I work in a store that sells exclusively paper and stationery, with the word “paper store” in the title of the store:

Customer: “I’ve been down every aisle, and I can’t find any nails!”

Me: “We don’t sell nails, sir.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because this is a stationery and paper store.”

Customer: “But you do have a nail section?”

Me: “We don’t.”

Customer: “You sold out?”

Me: “No, we used them all up to nail the sign above the shop that says “paper store”.”

The customer didn’t get my smart-a** comment, and left to look for nails elsewhere… maybe a bakery or something.

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual content

I’m working in the copy department at the office supply/stationery store. A lady storms up to me and says bluntly.

Customer: “You will print some pictures of my grandson from my phone.”

She isn’t asking, she’s telling.

Me: “I can set you up at one of our DIY stations and—”

Customer: “—no. I don’t have time for that. I said you will do it.”

Me: “We don’t usually—”

Customer: *Handing me her phone.* “Go through them, and I will select which ones I want.”

Fine, she’s obviously going to die on this hill. I connect her phone to my computer, and her photo folders appear on my screen. As I navigate to the folder she orders me to, all these pictures of… well… a certain part of the male anatomy pop up. And I’m not talking about one or two; it’s dozens of different ones that dudes have obviously been sexting her, most in various states of… excitement.

Customer: “What’s taking so long!?”

The monitor was on a rotating platform, so I spun it around and asked her with a straight face:

Me: “Is this your grandson?”

She turned bright red, yanked her phone away, and ran out of the store. I hope she had time to do it herself at whatever store she went to next!

CORRECTION: A Missing word has been added in the last sentence.

A customer wanted to buy a 25p eraser. It was only a tiny thing; it could fit at the end of a pencil. He could have easily put it in his wallet.

Customer: “Where’s my bag?”

Me: “You want a bag for the eraser?”

Customer: “I made a purchase; I should get a bag!”

Me: “We’re actually out of the small bags, and I assumed—”

Customer: “—you should never assume! It makes an a** out of you and me!”

Me: “You know what, sir? You’re absolutely right.”

I pull out the only bags I have accessible at my checkout; our very largest bags designed for bulky items and capable of covering size A1 packs of paper (594 x 841 mm, or 23.4 x 33.1 inches).

Customer: “You don’t have anything smaller?”

Me: “As I was going to say, sir, the sign at the entrance to the checkouts states we’re currently out of all our bag sizes, except our largest, but I shouldn’t assume that you didn’t read that.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous!” *Storms off, sans bag.*

Related:
Baggage About A Lack Of Baggage, Part 3
Baggage About A Lack Of Baggage, Part 2
Baggage About A Lack Of Baggage

I’m browsing in a cute, small stationery store. I get distracted by a little framed sign next to the register. It’s a photo of a very fluffy tabby cat with the caption: “This is our manager.”

Me: *Grinning at the clerk.* “Can I… can I see the manager?”

Clerk: *Smiling.* “Just a moment.”

He slips into the back room and reemerges with a whiskered manager, placing him on the counter. The cat stretches luxuriously across the counter like he owns the place, which, let’s face it, he is a cat, of course he owns the place.

Me: *Stroking the cat, enjoying the purring.* “This is my first time ever asking for the manager!”

Clerk: “Enjoy it! These kinds of experiences aren’t usually this cute! It’s even better when someone’s actually complaining and demands to speak to the manager and we bring out Mr. Tibby.”

Mr. Tibby purrs louder, concurring.

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I work in a stationery store. A customer comes over with a packing tape dispenser from our packing products section.

Customer: “I need this, but for left-handed people.”

Me: “Could you repeat that?”

Customer: *Rolling her eyes like I’m an idiot.* “I need this packing tape—” *Waves it around in my face.* “—but for left-handed people! All you have are right-handed models, and it’s all backwards for people like me!”

Me: “Could you show me what you mean?”

Customer: *Rolls her eyes again and throws in a tut for good measure.* “This is my left hand.” *Hold up her left hand.* “I want this hand to pull the packing tape, but it’s going the wrong direction! It’s only for right-handed people. That’s discriminatory.”

Not really believing what I am hearing, but leaning into it, I take the packing tape, pick it up, rotate it 180 degrees, and put it back down.

Me: “How about now?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Is that everything I can help you with today?”

Customer: *Walking away, but needing the final word.* “Well, if the tape is designed for both hands, it should say so on the packaging!”