When I was at university, I took a Woman’s Studies course. We had a paper to write about gender differences within the toy industry and early childhood development.

My childhood dream of spending three and a half hours in a toy store was way less fun when I realized it as an adult.

For our paper, we had to go to a toy store and make a detailed map of the entire store  — which sections were next to which other sections, etc. Then, we had to go and find two items in each section and rate them on four different criteria. Finally, we had to go and ask a store employee to give advice on what toy we should get for a fictional four-year-old boy/girl.

I went to a now bankrupt big box toy store. I had a clipboard, and I first went around and made a detailed map of the store. Then, I went back and created my itemized list and started categorizing two toys per section in each of the four criteria. As you can imagine, this took quite a while.

Occasionally, as I was doing my task, people would ask me questions. Since I had just made a map, I was able to answer quite a few of their questions.

Me: “The stuffed animals, ma’am? That’s aisle four, right next to the doll houses.”

Me: “You’re looking for a microscope? That would be in educational toys in the far right corner of the store, next to the grow-your-own crystal set.”

One customer asked:

Customer: “Where are the tricycles? And the bicycles?”

I promptly told them the difference between each section. They went to look and came back.

Customer: “Can you get me a different color from the back?”

Me: “Oh, I don’t actually work here. I’m just a student doing a project.”

They rolled their eyes and left in a huff, and I could tell that they thought I was just a lazy employee with a clipboard.

Customer: “This scooter I got from you guys is broken!”

Me: “How is it broken, ma’am?”

Customer: “No matter how hard I try, the handlebars always turn. This is a safety risk because my kid could ride into the curb or something!”

Me: “The handlebars are supposed to turn. That’s how the scooter… well… turns.”

Customer: “Not acceptable! I’m returning it!”

She returned the scooter and then went looking for another scooter that wasn’t “broken.” I’m assuming that she was very disappointed.

A kid comes up to the customer service counter.

Kid: “I want to return this.”

He slides across a Game Boy Advance game.

Me: “What’s the problem with it?”

Kid: “I finished it.”

I work as a toy shop cashier and shop assistant with a twelve-hour workday schedule. Our boss, my coworkers, and I have a deal that we usually just change on the register each day, and that the one attending the register that day will solely focus on it and will leave tasks around the store for the others.

Alongside toys, we also sell stationery and maternity supplies, including prams, baby walkers, and high chairs.

It was late afternoon, around the time that we’d usually schedule a quick afternoon break. One of my coworkers was on sick leave that day, so I was all alone on the floor at the time. Usually, when a customer asks for directions, I try to navigate them with words rather than leading them to the dedicated aisle as I usually would if I had a backup coworker with me.

A pair of younger soon-to-be-parents came in and headed straight toward our pram display. At the same time, a very nice and patient elderly man came up to me.

Elderly Man: “Could you demonstrate one of your RC cars for me?”

As I was changing the batteries in the car, the man from the aforementioned couple came by.

Young Man: “Could you show me how to fold one of the prams?”

I gave him a quick brief, explaining what and where needed to be pulled and pressed, but it was no good.

Young Man: *Annoyed and arrogant* “Could you go and just show me?”

Me: *Politely* “I’m currently busy, and I’m the only one on the floor at the moment, so I’m not permitted to leave the register. But I’ll be able to help you in about five minutes when my coworker’s break is over.”

Still no good. He stepped up a notch and raised his voice.

Young Man: “What is preventing you from just showing me real quick?!”

Elderly Man: “I don’t mind waiting.”

My coworker, who was also coincidentally the shop manager, overheard our argument and rushed back to see what was going on. And when I briefed him about what was ensuing, this younger man realised he was the manager and promptly said:

Young Man: “I would like to complain about this young lady’s unwilling attitude to help a customer!”

My manager just nonchalantly replied:

Manager: “This young lady hasn’t breached a single code of conduct of our company. She’s currently preoccupied and would’ve been taming the shop alone until recently. Now, how may I help you?”

I could see the one vein on this guy’s forehead showing as he raged back to his lover and they both promptly stormed out of the shop.

I am working for a now-defunct toy superstore. A woman comes in carrying her child. She is best described as overly-chatty.

Mother: “I need a loud toy for my baby! He’s almost one. The louder and more obnoxious the better!”

Me: “Oh! Well, I—”

Mother: “It’s for a wedding, you see.”

Me: “A wedding, well—”

Mother: “The couple has the gall — the gall! — to say that no children are allowed at the wedding! Can you believe that?!“

Me: “Well, I guess that—”

Mother: “So, I’m gonna teach those people a lesson! Not only am I bringing my baby, but he’s going to make so much noise they will regret discriminating against me as a mother!”

Me: “I’m not sure that—”

Mother: “It’s hard enough being a mother these days! And now this! It’s violating my rights!”

And with that, she stormed off to find something noisy and wedding-ruiny.

I heard she spoke to a coworker demanding to know why they don’t make mini drum kits for one-year-olds.

Related:
The Biggest Baby Here Isn’t The Toddler