Dirty Money Is The Problem At Both Ends Of This Story

, , , , | Right | June 19, 2020

I have a cold this winter but can’t call off work. Instead, I dose up on decongestants and pain meds and keep pushing through. To minimize spreading germs, I ask customers to leave larger items in their carts and use the hand scanner as much as possible. I also have a box of tissues and a bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready.

A customer comes to my register with a basket full of canned food. Mid-transaction, I have a sneezing fit. I sneeze into my armpit, turn to excuse myself as I make sure I don’t have anything on my face, and use the hand sanitizer liberally. I turn to face the customer again, only to find her standing several feet away, looking horrified.

Me: “Oh, excuse me. Sorry about that.”

Customer: “Gross!”

Me: “Um… Sorry?”

Customer: “You need to go home. You’re sick!”

Me: “I, uh… I can’t.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Me: “Well, I tried to call off, but management said I’d need a doctor’s note and he’s not available… and I need the money, so…”

Customer: “That’s insane.”

Me: “If you’d like someone else to ring you out, I can call.”

Customer: “No, you’ve already started. Just don’t touch anything else. Use your laser scan thing.”

Me: “Okay.”

The woman holds up each item, keeping a full arm’s length away from me, before bagging her own items.

Me: “Okay. Your total is $83.19.”

Customer: “Okay. Can you break $100? Oh, never mind; maybe I have my bank card.”

She starts looking through her wallet.

Customer: “Here, take these, instead.”

She then licks her thumb, counts off several $5 and $10 bills, and holds them out to me. I sanitize, take her money, sanitize again, and return her change. She holds out an empty plastic bag for me to drop her change into.

Customer: *Disgusted* “Spreading germs like that… Why can’t you just stay home?”

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Crappy Vision Leads To Crappy Situations

, , , , , | Healthy | June 18, 2020

I work at a specialty ophthalmologist clinic. Patients, who are often already visually impaired, often see worse than they usually do right after their appointment, especially if they’ve had their eyes dilated or had treatment.

We have an older patient population, as well, and unfortunate bathroom explosions are prone to happen from time to time, although thankfully they’re usually confined to the bathroom stalls. 

One day, a patient comes to check out with me and is mumbling about needing directions and how they’re not able to see well. I lead them to the elevator — assuming she is leaving after her appointment — and as the doors open, she says, “Is this the toilet?”

“Oh, no, no!” I exclaim and lead her the proper way to the bathrooms, picturing the disaster we could have had on our hands.

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You Can Give As Good As You Get Without Breaking A Sweat

, , , , , , | Right | June 12, 2020

I work at the front desk of a grocery store and we have a lottery machine. On a hot August day, I am printing a woman’s tickets.

She reaches into the neckline of her mumu and pulls out a wad of cash glistening with “boob sweat.” She puts the money on the counter and I take the eraser end of a pencil and slide the damp bills onto a paper towel.

Customer: “There’s nothing wrong with that money.”

Me: “Would it be okay if I gave you your lottery tickets after I shoved them down my pants?”


This story has been included in our June 2020 roundup as one of that month’s most memorable stories!

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Smells Like Teen Spirit

, , | Right | June 4, 2020

I work at a dry cleaning shop. A lady comes in and puts a bed cover on the counter of the register. I check out the item, unfolding it with my bare hands, to see if there is any damage or special stains on it, and I ask the customer if there is anything specific I should know about it.

I can’t find anything, and the lady tells me that there isn’t, so I just register it in the computer and take the bed cover in my arms to take it to the back of the store where the machines are. She then tells me:

Customer: ”Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Be careful; it’s full of ‘teen,’ if you know what I mean.”

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When Even Chocolate Can’t Save The Day

, , , , , | Right | June 2, 2020

I work at a coffee shop chain that allows customers to buy 5.5 gallons of either black coffee or hot chocolate in a reusable cambro that the customer brings back to us when they are done. 

A customer who owns a business in the same strip mall as our coffee shop asks for the cambro of hot chocolate for her salon. This customer isn’t the nicest person we’ve ever worked with but usually responds pretty well to our general manager. She picks up the hot chocolate cambro at 5:00 pm and we don’t think anything of it.

The next morning, she comes storming into our store.

Customer: “Where is [General Manager]?! I demand to talk to him!”

Me: “Unfortunately, ma’am, he is not scheduled today. How may I help you?”

Customer: “You sold me curdled hot chocolate. I can’t serve that!”

Confused, I find my assistant store manager who is working and was the one who sold her the cambro the night before.

Assistant Store Manager: “Ma’am, the hot chocolate was fine when we gave it to you last night. I made it myself. Can you tell us what happened?”

The woman tells us that she bought the cambro full of hot chocolate with the intention of serving it the next day. She literally left a pressurized cambro of hot chocolate out all night. The milk obviously went bad and, due to the pressure, the lid exploded off and curdled hot chocolate went EVERYWHERE in her salon.

Until we can get a hold of her general manager, our assistant store manager agrees to send one of our team members down to the woman’s salon to help her clean it up. It is all over the walls, furniture, and floor, and it smells TERRIBLE.

Per my team member, the woman keeps saying things like, “I don’t understand why it exploded. You should be able to keep milk out overnight with no problem!” As none of us know any non-sarcastic way to explain to this woman that, just like you can’t keep a gallon of milk on a counter unrefrigerated, you certainly can’t keep 5.5 gallons of hot chocolate out overnight, we keep quiet until our general manager calls us back.

General Manager: “SHE DID WHAT?!”

Our general manager ended up calling the woman and explaining why the cambro exploded and that she couldn’t yell at his employees. We aren’t allowed to sell her any more cambros of anything.

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