We usually only have a manager and two sellers. One of those sellers is also designated cashier.

I’m the cashier this morning, and we aren’t very busy. Suddenly, I have a small line of about four people, the other seller has to help someone in the fitting room, and my manager has to go to the back to accept shipment. There is no one to cover the floor and definitely no one to help me ring up.

I’m ringing out [Customer #1]’s decently-sized purchase and [Customer #2] right behind her starts sighing loudly and sucking her teeth.

[Customer #2] then comes up to the counter next to [Customer #1] and slams her stuff down.

Customer #2: “Isn’t there anyone else who can ring?”

Me: “Actually, no. Unfortunately, I’m the only one available as my coworker is assisting a customer in the fitting room and my manager had to go to the back to accept shipment. We’re not busy on Thursday mornings, as you can see, so we normally only have three people working. But thank you so much for being patient; I really appreciate it.”

[Customer #2] looked shocked and said a small, “Oh,” right as I finished up with [Customer #1].

I was expecting [Customer #2] to continue to be rude, because that’s how it usually goes, but she actually apologized and said she hurt her back at the gym, so standing there for so long — she was in line for maybe two minutes, max — was hurting. Either way, it was nice to have a customer actually apologize for their behavior.

Related:
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 14
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 13
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 12
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 11
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 10

A Yeoman in the navy is a person that performs office duties, whether a man or a woman. During the 1980s, most offices used IBM Selectric type typewriters; they use a font ball to type letters, and if you want to change font, you change the font ball.

I am sitting in the ship’s office one day with a couple of others waiting to go over our annual evaluations with my division officer. There are two yeomen working in the office typing reports. One is male and the other female.

Male Yeoman: *To the other yeoman* “Do you have an OCR font ball?”

Female Yeoman: “No, I think we have just the two balls between us.”

The city puts a notice sign up on my street announcing that they’ll be doing road work tomorrow, and the street will be closed to all but local traffic from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm. I make sure to leave my house by 7:30 am.

Fast forward to 6:00 pm. I’m driving home from work when I see city trucks blocking half the entrance to my street, and approximately ten workers standing around talking. I can see the notice sign peeking out from behind the truck. There aren’t any barriers blocking the street, so I hit my turn signal. One of the workers runs toward my car and motions for me to stop. I stop and roll down my window.

Me: “Yes?”

Worker: “You can’t go down there.”

Me: “I live here. I can show you my ID.”

He shakes his head.

Worker: “You can’t go.”

Me: “Your sign says, ‘Local traffic only.’ I am local traffic. I live about 500 feet away. Literally, right there.”

I point to my house.

Worker: “We’re not done.”

Me: “All I see is a completely unchanged road and ten guys standing around doing nothing.”

Worker: “We’ll be done in about two hours. Come back then.”

Me: “Two hours?! Listen, I left my house at 7:30 this morning because your stupid sign said, ‘Local traffic only from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm.’ I am local traffic, and my clock says it’s 6:00. Go check your sign. It’s right behind your truck. Conveniently moved out of sight, of course.”

The worker opens his mouth and then closes it.

Me: “Go check. I’ll wait. I’ve got a full tank of gas.” 

I put the car in park and fold my arms. He goes to check the sign, sighs, and comes back. Without a word, he moves aside and waves me through.

Me: “That’s what I thought.”

For those who are curious, there wasn’t another way into the neighborhood — one way in, one way out. The next day, there was a sign up with altered hours of 10:00 am to 7:00 pm, but then they showed up at 8:00 am. Thankfully, I had the day off!

I’m standing in the back of a store waiting for someone to help me make a payment on my layaway. They’ve been taking over twenty minutes and I’m pretty frustrated. I distract myself with my phone and just lean on one of the cashier counters. Up comes a man with a cart full of items. I’m wearing a black and red shirt with a large Superman symbol over the chest, jean shorts, and sandals.

Customer: “So, can I just pay for my stuff here?”

I look up and stare at him with disbelief for a few seconds.

Me: “I… don’t work here.”

Customer: “Really?”

Me: “Yup. Superman shirt, shorts, sandals, no vest… I’m not an employee.”

Customer: “Oh, so you need a [Store] shirt to work here?”

Me: “Yes. I would think so.”

The customer walked away talking to himself about not knowing where to go.

I work at a business center within a grocery store. Most customers’ lost and found items come to us for safekeeping.

Customer: “I was at the self-checkout and I got money back but I was in such a hurry I forgot it in the machine.”

Me: “Okay, did you talk to the clerk of the self-checkout area? Sometimes they keep it until the end of the night.”

Customer: “He said to ask you.”

Me: “Okay! No problem! Let me ask my bookkeeper to see if she received anything.”

I go to ask the clerk and look in the drawer at the self-checkout desk just in case. I don’t find anything.

Mind you, this is on a really busy Friday evening. Most likely, someone behind him nabbed it. At that point, it’s out of our hands. This customer seems at wit’s end but is nice up until this point.

I come back empty-handed.

Me: “No, sir, it looks like it wasn’t found. I’m really sorry about that.”

Customer: “Okay, well, y’all can go f*** yourselves.”