My shop has an unexpected customer surge, and our paper bills for change run out. Then, a customer comes in and pays with a 1000-peso bill for a 600-peso item.

Me: “Do you have a smaller bill?”

Customer: *Sneering* “The customer shouldn’t have to fix the cashier’s problems.”

Me: “If you have a 100-peso bill, I can give you a 500-peso bill.”

He gets furious and screams at me.

Customer: “I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: *With a smile* “I’m the manager.”

Customer: “No! I refuse to believe that. You’re too young to be a manager!”

I’m twenty-four, but I look much younger than my actual age because of, well, my Asian genes. Even after my employees confirm I’m the manager, he’s still really doubtful.

Customer: “Human resources probably made a huge mistake when they hired you.”

I’m really offended at his remark, but I maintained my calm demeanor while silently planning for my petty revenge.

I reached under the register and grabbed a bag that contained packs of coins, with each pack containing 100 1-peso coins. I grabbed four packs and gave them to him. He was so horrified because that s*** is heavy. He began verbally assaulting me until the customers behind him got furious and asked him to leave already.

He was still throwing a fit while the customer after him and I laughed at his meltdown.

Working as a store manager is not the best job ever, but petty revenge such as this gives me some short-term entertainment.

I work at a large retail store chain. A regular customer comes in.

Customer: “You guys always help me with what I need!”

Me: “We try!”

Customer: “I know, and I thank you for that. But I need you to watch my kid while I shop at [Rival Store].”

Me: “Um, no, sorry, that’s not something we can do.”

Customer: “Oh, is it because I’m not shopping here today?”

Me: “No, even if you were shopping here today, we still couldn’t watch your son for you.”

Customer: *Turning red* “I need a babysitter while I shop, and my last one just quit on me!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, but we could get in trouble because we aren’t a licensed daycare. You have to take him with you.”

Customer: “I don’t care! I’m leaving him here. I’ll only be gone for two hours at the most. Just watch him and feed him if you need to! He likes breast milk, and it looks like you have plenty. Now, goodbye!”

She stormed off. I called my manager and told her the situation. She didn’t believe me at first, but I told her to go watch the cameras. She did, and when she came back, she was on the phone with the police. Meanwhile, the kid was starting to realize that his mom had just left him, and he was starting to get upset. We called over a couple of employees to watch him until the police arrived.

They arrived quickly, and they watched the cameras, too. I told them the regular customer’s name and where she told me she’d be, along with the name of his father, who is also a regular. They managed to reach him on his cell phone and tell him the situation. He came to pick the child up, and I later learned the mother was arrested for abandonment and child endangerment. She’s been banned from our store, but we sometimes go to the same gas station, and she gives me the finger every time!

Related:
Ah, Parents, Part 3
Ah, Parents, Part 2
Ah, Parents

I volunteer at a charity shop on weekends. I have autism, so ordinarily, I’m not put on the checkout because I don’t do well with social interactions. The manager, however, has had to take a call so I’m required to fill in.

Customer: “I want a discount on this book because it’s second-hand.”

Me: “We are a second-hand bookstore.”

Customer: “Yes?”

Me: “You will have to wait as only the manager can authorise discounts.”

She decides to berate me, the store, and the charity as a whole for a minute or so. She eventually realises that I haven’t said anything the entire time.

Customer: “Hey! Are you even listening?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Customer: “Then why haven’t you said anything?”

Me: “You haven’t said anything worth replying to.”

I realised immediately from her face that this was very much the wrong thing to say. My anxiety kicked in and I switched to autopilot. I turned around and headed straight into the back room. I was now in panic mode which meant I went semi-catatonic. The manager knows about this and to just leave me alone, so after his call ended, he gave me a pat on the shoulder and went back to the checkout.

After my panic was over, I headed back to the checkout to deal with the repercussions. The manager was laughing with another volunteer who happened to arrive while the customer was shouting at me. She had already explained what had happened and that after the customer stood there with their jaw dropped, she blushed quite strongly and ran out of the store.

I then learned that the customer used to volunteer at the store but had to be let go, along with others, after the register was repeatedly missing between £50-100 on days they volunteered.

This was apparently her way of getting revenge for being let go: complaining and demanding discounts from anyone who was working the register.

Despite the manager finding my behaviour funny, which I now agree with, he agreed to not put me on the checkout from now on and ensures there is always another volunteer in with us so it doesn’t happen again.

I normally work behind the scenes, but somehow I’ve ended up spending a lot more time working with the sales guys. I hate it; it’s all so fake and pompous. Luckily, the sales guys are pretty down-to-earth and friendly, all bar one, [Sales Guy #1].

He believes all his own hype, he boasts about everything, he lies, and he betrays everyone for his own gain. I hate the guy.

I show up at a customer’s multi-million-pound headquarters. [Sales Guy #1] appears in his flashy car, wearing his Italian shoes, skinny suit, and ridiculous sunglasses. He walks over to me and sneers at my car.

Sales Guy #1: “You should really sort this car out. Get something a little less drab.”

Me: “Having two kids will allow for a lot of drab, [Sales Guy #1].”

Sales Guy #1: “You see, that was your mistake, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t let someone tie me down.”

Thankfully, the other guys arrive and we head inside.

Sales Guy #2: “Hey, nice suit, [My Name]!”

Me: “Thanks.”

Sales Guy #1: “Yeah, sure, nice.” *Scoffs*

Sales Guy #2: “Don’t listen to him. What is it?”

Me: “Err… Gucci.”

Sales Guy #1: “No, it’s not!”

He grabs my collar, checking that it is.

Sales Guy #1: “Hmm… Well, I suppose it’s okay.”

Me: “They fit great. You should get one, [Sales Guy #1]. Yours is a little drab.”

It was wonderful; he didn’t speak to me for days. Of course, I never told him that I bought the suit from a charity shop and had it tailored. I think he did actually go out and buy a new suit just to compete.

It’s a few minutes before four when my supervisor turns to me. 

Supervisor: “Can you cover [Coworker] in gardening for her break?”

Me: “Actually, I’m out now.”

Supervisor: “Oh! What was your shift today?”

Me: “Ten to four.”

Supervisor: “Can you stay?”

Me: “Well, my husband just got home today and I haven’t seen him all week—”

Supervisor: “GIRL, GO.”