It’s my first few months working at a smaller chain pet store in my city. In spite of having worked there a bit, corporate wants me to finish up training on the products the company sells directly.

On its own, this is just boring, but my manager warns me in advance that in the section on discussing health and how our dog food and health treats can help breeding and mother dogs, they use the B-word to describe them, purely clinically like how dog breeders insist on doing, but he warns me I should probably pause the video when there are customers in the store.

Fast-forward to me standing at the register letting the video run; it’s the video I was told uses said word to describe the dogs, though it seems pretty sparing of it. I’m doing some other things I needed to finish up when I hear the bells on the door ring, right as the video says the B-word no less than four times. I stumble to pause the video and look up to see this older lady who has be no younger than 60 with a granddaughter who is no more than six. She looks at me, mortified, for a handful of seconds before staring intensely at me like I am the devil incarnate, and turns on her heel and leaves.

My manager has been hanging in the back but I tell him what happened when he comes back up. He laughs and says something similar happened to him, and that I wouldn’t be in trouble because if she called and complained to corporate he’d have my back, since it’s corporate’s fault for having training videos that include that word in the first place.

(I work at the self-checkout at a grocery store. Customers always seem to have questions and complaints about the obvious. I’m talking to some of my coworkers when my handheld starts telling me one of the lanes has been idle for a while. I turn to look, as a customer is glaring angrily at me while also on her cell phone. I walk over to help.)

Me: “Hey, how are you today?”

Customer: “I’ve slid my credit card four times and nothing happens. I hate these machines. You should get rid of them. They never work and I’m in a big hurry.”

(I look at the PIN-pad and notice it says, “Please continue checking out.” Then, I look at the monitor.)

Me: “Oh, here’s your problem.”

(I push the “Pay Now” button and hear the usual, “Please select your method of payment,” and then push the credit/debit button.)

Me: “There you go. But if you don’t like using the self-checkout, we do have lanes open that may be faster than trying to figure out how to use these. Have a great day.”

Customer: *mumbles under her breath*

Related:
Check Yourself Before You Self-Checkout

(I’m Asian-American but I grew up in the South, so I have a bit of an accent. It tends to throw people off, especially working at a southern chain restaurant.)

Me: “How are y’all doing today?”

Customer: “Stop faking an accent.”

Me: “I was actually raised in Tennessee, sir.”

Customer: “That doesn’t mean you have to fake an accent to fit in.”

Me: *concentrating on not speaking with an accent* “O…kay…”

Related:
Don’t You Speak Asian? – Part 2
Don’t You Speak Asian?

(I am working as a cashier at a chain retail store with a pharmacy. A woman comes in with a return. Keep in mind that there is a lot of receipt fraud happening on a daily basis. People have been stealing receipts out of the garbage and stealing products that are listed on the receipts in order to return them for money. They’ve also been using high-dollar coupons on products and then returning the items a few days later to get the full value back. Therefore, when a customer comes in with a return, I have gotten into the habit of studying the receipt to check for coupons used, the date of the purchase, the location of the purchase, or anything that seems fishy. A woman is returning a tube of Cortizone-10, as well as a few other items on her receipt. I look at the receipt and I immediately notice that a $1 manufacturers’ coupon was used on the Cortizone-10. I look at the box of Cortizone-10 being returned and I see an unused $1-off coupon, still fully intact, in plain view, stickered on the outside of the box. So, I try using logic:)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. I see that a $1-off coupon was used on this Cortizone-10.” *points to the coupon still on the box* “Is this the coupon that was used?”

Customer: “Yeah…”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not possible. There’s no way that we would leave the coupon on the box after scanning it. We peel it off, scan it, and keep it in the register.”

(And yes, we add them up at the end of the night. The customer looks at me as if I have just spoken Greek. She doesn’t get angry or upset, but she seems completely confused as if she doesn’t understand that I have just caught her. She doesn’t seem to understand the mechanics behind my explanation about how coupons are processed. Chances are, she probably didn’t even notice the $1 coupon that was processed on her stolen receipt.)

Customer: *in a daze* “Oh… Well… I don’t know why they did that.”

(I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I considered the possibility that maybe some other $1 coupon was used in the original transaction. I asked her to put in her phone number to see if her rewards account number matched the account number on the receipt. If she could prove the receipt was hers, she’d get her refund, simple as that. She tried two different phone numbers and, sure enough, neither of them matched the rewards account that was used on the receipt. I declined the return because there was enough evidence that this receipt wasn’t hers and the products were stolen. I apologized and told her that I could not process the return. She said many stores have been giving her problems about it and she wasn’t sure why. She left the store. She wasn’t upset, but she seemed very spacey and confused about the situation. I was almost convinced that someone else had put her up to this and that she was completely innocent and unaware of the criminal activity taking place. I pondered how somebody who was in this mental state could even find and steal the correct products that were listed on a receipt. Where do these people come from?)

(In an attempt to get my mental health back on track after a rocky pregnancy and postpartum experience, I’ve started taking my baby for daily walks. I haven’t met many people since we moved to the area, so I’m excited when a neighbor out watering plants walks over to talk.)

Neighbor: “Hi there! How old is this little doll?”

Me: “She’s seven months old!”

Neighbor: “Well! Looks like you’d better pick up the pace.” *gestures to my still-somewhat-swollen abdomen* “That baby belly isn’t going anywhere with you just strolling along!”

Me: “Um, I don’t—”

Neighbor: *laughs* “But I’m sure her daddy’s told you that already!” *walks off*

(I am no longer eager to meet neighbors.)

This story is part of our Neighbor roundup!

Read the first Neighbor roundup story!

Read the Neighbor roundup!