that the “opening” the guy had gone through was almost entirely blocked by fridges, maybe a foot wide! He had to turn sideways and squeeze just to get through!

I’m not sure I’ve ever had that sort of determination to continue browsing in my life!

My first experience working retail was also my last; the customers were bad but the staff were worse. There were some good people there, but they were in the minority. Most staff didn’t care about anything and wouldn’t cross the street to help you.

I was put with [Coworker] to learn the ropes. After an hour, I was sick of him. He wouldn’t train me or even talk to me; if I asked a question he would shrug or tell me to figure it out.

We were restocking shelves. [Coworker] wouldn’t let me help because I was doing it “wrong” but wouldn’t say how to do it “right”. I think I was doing it too quickly for him and he wanted to take as long as possible.

A man acting oddly walked past us both. A moment later, he knocked the stuff from [Coworker]’s hands, grabbed the charity collection from the till, and ran for it.

Not long later:

Manager: “Did anyone get a good look at him? [Coworker], he was near you.”

[Coworker] shrugged.

Manager: “What does that mean? Did you get a look or not?”

Coworker: “I don’t know, maybe. Does it matter?”

Me: “He stole from charity. Yeah, it matters.”

Coworker: “Doesn’t affect me, though, does it?!”

Me: “I got a look at the guy. I’m happy to give the details if I can swap partners.”

Manager: “I think that’s probably fair. Come to my office.”

I gave a description, and I think they caught the guy, getting most of the money back. I lasted six more months until I moved for university.

What’s worse is I found out the charity collection was for a dementia charity, something that both of [Coworker]’s grandparents struggled with.

We have a table of men’s shirts in different colors at the front of the store.

Customer: “What color is this?“

Coworker: “Red.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”