I’m working on repairing a large digital printer for an office when the power goes out one afternoon in a thunderstorm. I have gutted the thing and have parts spread out all over the floor. The lights are off, all computers are down, and this office worker walks up to me:
Worker: “I need you to make me a couple of copies.”
Me: “…um.”
I work as a grocery cashier. A customer tries to hand me a coupon that is FIVE YEARS out of date! To her credit, she isn’t belligerent or rude about it, just confused about why I won’t take it.
Customer: *Politely.* “May I speak to a manager?”
Manager: “Ma’am, we can’t take a coupon that expired five years ago.”
The icing on the cake was when she did seem surprised when the manager wouldn’t give her the coupon back, and she actually got a little upset when he threw it out – on my side of the till, so she couldn’t just reach over and grab it out of his hand.
Related:
The Couponator 33: The Double Cross
The Couponator 32: Attack Of The Rulebreaker
The Couponator 31: Saved By The Next Generation
The Couponator 30: Managerial Override
The Couponator 29: A Cents-less Tragedy
It’s 2020, and in the midst of the first lockdown. In order to keep us – and our customers – safe, our managers have decided to implement a rule which means we cannot take cash. The safe in the office is empty. We have no money in our till drawers. We cannot take it at all. There are signs all around the shop stating this (several on the front windows, two on the front doors, one on the hand sanitiser, on the fridge doors – basically everywhere). Still, we get customers who think they are an exception. With this, being berated for mask laws that aren’t our choice, and trying desperately to calm panic buyers who want a dozen packs of toilet rolls, we are fed up.
I am serving a line of people when a man comes to my till, scans through the shopping, and then tries to hand me a £20 note.
Me: “I’m very sorry, but we’re not accepting cash at the moment.”
Customer: “What?!”
Me: “We cannot accept cash. You can pay by card, or if you don’t have it on you I can pause the transaction and keep your shopping to the side while you get it.”
Customer: “Just take the money!”
Me: “I’m sorry, but we have no change to give you; we have no cash anywhere on the premises.”
Customer: “This is ridiculous and illegal! This whole rule is just a f****** disgrace and you should be ashamed of yourself! Just take the f****** cash and do your job!”
At this point, a supervisor who is standing nearby steps up beside me.
Supervisor: “I won’t tolerate you talking to anyone like that. We have no change in the drawers or anywhere in the shop. It is the manager’s rule, so either pay by card or just get out.”
The man silently paid by card and left, and I was honestly shocked. My supervisor was a friendly, fairly quiet guy who I had never heard talk back to anyone. It was just a sign of how fed up we all were with being verbally abused by customers. I quit retail not long after that. The icing on the cake was hearing how some of my younger colleagues, not long out of high school, had to be picked up from work after their night shift because a customer made them feel too afraid to walk home.
Back in the late 90s, I worked Saturdays at a stationers/newsagent (convenience store). It was a typical day, most of the customers were nice, but there were a lot of them, and I’d been on my feet for quite a while. In the queue was a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but certainly, within the range of asking for ID – you had to be over sixteen to buy cigarettes at the time.
Which I did. He didn’t have any, so I said I couldn’t serve him. He wasn’t happy, and shouted at me, then stormed off.
I assumed that was the end of it, and carried on with my work, serving customers, restocking the cigarette display, etc, when about half an hour later, he shows up again, cigarette in hand, and proceeds to blow smoke right in my face.
Customer: “See, I told you I was old enough.”
And with that he stormed off again, as I called after him:
Me: “It’s no smoking in the centre.”
Obviously, his having been served cigarettes elsewhere in no way proved his age. He just came across as incredibly immature and petty to come all the way back (the nearest other tobacco shop was outside of the shopping centre), just to blow smoke at a seventeen-year-old shop assistant.
CONTENT WARNING: Death
About ten years ago my grandfather passed away suddenly from a heart attack. I received the phone call as I got into my car to leave for work. I was completely blindsided by the news. In hindsight, I should’ve called out and not worked my shift, but being a teenager in a very poor family, I decided to tough it out to keep my younger siblings fed.
Less than an hour into my shift, a man came to the window to purchase gas. Our intercom wasn’t the best, so if the customer didn’t speak up, it made them difficult to understand. Without giving me the chance to even greet him, he threw a twenty-dollar bill in the tray and turned to walk away. As he turned away to walk to his truck, he said:
Customer: “Twenty dollars on pump [unintelligible].”
Not wanting to put his money on the wrong pump, I left the register and jogged out in the direction he walked to confirm which pump he was parked at. When I found him, he was already trying to pump his gas, and was becoming frustrated.
Customer: “Why isn’t this f****** thing working?”
Me: “Sorry, I didn’t hear which pump you were at when you paid, so I came out to see where you were parked.”
Customer: “Were you not paying attention? I told you I was on nine. Can you not f****** handle a minimum wage job that a monkey could do? Wake the f*** up!”
I was completely caught off guard by his hostility, and all I could think to do was apologize.
Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a problem for you. My grandpa just died, and I’m having a hard time processing it.”
Customer: “Grow up, man. People die every day. If you can’t handle someone dying, you might as well off yourself now, cause things aren’t going to get any easier for you. Now do your dumb f****** job and fix my f****** pump.”
I didn’t respond to his rant and just went back to the register.
While putting his money on the correct pump, I saw the man walking in circles, gesturing wildly, and talking on his phone. I couldn’t hear what was said, but after about thirty seconds the man stomped back to his truck and peeled out of the parking lot, completely forgetting about the money he left behind.
Rather than have an overage in my drawer, I sat the twenty-dollar bill to the side and hoped he wouldn’t return to look for it. About an hour from closing I decided to add the twenty to the pump of the next customer that I thought might really need it. It was risky, but after what had transpired earlier, I didn’t care.
About ten minutes to closing, a mother and several kids in a beat-up car pulled up to the pump closest to my window. Through the car’s side window, I could see that her and the kids were counting change, and I decided that they would be today’s lucky winners. After a few minutes, one of the kids came to the window with a dejected look and asked for $2.71 on their pump. I told the kid that I would take care of it, and to tell the mother to pump $22.71. The mother came to the window to ask what was going on, and I told her that it was just my way of doing something nice and that all I wanted in return was for her to pay it forward. She thanked me profusely and pumped the gas.
The man never did come back, and while that day may have been one of the worst days of my life, I did my best to make it a great day for someone else.
