(We have just recently changed the store around, so many people are getting confused as to where stuff is. This older gentleman comes in and is looking at the videos, but looks really confused.)

Me: “Is there anything I can help you find today?”

Customer: *in a very thick Irish accent* “Why the f*** did you ask me that? Do I look like a f****** thief to you? All you Canadians are the same and so rude!”

Me: “I’m sorry I offended you, sir, I was just asking, as we recently rearranged the store, so I thought you may need some help.”

Customer: “I don’t care. You are so f****** rude! They don’t do that where I come from!”

(He walks out. I then have a regular customer come up:)

Regular: “What the h*** was his problem?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess he didn’t like me being polite and trying to help him.”

(At our thrift store, we take donations of gently-used items and resell them. We are quite popular, often having to limit donations to five bags or boxes of items simply because so much comes through. A woman drives up with a trailer load.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have a limit of five boxes of items, so we won’t be able to take it all today.”

Woman: *immediately angry* “Are you kidding me?!”

Coworker: “I’m afraid not. We get so much stuff that we just can’t take it all. We’re also limiting what we can take.”

Woman: “What do you mean?!”

Coworker: “Well, ma’am, it’s currently July. We can’t take any of that Christmas stuff. We don’t have the shelf space to store it for the next five or six months. We also can’t take disassembled furniture or gas-powered items. It’s a liability issue.”

Woman: “Well, you can just make an exception for me!”

(She starts trying to drag items out of the back of her truck, but my coworker immediately seizes every box she drops on the ground and simply tosses it back into her pickup.)

Me: “Actually, ma’am, no we can’t. We do have a list of other places you can go who would be happy to take—“

Woman: “I DO NOT WANT TO DRIVE AROUND ALL DAY ON A SATURDAY LOOKING FOR PEOPLE TO TAKE THIS!” *to my coworker* “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! STOP THAT!”

Coworker: *now cross and no longer polite* “Well, ma’am, if you don’t want to be inconvenienced, what makes you think we want to be? I’m refusing to take any of your things now. If you dump anything else on our property, I will call the police with your license number.”

Woman: “I want to talk to your manager!”

Coworker: “Go right ahead. Her name is [Manager], and you can talk to her by going to the front door and asking for her.”

(He closes the door in her face. I’m gaping at him, but he just smiles.)

Coworker: “[Manager] put those restrictions on, and I know I won’t be fired. I handle furniture pickups and deliveries. I also manage the sporting goods, power tools, and the entire half of the store dedicated to furniture. [Manager] would have to hire three or more people to replace me and we both know it. She also told me not to take crap from entitled people.”

Manager: *walking by a few minutes later* “Got a complaint about you from some lady about a big trailer of stuff. I told her that your judgment is law at the donation door. She didn’t like that.”

(My manager shared a smirk with my coworker and wandered away.)

(I am covering the shop for my mom while she has a doctor’s appointment. Her boss/friend is more than okay with that, and tells me if a customer is rude that I can give it right back to them. The shop is more of a side project so it isn’t a big deal. I am at the counter, tagging and folding some clothes that just got dropped off, when I hear the front door slam open.)

Woman: “There is a pile of dog-s*** out here and I stepped in it! My shoes are now ruined!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Sadly, it happens quite frequently here.”

Woman: “I demand to be compensated! I can’t wear these now and they cost over $500 dollars! What are you going to do to make this right!?”

Me: “…I can sell you some shoes?”

(Cue angry screaming and door slamming closed. When I went out to lock up for the day, I saw the rather huge pile of dog poop on the ground. The woman had decided to wipe/rub her shoes against the entire front half of the shop. I told my boss. She just laughed.)

(I work in a thrift store, and we just got a new manager who has decided that she will help our store do “better” by rearranging the store and “fixing some problems.” One of these fixes involves taking away two of my shelves and two of my purse racks, claiming they were flimsy and about to fall over. She doesn’t give me any new shelves to replace them. With a reduced display, I am forced to take product off the floor and stash it in our limited space.)

Me: “[Manager], I need those shelves to display my product.”

Manager: “No, you can sell just fine with the ones you have left. I was hired to improve your numbers from month to month, and by rearranging your space, your area looks more open and like a boutique.”

Me: “But I can’t put out product as well as I could before. I’m literally selling less volume, because some things simply cannot be put out on the floor.”

Manager: “You’ll do fine. And I need you to stop being so negative about my ideas. I will improve the store’s image as well as their numbers if you’ll just stop arguing with me and go along with my plans. We will make more money!”

Me: “How?!“

Manager: “You’ll see…”

(I am not looking forward to next month’s numbers after trying to sell product with only two-thirds of the space to display it.)

(I am volunteering for a small thrift shop to gain work experience and get hours to graduate. This is my first time working in retail and it’s my first day. My supervisor has me folding t-shirts for the free basket. After I’ve just spent thirty minutes folding all the t-shirts and putting them neatly into the basket, two women approach me while I’m hanging scarves.)

Women #1: “Are those t-shirts free?”

Me: “Yup! Help yourself.”

(I then watch as they proceed to grab and unfold every t-shirt. They take two and leave a mess behind.)

Supervisor: *as I’m folding the shirts again* “They mess up your hard work?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Supervisor: *laughing* “Welcome to retail!”