(I’m an assistant manager at a popular shoe store chain and am cashing out an old couple. It had been relatively busy all day and we have been short-staffed, so I have spent most of the day at the register while my coworker was in the back unloading a shipment of shoes. We are required to ask about loyalty, ask if customers want to donate to a cause, tell them about optional surveys, AND try to get them to buy accessories on top of this to keep our jobs. This interaction happens shortly after I go through the requirements checklist.)

Old Woman: “Oh, for the love of God, stop trying to sell us s***! It’s very rude, you know! Also, [Husband] and I might have made a little mess when trying on shoes; hope you don’t mind cleaning it up for us.”

Me: *forcing a smile* “Of course, ma’am! Have a great day.”

(I handed her her receipt and went to go inspect the “mess.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head! They had each tried on 10 to 15 pairs of shoes and left them jumbled all over the aisle, many pairs completely separated from their boxes! It took coworker and I nearly an hour to separate boxes and pair up shoes and find where they all came from.)

(I work in a small location that sells only one international brand of shoes. We don’t have a lot of space, so some of the less popular shoes don’t get replenished. When we run out of sizes or styles, we frequently write down the name and code number for the shoe so that the customer can find it on our website later.)
Customer: I like these ones, but this one has a blemish. *pointing out a pair of blue shoes that also come in red or black*
Me: Oh, no, I’m sorry to see that. I’ll go check if we have another pair in your size – if we don’t have them in the blue, would you be okay with trying on one of the other colours?
Customer: I guess that’d be fine. The black ones by preference.
(I run upstairs to our stock room, and the only pair of that style in her size are the blue ones with the blemish. They’re also slightly different colours – probably from someone trying to clean the blemish off. I double check that there aren’t any of her size in the other colours, grab the mismatched blue pair, and take a deep breath.)
Me: I’m really sorry, but it turns out that the only ones of that style that I have in your size are the blue ones – *holding them out*
Customer: Well, you can hardly expect me to buy those.
Me: No, no, absolutely, but I’ve brought them down so you can try them on, at least, and –
Customer: *cutting me off* Don’t you have any in the other colours?
Me: No, which is why I brought these ones down. Even though the colour’s wrong, you could still try them on –
Customer: But why would I?
Me: If they fit, at least, I can write down the code for you –
Customer: No.
Me: What I mean is, if you have the code and you know they fit, you can find them online.
Customer: *stares at me for a few moments* Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.
Me: *screaming internally*

I used to work for a well known big-chain shoe store that sells popular brands like Nike, Adidas, Converse etc. 2 months after i began working as a shop assistant corporate opened a second store in the city as one store was not big enough for the volume of customers we received. As the second store was much larger all deliveries ordered online using ‘click & collect’ were sent to the newer one while we just dealt with in-store transactions. The second store was at the bottom end of the high street while our store was at the top end so they were at least a 15-20 minute walk apart – this was made explicitly clear on email confirmation orders (i.e ‘please pick up deliveries from South end store not North end store’). I stayed in the north store after the opening and we never had any complaints of this change, although i once had a customer who was adamant it was anyone’s but her own fault for not properly reading her email.

Her: Hi, im here to pick up a click & collect *rummaging in bag* here’s my confirmation email printed.
Me: Oh hi, I’m really sorry but since we opened our new store all deliveries go there as its bigger!
Her: *face suddenly stony with a angry glare* wHAT? Since when had there been a second store?
Me: I’m sorry about any confusion, it is a new store so I can understand if you got mixed up
(although I fail to see why as the new store was heavily advertised all over the high street, billboards, posters, the job lot. and the email clearly stated deliveries were to the new store)
Her: This is ridiculous I have lived here my whole life and I NEVER heard about a new store.
Me: *trying to keep my cool as its Saturday at peak time and its extremely busy with a big queue behind her* Well there has been lots of advertising and the email does say deliveries are to the new store! We’ve had a few mix-ups though (lie) so it is understandable!
Her: Well that’s not good enough i didn’t see that part of the email and i need my parcel here and now
Me: I’m afraid there’s not much i can do about that, your delivery will still be at the new store.
Her: *almost shouting* this is ridiculous i walked all this way up the high street and you don’t even have my package this is a joke i didn’t even know there was a second store.
Me: Well i’m not sure wh-
Her: Save it i’ll just walk back down.
*throws her purse & confirmation print out into bag and dramatically into her bag and storms out of store muttering about bad communication*

(The store I work in is closing down and, as such, we have a large sale running. This has led to a lot of problematic customers but this guy is incredibly infuriating and I consider calling security. I am assisting another customer when he comes up to me with a shoe.)

Customer: “Hi. I found this 42 but I can’t find the other foot in the right size. Can you help me find it?”

Me: “Sir… we don’t have any size 42 left in this style; where did you find this?”

(He leads me over to what used to be a stack of cartons at the very back of the store, away from any of the shoes on sale with “FAULTY/ODD SHOES; DO NOT TOUCH” written on them. He has clearly unstacked all of them and has been going through the boxes.)

Me: “Sir, there is no other shoe. These cartons contain faulty and odd shoes. I cannot sell them to you.”

Customer: “Oh, but I found that out there.” *gestures out at the floor*

Me: “This was not out on the floor, sir.”

(I pick up the empty box with an “ODD SHOE” label on top and put the shoe back in. He reaches back into one of the cartons.)

Me: “Sir, I cannot sell you any of these shoes. They are either lone shoes, mismatched pairs, or faulty shoes. They aren’t even in my system anymore.”

Customer: “But I really like that one. Isn’t there something you can do for me?”

(In my head, all I can think is, “No. Do I look like I can pull a shoe out of my a***?” but I force a smile anyway.)

Me: “There’s nothing I can do, sorry.”

(He walks away and I think that’s the end of that. I get some tape, tape the cartons up again, and add more signs to them. I have to duck into the back room and take a call, leaving only my coworker out the front. Part way through the call I hear what sounds like a stack of shoes collapsing. Once I’m done, I exit the back room and walk out to find that the cartons of odd or faulty shoes have been torn open. I go to the front and find three pairs of either mismatched or faulty shoes at the counter with the man nearby still looking at other shoes. I take the three pairs back to the cartons, tape them up AGAIN, and replace the signs. A customer calls me away and I help them, taking their items to the front, only to find MORE ODD SHOES AT THE COUNTER. After serving the original customer I yet again walk the odd shoes to the cartons and add more tape. I then see the man at the counter being served by my coworker. I go over to put the tape away and am crouched next to her for the next part.)

Customer: “Oh, she told me I could have these shoes for $10, as well.”

(He gestures to shoes that are 50% off, and definitely not $10. I lean back immediately so he can see me and raise both my eyebrows.)

Me: “I did not tell you those shoes were $10.”

Customer: “Oh, haha! Just these ones, then.”

(Fortunately, then he bought his — fortunately, not mismatched — shoes and left, but if he hadn’t I would have asked him to leave or else I would have called security. I wish he was the only one who went through those cartons but he was definitely the most persistent about it.)

(I’m shopping in a big shoe store with my mom. While wandering the back rows, a woman grabs me and this conversation ensues.)

Woman: “Excuse me. Can you help me with these shoes?” *points to a display of shoes on an end row*

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry; I don’t work here.”

Woman: *snottily, rolling her eyes* “I know you don’t work here. I just have a question about these shoes.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Woman: “Do you know what the price is?”

Me: “No… because I don’t work here.”