(A customer tries on a pair of shoes. As she is about to pay, she asks about getting a tax refund.)

Customer: “Can I get duty free for this?”

Me: “No, you cant get duty free for these because you have to spend over $300 and these are only $149.”

Customer: “So, I can get duty free?”

Me: “No, sorry, these are only $149. You need to spend over $300 to be able to claim your tax at the airport.”

Customer: “So, I can only wear these in Australia? I can’t wear these in China?”

Me: “Yes, you can wear these in China, but you wont be able to claim your tax back because they are not over $300.”

Customer: “So, I can’t take these to China?”

Other staff: “Yes you can wear them in China, but they’re not duty free.”

Customer: “So, I can wear them in Australia, and to the airport, but not in China?”

Me: “No, you can wear them anywhere.”

Customer: “How much tax can I get back?”

Other staff: “You can get 10% tax back but you cant get it for these ones because it is less than $300.”

Customer: “So, I can wear them to China?”

Me: “Of course.”

Customer: “Okay!”

(I take my 5-year-old son to the shoe store for new sneakers. He, being a free spirit, chooses the pink sparkly sneakers. I ask the salesman to bring up a pair in his size.)

Me: *hands salesman pink sample sneakers* “Can you bring up a pair in size 4?”

Salesman: “…But it’s pink.”

Me: “Yes. Please get size 4”.  

Salesman: “But… but… he is a boy!”.   

Me: “Yes, I know. My son’s favorite color is pink. Please get him these sneakers in size 4.”   

(Instead of getting the sneakers, the salesman goes to the manager.)

Salesman: “That boy wants to try on this sneaker!”

Manager: “What did Mom say?”

Salesman: “The mother said to get them.”

Manager: “Then go get them!

(The manager then glanced at me, with a rueful smile and shake of the head. My boy finally got his sneakers and loved them. Not that the color mattered: within a week, they were so mud covered they were hardly pink anymore, as usual!)

(I am a very small, tattooed punk girl, with blue hair and lots of piercings. My boyfriend is 6’4″, 280lbs of pure beefcake, with no tattoos. He also wears very expensive custom tailored clothes, as he is very well off. The two of us go with my friend so I can buy new running shoes. My boyfriend comes into the shoe store a little after us.)

Employee: “Can I help you?”

Me: “I am looking for some running shoes. My boyfriend suggested Asics, and I know if I get something different I will never hear the end of it. He’s like a wife!”

Employee: “Well then, why don’t you just drop your b**** and get with a real man?”

Me: *annoyed* “…Are you referring to yourself?”

Employee: “Yeah, I can show you what a real man is like.”

Me: “No, thank you.”

Employee: “What? You’re too good for me?”

Me: “Sorry, I only date men with real jobs.”

(Around this time, my boyfriend comes up behind the employee and listens to the exchange.)

Employee: “F*** you! You have blue hair. The only guys who would date you are loser drug addicts!”

Me: “Well, you just asked me out, so are you saying you’re a loser drug addict?”

Employee: “Whatever, b****! Your man ain’t got s*** on me.”

(At this point, my boyfriend decides it’s time to speak up.)

My Boyfriend: “Well, from where I’m standing, I have about 6 inches and 100lbs on you. And if you say one more unkind word to my girlfriend, I will show you exactly how it feels to be somebody’s b****.”

(Seeing my boyfriend, the employee goes stark white, stares for a second, and, incredibly, turns to my friend.)

Employee: *to my friend* “So, do you wanna go out with me then?”

(My friend ended up lodging a sexual harassment complaint with the manager.)

(Two very attractive young ladies come into the shoe store where I work. My male coworker and male assistant manager practically climb over each other in order to be the one to help them.)

Assistant Manager: “Hello, ladies! How are you this fine evening?”

Lady #1: “No hablo Inglés.”

Assistant Manager: “Oh, really… I see. Is there anything I can help you two find?”

(The two ladies glance at each other, shrug their shoulders, and walk away.)

Assistant Manager: *to coworker* “Don’t even bother! They’re stuck up b****es!”

Me: “They’re speaking Spanish. They just told you that they don’t speak English!”

Assistant Manager: “Foreign chicks! Translate for me: I want to see if they’ll meet me for a drink after work.”

Me: “Sorry, I know very little Spanish. Only a couple of phrases.”

Assistant Manager: “You just don’t want me to score!”

(The assistant manager follows the ladies around the store, smiling at them, and speaking to them loudly and slowly in English. When they still don’t seem to understand him, he starts to talk inappropriately.)

Assistant Manager: “You girls are lucky to be in my country! I should make you get down on your knees and suck my **** for the privilege!”

Coworker: *laughs hysterically*

Me: “You shouldn’t be speaking to any customer that way, even if they don’t speak English! You never know… they may understand some of what you’re saying!”

(The assistant manager blows me off and he and my coworker continue to harass the ladies. The whole time, the ladies just smile and nod. Eventually, they come up to my register with two pairs of shoes.)

Me: “Lo sentimos; hablo muy poco español.” (“Sorry, I speak very little Spanish.”)

Lady #1: *in perfect English* “That’s okay. Thanks for trying!”

Me: *surprised* “Oh… I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say earlier that you don’t speak English.”

Lady #2: “Yeah, we did say that. We just wanted to be left alone…” *turns to my shocked assistant manager and coworker* “…and we understood EVERYTHING that was said.”

Lady #1: “That’s right!” *laughs* “Are you the manager?”

Me: “No, I’m not.”

Lady #1: “Well, you should be! When is the manager due in? Please don’t tell me the manager is one of those guys over there!”

Me: “The manager’s name is [Name]. He typically only works weekdays.”

Lady #2: “Thanks! We’ll be back!”

(The ladies did come back and threatened to sue the company for sexual harassment. The assistant manager and my coworker were both fired, sexual harassment training became mandatory for all employees, and I got a raise.)

(I work as the technical specialist for a shoe store my family owns. I’m currently in a storage room off the front entrance on the computer.)

Customer: “Hi, excuse me? What’s your return policy?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m not entirely sure. Someone at the front desk could help you better.” *points to front desk*

Customer: “Oh, I thought this was the front desk.” *looks around* “You don’t really have much in here.”

Me: “Not really. Sorry, I’m just the IT person.”

Customer: *angry* “You just said that so you don’t have to help me!”

Me: *speechless*

Customer: “You just made that up so you didn’t have to get up and help me! Yeah, right…’I-T’. Like that’s a real job!” *leaves*