A customer gets into my lane with a full basket, behind the customer I am about to start serving.

Me: “Ma’am, this is the ten-items-or-less lane.”

Customer: *Looks anywhere but me in an attempt to ignore me.*

Me: “Ma’am.”

Customer: *Suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.*

I start serving my current customer, and basket lady starts unloading her items onto my belt. I sigh.

When I get to serving basket lady, she’s no longer able to ignore me.

Me: “Ma’am, just so you know, for next time, this is the express lane. Each customer can only bring ten items to checkout.”

Customer: “Where does it say that?”

Me: “There is a sign at the entrance to this lane, and another hanging from the ceiling.”

Customer: “Well, they should be clearer! The text is too small! Not every customer can read those!”

I sigh and just scan her items out to get her away from me. After she’s paid and walked away two steps.

Customer: *Scrutinizing her receipt.* “Hey, the Pop-Tarts are 30% off!”

Me: “Oh, now you can read?!”

I admit, it came out of nowhere. Usually, my inside voice stays inside, but something about this customer just made me snap. I was sure I was about to get into trouble, but the customer was just as shocked with my outburst as I was, and hurriedly left without saying another word. 

I wish customers read signs the same way they read their receipts for mistakes.

Related:
Express Yourself At The Express Checkout

I have dropped my professionalism on a call only once, but in my defence, I was sick, at the end of a long day, and this caller left me confused as h***. 

A caller is enquiring about their pending online order.

Caller: “Hello. I’m being charged a shipping fee on my online order, and I can’t take it off.”

Me: “Yes, sir, the shipping fee is calculated and added automatically once you’ve provided your delivery address.”

Caller: “I don’t believe in shipping fees. Please take it off.”

Me: “Uhm… I can’t do that, sir. Shipping fees are applied to all orders.”

Caller: “But I don’t believe in shipping fees.”

Me: “I can assure you, sir, they’re real.”

Caller: “But I don’t believe in them.”

This is going around in circles, so I just say:

Me: “Sir, we are unable to remove the shipping fee. It is not a matter of belief; it is simply what the delivery company charges us to get your order from our warehouse to your home. There is nothing else I can do.”

There is an extended pause, and then the caller says:

Caller: “So [Company] discriminates against my belief system? This is good to know for my online review.”

Me: “Sir, I also can’t believe we’re having this conversation, so both of us have something new to reflect on today. Do you require any more assistance with your online shopping cart?”

Caller: “That wasn’t a very professional thing to say.”

Me: “I apologise, sir.”

Caller: “I don’t believe you’re sorry.” *Click.*

For once, he believed something that was true.

Related:
Entitlement Beyond Belief

Ever since COVID, there have been self-serve wipes available for all customers to disinfect their carts if they want. Well, apparently, some people didn’t get the memo. Multiple times now, someone has mistaken me for an employee while I’m wiping my cart.

Customer: “Can you do this one next?”

Or:

Customer: “Are these clean?”

But then they look closer at me and apologize. Usually, I brush it off with a laugh, until today. 

First, while I’m wiping down, there’s a sudden yank on the cart, and it hits my arm. I look up to see a middle-aged lady trying to pull away with my cart. Out of instinct, I grab the other side and pull back. This surprises her, and she looks up… but doesn’t let go.

Me: “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

No response, she yanks again.

Me: “Let go, please.”

No more yanking, but doesn’t let go either. After a ten-second staring contest:

Customer: *Whiny and high-pitched.* “I need a clean cart.”

Me: “Then get one yourself.”

Customer: “I’m in a hurry.”

Me: “There are wipes right behind you.”

Long pause.

Customer: “Well, can’t you clean another one?”

Me: “I don’t work here.”

Customer: *Angry stare, not letting go.* “I need this one NOW.”

At this point, the cart is no longer clean, but d*** it, it’s the principle of the thing. Years of “letting it go” are also bubbling to the top now as I stare into the face of this entitled woman who has likely gotten her way all her life. Not this time.

Me: “F*** off, lady. Step away from my cart and go get your own.”

She finally lets go by pushing the cart back towards me; she grabs another one and loudly complains all the way into the store.

As a conflict-averse person, I felt really proud of standing my ground.

I’m working front-end at a chain grocery store. It’s my last week before starting a new job, and honestly, I’ve stopped filtering myself. I’m not rude, I’m just done taking nonsense.

A woman is crashing out on a teenage cashier for asking for her ID. It’s store policy. The system literally won’t let you ring up certain items without scanning ID or entering a date of birth.

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I’ve been shopping here for years!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t override it—”

Customer: “—Then get someone who can!”

The kid turns on his “help me” light. I walk over.

Me: “He’s right, ma’am, the system requires an ID.”

She glares.

Customer: “Then it rang up wrong! It’s supposed to be on sale!”

Me: “The sale’s for the twelve-pack. You’ve got the thirty-pack.”

Customer: “Show me!”

Fine. I walk to the cooler with her, point at the label.

Me: “See? It says twelve-pack.”

She crashes out again.

Customer: “Get me another manager!”

I call one. They tell her the exact same thing.

Customer: “Then get the store manager!”

The really pathetic store manager strolls out, listens for thirty seconds, and hands her a $10 gift card for the “inconvenience.”

Now I’m mad. We just rewarded her tantrum… again! This woman’s been pulling the same stunt for months.

A few minutes later, she marches over to the service desk while I’m helping another customer.

Customer: “Don’t bother. She’s useless.”

Something in my brain snaps. I make full eye contact, stick my tongue out at her, and pull the craziest face I can.

Customer: *Shrieks.* “I’m calling corporate!”

The customer I was helping starts laughing.

Me: *To my current customer, in front of the bad customer.* “Sorry about her. Please, take this $15 discount.”

I add the discount and say the next part while locking eyes with the bad customer:

Me: “For the inconvenience.”

I didn’t get a manager’s approval, and at that point, I didn’t care. 

For my last two weeks, I gave mad discounts to anyone nice or even mildly decent. Because honestly, things are hard out there, and I’ve earned my Chaos Era.

I was a manager of an international pizza chain. We were getting absolutely slammed on one of the busiest days of the year, the crew was absolutely busting their butts and moving as fast as they could.

A customer comes in and places a large, complicated order.

Me: “Sure thing, but that will be about forty minutes; is that okay?”

Customer: “Ugh, yeah, sure, but maybe try to move faster.”

He was generally being a jerk, but not quite crossing the line to where I could do something. Then I heard him say something to someone he was with:

Customer: “Forty f****** minutes?! These guys are so slow; I could do it better.”

Well, I was fed up. Something in me snapped, and I reached under the counter for an application, walked up to him in front of a lobby full of customers, and told him:

Me: “You can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk? Either fill out this application or SHUT THE F*** UP AND LEAVE!”

The whole place went silent. Never have I ever let off soooo much stress so quickly. Felt amazing after that.

Related:
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 11
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 10
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 9
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 8
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 7