(A woman comes in, looks around for a few minutes, and then comes up to the register with a printer she clearly didn’t have before.)

Coworker: *over the radio* “Stall her. I’m coming up to the front after checking the printer stock.”

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I want to return this printer. It doesn’t work with my computer.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Customer: “I mean the d*** thing doesn’t work! The cable doesn’t fit!”

(This printer, like most sold today, doesn’t even come with the cable. My coworker has noticed a missing printer from our display and is on the way up front.)

Me: “Are you talking about the USB cable? The universal printer cable that should work with all printers?”

Customer: “Don’t sass me! I want my store credit!”

Me: “Ma’am, the printer hasn’t even been opened yet.”

Customer: “Well, f*** you if you don’t think I could retape it!”

Me: “It’s the same tape as it was first boxed with. Not to mention you didn’t know about the USB cable, which is both not included with this printer, and standard for every printer and computer for years.”

Customer: “GIVE ME MY F****** MONEY!”

(She took a swing at me and was immediately restrained by my coworker, who she looked to outweigh by about fifty pounds. The police soon arrived and dragged the customer out the door kicking and screaming.)

(I work in a beauty store that sells hair, makeup, skincare, and bath products. I have been complimented in the past on my friendly service and my willingness to help customers. A lady has come in asking for good-quality makeup brushes that aren’t too pricey.)

Me: *showing her our selection of lower-priced brushes* “I have had good luck with the [Brand] brushes, and they are a lower price point, as well.”

Customer: “These brushes are s***. I have used them before. What else do you have?”

Me: *pointing out another brand next to the brushes I just showed her* “These ones are nice, too. I have heard many good things about them.”

Customer: “Those aren’t what I’m looking for.”

Me: “Okay. We have many brands and types of brushes in the store, so I am sure we can find you something. What kind of brush do you have in mind?”

Customer: “Ones for eyeshadow.”

Me: “Do you prefer the fluffy ones for blending, or the stiffer ones for application?”

Customer: *getting exasperated* “I don’t know! Just show me what else you have.”

(After showing the customer all the brands in the store that are of okay-quality and cheaper than others, she still was not satisfied with any. They were either too expensive or not of good enough quality.)

Me: “Some brands are a bit pricier because they are of better quality. The same holds true with many products. I have showed you the makeup brushes we carry that are lower prices, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to splurge on a brush that you might be more satisfied with.”

Customer: “I should not have to pay that much for a f****** eyeshadow brush. That’s ridiculous!”

Me: “I know that some are out of the price range that you are looking to spend, but we do guarantee all of our products. If you try it and don’t like it, you can bring it back to us.”

Customer: “I live all the way in [City]. I am not coming back here to return a brush I don’t like!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have showed you all the brands that are in your budget range, and none are what you are looking for. I am not sure how to help you.”

Customer: “You people are supposed to be helpful! I came in here looking for something, and you are just going to turn me away?!”

Me: “That is not my intent. I am just not sure what it is you are looking for.”

Customer: “I am looking for a good makeup brush that is cheap. Apparently, that’s too much to ask.”

Me: “I apologize, but I have already showed you all the inexpensive makeup brushes in the store, and none are to your liking. I wish there was something I could do for you.”

Customer: “You know what? Fine! This is the worst customer service I have ever gotten! I’ll look somewhere else where someone might actually be able to help me!”

(She stormed off and gave me the finger as she left.)

(I’m clothes shopping with my mum when I watch her decide that she doesn’t want a particular shirt and, instead of going to put it back where she found it, she drops it on an unrelated table of items.)

Me: “Wow, Mum. You are the person that retail workers hate.”

Mum: “Nonsense. Retail workers love me. I’m making more work for them.”

Me: “Exactly.”

Mum: “No. See, now they have something to do other than standing around doing nothing.”

Me: “Wow…”

I’m the silly/stupid customer in this one. I’ve gone into a local superstore to return some things for my mum, who is on holiday out of the country. She’s left me with a decent number of items and receipts, and though most of them are pre-sorted, this particular bag isn’t. Here’s where it comes to me being stupid: one receipt is taped to one item, so I assume the other items are all on the second receipt… without actually checking for myself.

I head to the service desk and try to make small talk with the only cashier there, who strikes me as one of those “I’ve worked in retail too long to give a s***” types — very no-nonsense. She scans the first receipt and the item it’s taped to, then scans the second receipt and starts in on the rest of the items. In a rare stroke of luck, I am the only person in line, save for an elderly lady who let me go ahead because she was organizing her items — like I should have. Of course, we come to realize that the items are mixed up, some on the first receipt, others on the second. Then, the machine the cashier is working on goes a bit haywire. I take a brief glance behind me and realize that we’ve gone from one person in line to about eleven.

I’m naturally an anxious person and quite apologetic, so when a young fellow five people back starts saying things like, “D***, I could’ve gone outside and had a smoke!” I begin to apologize quietly to my cashier, shifting from foot to foot, generally trying to shrink into an invisible turtle shell.

She waves it off the first couple times, but by the end of our transaction she looks up and in the most mellow, deadpan voice says, “Look, if they’re going to complain, they can just go to another [Store] and do their returns there. Don’t worry about it.”

The fellow behind me doesn’t say another word, and the lady and I have a laugh as another cashier comes to man the second return till. I’ve read plenty of stories here about customers easing the nerves of retail workers but rarely is it the other way around. I can’t thank her enough for putting up with my incompetence and making an anxious gal’s day a little better. Whoever you are, you have the patience of a saint, and may all your customers treat you with the respect you deserve!

(I work the till at a marine supply store that sells almost everything a boater could ask for. We get a lot of regular customers that many of my coworkers and I know by name. It’s late in the day, so it’s a little slow, and it’s just me and two other coworkers at the registers. A customer I’ve never seen before comes over to my coworker’s register with about $300 worth of product. She begins to ring him out and while he waits, he walks over and picks up a can of electronics duster — compressed air. He proceeds to spray the can of air into his hand for a good, long spritz and then places it back on the shelf.)

Me: “Um, sir, I think you need to pay for that since you just used it.”

(Both my coworkers simultaneously agree with me.)

Customer: “Oh, I was just checking the air pressure. Don’t worry about it.”

Me: “Okay, but you could have asked us about that, instead of spraying a good amount of the can into your hand. We can’t sell that now that you’ve used up a good bit of it.”

Customer: *irritated* “Like you would know what the air pressure would be like when I sprayed it.”

Me: “No, but we have our own cans. You could have asked us first before you wasted one that we can no longer sell. You really should pay for that since you used up a decent amount of it.”

Customer: *irritated and acting like he owns us because he’s spending lots of money* “I’ve been shopping here for twenty years; besides, I’m buying a few hundred dollars’ worth of your stuff. I can just leave here and not buy any of it!”

Me: “Okay, then you should be able to afford that $8 can of air you just wasted!”

(The customer begins to turn red and looks about like he’s ready to explode. My manager, after overhearing the entire conversation, quickly interjects by taking the can of air from the guy.)

Manager: *while walking away* “I’ll take care of this; just get him rung up.”

(The customer stands there, red-faced and angry, while my coworker finishes up his order. All the while, my other coworker and I glare at him. He notices my coworker giving him her best and scariest glare and quickly puts his head down for the remainder of his transaction. Once he’s been rung out, he quickly and quietly leaves.)

Coworker #2: “That guy was such a narcissistic a**hole.”

Coworker #1: “Yeah, he said he’d been shopping here for 20 years, but I’ve never seen him before and he didn’t even have an account with us.”