(My store has just this morning had a meeting in which the loss prevention supervisor spent some time explaining his duties and emphasizing that no floor associate or cashier is allowed, ever, to pursue a shoplifter due to liability issues, but that we are required to report it immediately if we see theft. It is early spring and unseasonably warm. Seasonal workers are not yet scheduled, but a lot of customers are shopping in the garden center and I am the only employee on duty in that part of the store. I am behind a long counter adjacent to the exit door stocked with impulse-purchase-type merchandise, working the register at a closed-off end. The line to check out is ten or twelve people long. I am ringing up a man with two full flatbed carts of trees, planting mix, bagged fertilizer, etc., which are directly in front of me across the counter. Suddenly, a young man built like a football offensive lineman, a box under each arm, runs through the door of the main store and out the exit door by where I am working. A couple of the customers waiting in line run out after him. I immediately excuse myself to the customer I was helping and pick up the phone to page for a loss prevention associate or manager as I was instructed not two hours ago. The store manager responds, approaching the counter within a minute or so.)

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

Me: “A man just ran out of the store with what looked like two portable stereos.”

Manager: “You just let him run out? You made no attempt to stop him?”

Me: “Mr. [Manager], you were at the meeting this morning; you know I couldn’t have chased after him even if I was in a position to do so.”

Manager: “You saw him running; what stopped you from blocking the door?”

Me: “What? He was running, so there wouldn’t have been time, as well as there being a counter, a customer, and two large carts of merchandise directly in front of me! I was not going to risk hurting myself or someone else to vault the counter to try to stop a man twice my size!”

(The customers begin to chime in.)

Customer: *who I was checking out* “It happened so fast, I didn’t see anything.”

Other Customer: *who ran out the door after the thief* “Yeah, he had two boomboxes, and he jumped into a waiting car; there would have been no way to stop him, anyway, without someone getting run over.”

(The manager then took the details and walked back into the store, turning back and giving a final, “We can’t just let people run out with unpaid merchandise!” At least the customers were all supportive, telling me not to let the idiot manager get to me, as there was nothing I could have done, anyway.)

(The store where I work has, up until recently, been pretty lax about holding customers to our 65-day return policy. However, this spring, corporate decided to enforce it more strictly. Now, if a customer tries to return an item even one day past the allotted 65 days, our registers will completely freeze us out and we physically cannot process the return. As you’d expect, we get a fair number of customers who are less than pleased about this fact, but this lady has got to be the worst so far.)

Customer: *hands me a necklace and a receipt* “I’d like to return this, please.”

Me: “Certainly!” *goes through the return process, until an error message pops up that it can’t be returned* “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, but it appears I can’t return this item as it is outside of our 65-day return policy.”

Customer: “But I shop here all the time! I just bought this necklace, and then went on vacation, and now I want to return it.”

(We hear this all the time, but honestly, unless you’re on vacation for over two months, you have no excuse.)

Me: “I understand your frustration, but our company did recently get stricter about the return policy, and unfortunately, I cannot take this return.”

Customer: “Is there a manager I can speak to about this?”

Me: *calls for a manager, all the while thinking* “Do you really think a manager will be able to get around corporate policy for you?”*

Assistant Manager: *approaching my register* “What’s up?”

Customer: “She’s saying she won’t take my return because it’s past 65 days. I just bought this necklace to go on vacation, but it didn’t go with my blouse, and now that I’m back home I want to return it.”

Assistant Manager: “I am sorry about that, ma’am, but because it is outside of our return policy, we can’t return this item.”

Customer: “But I shop here all the time! I spend so much money here you wouldn’t believe it! And if this is the way I’m going to be dealt with—“

Assistant Manager: *clearly trying to get ahead of what might be a very long, angry tirade* “I do apologize, ma’am, but unfortunately, there’s nothing we can—“

(The customer suddenly lunges forward across the counter and snatches the necklace and receipt out of [Assistant Manager]’s hands.)

Customer: *practically snarling with rage now* “Fine! I’ll just take care of it myself!”

Assistant Manager: *taken aback* “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to upset you. There’s no need to be disrespectful.”

Customer: *turning to walk out the door* “You’re the one who’s being disrespectful!”

Assistant Manager: “I didn’t mean to be, but…” *sighs, calls after [Customer]* “Have a nice day, ma’am!”

Customer: *from doorway* “Shove it!”

Assistant Manager: *quietly, so only she and I can hear* “Oh… Okay, then. You, too, ma’am, you, too.”

(I work in a women’s boutique. I’m standing inside the shop by myself since the manager is on break. I have a customer in the fitting room. I see a woman and her daughter pointing and looking through the display window. They eventually come in.)

Woman: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I do. Was there something you’d like to see from the display window?”

Woman: “Oh, no. I just had a question about restaurants.”

Me: “…”

Woman: “My daughter and I want to have brunch, but we only eat gluten-free and organic, and we’re not in the mood for Italian or Chinese. Could you tell me where we could go have brunch?”

(I’m thinking, “Are you serious?”)

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t think of any place, but I can give you this.”

(I give her a little booklet with most of the shows and restaurants close by.)

Woman: “But you work here; you should know.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not familiar with the property’s restaurants. There’s a concierge down the hallway; I’m sure he could tell you where to go.”

Woman: “You work here. Can’t you call around and find out for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that; I have to tend to customers in here.”

(Good thing the customer in the fitting room was ready to be rung up, so “ButYouWorkHere” finally left the shop.)

(I’m a few months pregnant, and though my belly isn’t “almost bursting,” it’s pretty round and obvious. It’s worth noting that I am unmarried, and thus I have my parents’ last name. I’m in the grocery store with my father, and he decides to grab a nice bottle of wine for a dinner party that his boss is hosting. We walk up to the register together and I pay for my items, then wait at the end of the register, leaning on the cart. My father hands the bottle of wine to the cashier and produces an ID. The cashier checks it, and then turns to me.)

Cashier: *sternly* “I need your ID, too.”

Me: “What? Oh. It’s not for me.” *gestures to my belly*

Cashier: *sighs irritably* “I need to see your ID.”

Me: “Um, okay.” *pulling out my ID* “I’m not 21, though.”

Cashier: *turns to my father* “I can’t sell you this. Selling alcohol to anyone underage is against the law.”

Father: “My pregnant daughter isn’t purchasing it, though. I am. She has already paid for her stuff.”

Cashier: “Sir, I can’t sell this to you, because how do I know you’re not going to give it to her when you leave?”

Father: *sighs* “Okay.” *turns to me, quietly* “Why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll see if I can go to customer service.”

(As he hands me the keys, the cashier interjects.)

Cashier: “I saw you guys walk in together! I’m not losing my job because some old guy wants to buy his—“ *air quotes* “—’daughter’ alcohol. Who spends this much on a bottle of wine if they’re not trying to show off and impress some chick half his age?”

(Angry, pregnant, and embarrassed, I’m struggling not to openly cry.)

Father: *to me, through clenched teeth* “I’ll take you home and come back another time, when there’s a manager to help sort this out.”

Cashier: “I still won’t be able to sell to you, since I know it’s for her!”

(My father rolled his eyes and we left. We were both livid, and once he’d calmed down, he contacted the district manager and received an apology. He stopped at a different store and got the wine. I haven’t seen that cashier since.)

(We have a young staff member who only works on Sundays and always seems to get jobs that keep her away from the register. We are supposed to sign up a specific number of new customers per shift, and she rarely hits the target. Both the store manager and I work alternate Sundays with her; it’s the Friday before my weekend on.)

Manager: “[Coworker] hasn’t reached target again this week; she has to hit four new signups but is lucky to get one each shift.”

Me: “But she always has work that keeps her away from the counter and only has a four-hour shift.”

Manager: “Well, she’s just going to have to make more of an effort. She’s got to get to that target or I’m going to have to give her a written warning.”  

(It’s Sunday and my young coworker has come to the counter in time to see me put through a signup. She serves a customer who refuses her offer of a signup.)

Coworker: “I don’t get it. I ask every time I serve someone and always get told no. How do you do it? [Manager] told me that if I don’t hit target this weekend, I could end up with a warning.”

Me: “I don’t always get a yes, so don’t worry yourself too much. I’ll make sure you don’t get a warning.”

(About fifteen minutes later she comes back to the counter to collect some stock that she needs to put out. I am serving a customer who is filling in the form for the customer signup., I put my sale on hold and sign out.)

Me: “[Coworker], can you sign in on the register, please?”

Coworker: “Why, is there a refund?”  

Me: “No, it’s for this.” *starts entering the signup under her name*

Coworker: “Oh, my God! You’re doing that for me? But what about your target?”

Me: “I’ll make up for it on other shifts, and I still have four hours after you’re gone.”

(I managed to sign up two more customers for her, and then she signed one up for herself which made her target. I noticed she was no longer tense when asking customers. It was obvious they noticed, too, because she made one more sign up before she left and even made more the next weekend. She did thank me. I just don’t like bullying tactics foisted on staff by management who won’t nurture and help young staff members find their confidence. Neither of us lasted much longer at that job; she left before I did.)