I am working the checkout line at Costco. A man reaches the front of my queue with a cart overflowing. I reach out my hand for his card.

Me: “Good afternoon! Could I see your membership card, please?”

Customer: “I don’t have one. Just ring me up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re a membership-only warehouse. I can’t open a transaction without scanning a valid card.”

Customer: *Voice rising immediately.* “Are you kidding me? I’m standing here with hundreds of dollars’ worth of stuff! You’re going to turn away money because I don’t have a piece of plastic?”

Me: “It’s our store policy, sir. It’s how we keep our prices low. If you’d like, you can head over to the membership desk and sign up right now.”

Customer: “I am sick of this! Everything is a membership or a subscription these days! I have to pay for Netflix, I have to pay for Amazon, I have to pay for my gym, and now you want me to pay for the ‘privilege’ of buying my own groceries? It’s a scam! It’s all a corporate scam!”

Me: “I understand the frustration, but it’s literally the business model of the store. How did you get past the greeter at the front door?”

Customer: “That doesn’t matter! This is America! I should be able to buy a f****** cheese without being on a government-style registry!”

A manager, hearing the shouting, walks over and tries to de-escalate.

Manager: “Is there a problem here, sir?”

Customer: “Yes! Your employee is refusing to take my money because I’m not a ‘member’ of your little cult! I just want my groceries!”

Manager: “Sir, the membership is what allows us to operate. Without it, we aren’t authorized to process the sale. It’s the same for everyone in this building.”

Customer: “Well, the customer is always right, and the customer says his money is green! Just hit the ‘skip’ button or whatever you do for people who aren’t sheep!”

Manager: “Sir, there is no ‘skip’ button for the foundational pillar of the store’s global business strategy.”

Customer: “Fine! Keep your stupid chicken! I’m going to the Walmart down the street where they don’t treat food like a VIP nightclub!”

He storms out, leaving the full cart behind. I look at my manager.

Me: “There’s a Walmart down the street?”

Manager: “Kinda. It’s a Sam’s Club.”

Me: “Walmart’s membership-only warehouse club?”

Manager: “Oh, to be a fly on THAT wall…”

I’m helping at a resale shop that’s having a large sale – all items in a certain room are $1 apiece, and I’m doing cash payments for that room. A particular woman keeps picking items up and bringing them to me to ask, “How much?” and I repeatedly tell her, “It’s only $1. Everything in this room is $1.” Nearly an hour later, she buys twelve items and stuffs them into a purse that I quickly add to the sale.

Three hours later, she comes back.

Lady: “Where’s that doll?”

Me: “What doll are you talking about?”

Lady: “You know what doll! You took it back and sold it to someone else, didn’t you?”

Me: “We’ve had a good number of dolls we’ve sold. Which one are you talking about?”

Lady: “The creepy doll!”

Me: “I don’t remember a creepy doll. Are you sure you bought it from us?”

Lady: “Yes, I did, I know I did, because you put it in my purse.”

Me: “Can you describe the doll to me?”

Eventually, through lengthy description, I figure out she means a mini Gollum statue from The Lord of the Rings. I know for a fact that I didn’t sell a statue, so I can only guess she hid it in the purse. We reach an impasse, and she storms out, and I think that’s it. Wrong! Her friend came in shortly after to ask the same thing, and I again said I haven’t sold a Gollum statue, or any statue. 

Finally, the friend says:

Friend: “I’ve known that woman most of my life, and she’s one of the most honest people I’ve ever known.”

Me: “I’ve known her for only the hour she was here earlier. I know I didn’t sell her a statue, so either she stole it or lost it.”

When the friend leaves, I mention to one of the other workers about the lady and suggest they keep an eye out for her. Even the manager of the shop commented:

Manager: “Why would you believe she’s an honest person, just because another complete stranger tells you she is?”

I’m working in a cellphone retail store in a fairly small town in Texas, so my manager and I can usually recognize our customers. One day, however, a lady walks in whom I do not recognize whatsoever. I figure she’s probably looking to switch over as she’s looking at the new iPhones and our rate plan sheets.

Me: “Yes, ma’am, how can we help you today?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like to get this new iPhone and add some more hotspot to my line.”

Me: “Okay, I can definitely get that started for you. Do you have service with us right now?”

Customer: “Yes.”

I’m thinking that at this point, she probably just uses autopay or gets her stuff done online.

Me: “Alrighty, what’s your phone number?”

Customer: *Gives number.*

The number does not show up in our database.

Me: “Ma’am, can you repeat that back one more time? I may have missed a digit.”

Customer: *Repeats the same exact number.*

Me: “And this number is with [our cell company]?”

Customer: “YES!”

Me: “Okay, can I see your phone real quick? I’m gonna try and look you up by the IMEI of your phone.” 

Now our system does glitch out sometimes, but I’m pretty sure at this point that something isn’t adding up on her end. Sure enough, when I scroll through “about phone”:

Me: “Ma’am, it says here that you have service with [Completely different cell company].”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “Were you looking to start service with us today?”

Customer: “No, I already have service, thanks.” *Storms out*

I should point out, the customer in question was not elderly, did not have any language barriers in place, and appeared to be both sane and sober. Even my manager, who has been here for eons, was looking at me afterwards with a very befuddled expression.

My doctor’s office has two front desk staff: another person and me. My coworker was taking appointment calls, and I got to hear this fun conversation this afternoon.

Coworker: *Answers phone.* “[Clinic], how can I help you?”

Patient: “I wanted to get an appointment with [Provider]. What’s the earliest you have?”

Coworker: “She has something available in December on [date]. Have you seen us before?”

Patient: “I have. My name is [garbled name].”

Coworker: “Um … you said Dingleberry? Okay, what’s your date of birth?”

Patient: “January 1st, 1970. Wait, what did you say my last name is?”

Coworker: “Dingleberry, right?”

Patient: “No … my last name is Carson.”

Coworker: “Oh! I apologize, I don’t know where I got Dingleberry from.”

Patient: *Snickers heavily.* “That’s fine. I’ll take that appointment.”

Coworker: *After hanging up.* “That’s funny, how did I get Dingleberry and Carson mixed up? *Sees me staring at her.* “What even is a Dingleberry anyway?”

And that is how my coworker found out she’d unintentionally called a patient a rude word!

This is an old story, from over twenty years ago. We haven’t done so for quite a while, but my family used to take part in the Black Friday craziness every year.

I’ve heard a woman get tased by the police, seen a shelf of products come crashing down as a crowd hit it like a tidal wave, and witnessed some college students leapfrog over the crowd to grab a gaming console, but I’ve never seen any of the stereotypical violence or trampling you would hear about every year. The closest would be the following story.

I was about eight, and my family was in a now largely defunct toy store franchise shopping for Christmas gifts for my cousins. My mom sent me off on my own to try and get a toy truck for one cousin (as an adult, I now question her judgment here).

This store location happened to be a large warehouse-type building, with ceilings reaching up to twenty to thirty feet tall. I made it to where the toy in question was located, and there was a large crowd as it was one of the ‘hot’ items for that year. Presumably, all the reachable trucks had already been grabbed, so a young employee was climbing a tall ladder to reach the items stored on higher shelves as people lined up at the bottom of the ladder.

The craziness started when I suppose someone got tired of waiting for the teenage girl to climb the ladder up and down, and instead started shaking the ladder as soon as she had the toy in her hand.

Naturally, she dropped the truck to grab the ladder and steady herself. The person shaking caught the box as it fell and walked off without a concern. Eventually, the employee collected herself enough to grab another truck, and the next person started to shake the ladder! The same thing happened as they walked off, and next in line stepped up; no one seemed to care!

At this point, I was terrified. I didn’t want to see the employee fall. And being only eight, I figured that, and even if I obtained the toy, I wouldn’t put it past one of these adults to just take it from me. So, I bowed out and left, making my way back to my mom and shakily explaining what happened. We quickly left and never went back to that store.

All in all, I have fond memories of Black Fridays with my family, but I’m glad I get to stay home and browse online these days.