(I am a plus-size female in my 20s, and I work at a thrift shop where I’m often the only person working the front of the store in the mornings. I check out an elderly man who is just buying a single chair. It’s heavily marked down and displayed on the sidewalk because it’s the last one of the set. The chair is part wicker and part metal, and while it’s heavier than you’d expect, it’s still completely manageable. It’s also comfortable outside, but I have trouble regulating body temperature, so I’m visibly sweaty.)

Me: “Thanks for shopping with us and supporting our mission. Have a good one!”

Customer: “Sweetie, you’ve been great. I’ll be sure to ask for you next time. Now, can someone help an old man get a chair into his car?”

Me: “Absolutely. If you pull your car up to the curb, I can help with that, no problem. It’s pretty slow right now, so I can step away from the register.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I don’t want you out there! It’s far too warm, and I can’t let you do that to yourself! And besides… Well, anyway, just call someone else, sweetheart.”

Me: “It’s really no trouble, sir. I can probably get you loaded and out of here before someone in the back could even get out here.”

(In the end, he flat-out refused my help, though he was still very sweet about it. I called someone, and after helping him, my coworker reassured me that he was just very old-fashioned but completely meant well. It’s the first time something like this has happened to me, but I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’m mostly laughing it off because not only am I the one who put the chair outside that morning, but I lifted two of them at once and carried them from the back of the store on my first day working there about a month ago!)

(I come back from lunch and find groceries from the market in our shopping center on the counter next to my register. My coworker allowed a woman to leave them there. I’m skeptical on whether it’s a good idea, but I look in one bag and just see bread and cookies, so I just shrug and move on, thinking the customer knows what she bought and whether it could spoil. Eventually my coworker moves them under the counter. The customer finishes her shopping about 45 minutes later and cheerfully asks for her groceries. When I pull them out, it’s pretty clear that something is not right and something is starting to go off. We discover she had shrimp and salmon in one of the bags and it had started to thaw.)

Customer: “Oh, dear, what’s wrong? Did I buy expired shrimp? What’s today’s date? Did I buy bad shrimp? Should I take it back? Did I buy expired shrimp?”

Coworker: “Uh, it’s [date].”

Customer: “Oh, well, I guess it isn’t bad… Wait, are you sure that’s the date? Ah, actually I know that’s right… So, I guess it’s not bad, then? Hmm.”

(We stand in silence for a moment. I worry the lady is going to finally drop her cheery attitude and get upset. Instead, she just shrugs.)

Customer: “Well, I didn’t buy bad seafood. I suppose it is shrimp, after all! I better go. It is shrimp!” *laughs*

(She leaves with a smile on her face, even carrying spoiling seafood. I turn to my coworker in shock and we finally exhale. Worst part? The customer was wearing medical scrubs. I hope I never need her help.)

Me: “Wow. Just wow.”

(I work at a thrift shop. For our Halloween season, we have our own merchandise for sale; that is, it’s not used or a donation. We have already set up our Halloween section, as it’s the busiest time of year for us. I’m working as a “Costume Consultant,” which means it’s my job to help customers find their perfect costumes. I see a customer looking at some costumes and looking confused.)

Me: “Hello! Did you need any help in Halloween today?”

Customer: “Yes, I was looking at these costumes.”

Me: “No problem! Was there something else you wanted to add to your costume, or did you have a question about the product?”

Customer: “I was wondering if there was a bigger size.”

(I go to look through the costumes for the sizes, when I notice in big block letters along the front it says, “ONE SIZE FITS MOST.”)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, but there is only one size for this costume. If you’d like, you can take it to the fitting rooms to try on.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I just came from the fitting rooms. It’s too tiring to try it on again. Just find me the biggest one.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but these are all the same size. There isn’t a ‘bigger’ one.”

Customer: “I know that you guys have a bigger one! I can’t possibly fit into these ones!”

(The customer is not overweight by any means, and the costumes are fairly stretchy.)

Me: “I’m certain you can wear these ones. I have bigger hips and bust than you do, and I wore this costume last year.”

Customer: “No, we’ll just have to look through all of them.”

(The customer then takes every costume off the rack, and stretches them all out to see which one is “the biggest.”)

Me: “Ma’am, I would appreciate if you didn’t stretch the fabric so tight. It could tear. Now, I can promise you, on my life, that these are all the same.”

Customer: “Well, I guess I’ll go with this one. It’s the biggest.”

(The customer then just walked away. I was left standing there, confused.)

Lots of people come into our thrift store looking for Halloween costumes because we have not only things people have donated, but also a collection of new items like wigs, accessories, and even bagged full costumes we sell cheaply, as well. One day not long before Halloween, we were having our monthly “super sale” where pretty much everything in the store is half-price, so it was understandably a zoo.

For the last half-hour of my shift, I was asked to work on our dressing rooms. I went to put a few dresses away and happened upon quite a scene. I found a man trying on a dress over his clothing in the middle of the store. He was at least six feet tall and plenty sturdy, so not shockingly, he’d gotten himself stuck. The dress was bunched up around his chest and two women were attempting to get the dress off him over his head, but it was stuck over his arms.

It had been a really long day and I was exhausted and more than ready to leave, so when I saw this happening, I stopped, blinked a few times, hung up the dresses I was carrying, and said aloud, “No. Just no,” before walking away, shaking my head. By their laughter as I left, I took it that I didn’t need to go get help and they had it under control.

Later, I found him trying on a different dress. He was stuck again, but the ladies he had been with were not around. He looked at me sheepishly, smiled, and told me not to worry about it. Not long after, he came to me, not stuck, and asked where he could find a wig. I showed him a couple places to look and left because my shift was thankfully over. I hope he found what he needed and the rest of his shopping trip was uneventful.

If not, I guess I’ll hear about it when I go into work next week.

(I work as a sales associate in a thrift store. One day I look over to see a customer walk into one of our fitting rooms and I suddenly remember that I have to tell her something. I walk over and open her door wide enough for me to stick my head in and talk to her. After I finish and close it back, I turn around to see my manager looking horrified. I stand there confused for a few seconds before I figure it out and quickly explain.)

Me: “Oh, no, it’s not what you think! She’s my mom!”

Manager: *looking relieved* “Oh, thank God… I was just about to have a long talk with you.”