My best friend and I are at the mall, intending to buy a recently released console accessory. We chat a bit as we line up at the desk. A tall clerk waves us over and greets us with a moderate Slavic accent.

Me: “Hey, do you have any of those new [accessories]?”

Cashier: “We do. Do you want just the one?”

Me: “Yes, thanks! Man, I was worried there’d be none left!”

He rummages around in the cupboard behind the registers but can’t find any.

Cashier: “Don’t worry. We have more in the back.”

Me: “Not a problem at all; take your time.”

He leaves, and I turn to see my friend staring bug-eyed at me.

Me: “What?”

Friend: “Bro, what the h***?”

Me: “What?”

Friend: “Were you… were you not doing that on purpose?”

Me: *Confused* “Doing what?”

Friend: *Incredulous* “[My Name], you copied his accent. Really, really badly.”

The interaction plays out again in my head and I realise that I did exactly that! The mounting horror must show on my face, because my friend start to crack up.

Friend: “Why did you do that? How didn’t you notice?!”

Me: “I don’t know!”

The cashier comes back with the gadget. I pay and mumble a quick thanks before scrambling out of the store.

Me: “Oh, my God! I even greeted him normally, so he must have known! Did he not notice, or does he get that so much he just puts up with it? Oh, man, I was a total a**hole! [Friend], you’re not allowed to tell anyone!”

Sorry, cashier buddy!

Related:
In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You

I work for a well-known video game retail chain. I’m sitting in my car having my lunch when I see one of our regular customers park a few spaces farther from the building than I am, maybe four or five rows back from the entrance. I groan when I see her, because she is one of our “I am entitled to everything” types and generally difficult to deal with. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize she is approaching the cell provider next door, carrying a handful of accessories and cables and likely planning to make somebody else’s day difficult rather than mine.

Just as she puts her foot up on the sidewalk in front of their door, she pauses, looks back over her shoulder, marches all the way back to her car, and moves it several spaces closer into the disabled parking space she had just noticed was empty.

This lady seriously walked all the way to the building and back to her car before taking a space somebody else might have needed, just because she believed she was saving herself a walk.

I’m the manager of a local video game store. I’ve run it with no real problem for years and recently decided to expand to a couple of major card games. A few months after I do so, I have a guy come in to trade in a handful of singles. I’m a female in my late twenties, though I’ve been told I look younger.

Customer: “I wanna see what these are worth.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll check out what they’re worth on the computer.”

I check their values. Unfortunately, while the cards are neat, they’re not worth more than a few dollars total. I bring them back over to the counter.

Me: “So, it looks like I can give you [low amount] for these.”

Customer: “No, one of those alone is worth [higher amount].”

Me: “I went through and got the values for all of them. This one here is worth the most at [amount].”

Customer: “I want your boss to check, not some eye candy cashier.”

One of my regulars, who’s nearby on a demo machine, overhears. He’s very obviously trying not to laugh.

Me: “You want the manager?”

Customer: “Yeah! You obviously did something wrong!”

Me: “Sure.”

I go into the back, where my boyfriend is working on some inventory. He technically doesn’t work for me, but he pitches in sometimes when it’s busy. I tell him someone wants to speak to a manager after I helped them. My boyfriend rolls his eyes and comes out to the counter.

Boyfriend: “Is there an issue here?”

Customer: “Yeah, your s***ty cashier lowballed me on my cards. I know they’re worth more!”

Boyfriend: “Are these the cards?”

Customer: “Yeah!”

My boyfriend takes them and checks them, again, on the computer. He comes back and sets them on the counter.

Boyfriend: “They’re worth [low amount] total. What did she tell you?”

Customer: “There’s no way you guys are gonna give me a s*** offer like that. I wanna talk to the owner! Call him!”

The regular now just bursts out laughing. The card guy turns to look at him.

Customer: “What’s so d*** funny?!”

Regular: “You dumb f***! She is the owner!”

The card guy looks at me.

Customer: “No way. She’s too young and too d*** stupid to run a place like this!”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, you know what? I don’t think we need these cards.” 

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “Yeah, I’m gonna take back my offer. You could always try eBay.”

He looks like he’s about to yell at us, but then he picks up his cards and leaves. My boyfriend shakes his head and heads back into the back room.

Regular: “D***, I love this place.”

Related:
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 6
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 5
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 4
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 3
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 2

It’s a slow evening shift and it’s just my assistant manager and me in the store. My assistant manager is currently sitting on the ground behind our register area opening up boxes with merchandise to restock our shelves; it’d be difficult to see her. I, however, am standing in plain view for guests to see me and ask me any questions.

One woman starts heading in our direction and I get ready to answer any questions she has… until she leans over our counter and looks at my assistant manager.

Customer: “Are you busy?”

Assistant Manager: *Surrounded by boxes, still on the floor* “Yes?”

I’m a manager at a video game store. I’m working with my coworker today, since it’s a busy weekend. As a woman, I’m used to occasional degrading comments but nothing too out of line. I’m also a lesbian, which is usually enough to deter guys from flirting with me too much.

We’re both working the register when a man comes in.

Customer: “Hey… Yeah, I wanna, uh, return this.”

He puts a single game down on the counter. It’s a cheap Xbox 360 game, something that’s probably been on a shelf for two years, but he has a receipt that’s within date, so I start the return.

Customer: “Yeah, I didn’t like it. It’s not fast enough for me, you know?”

Me: “Oh, yeah, I understand that. I usually go with [Popular Game] or something similar.”

Customer: “Oh, s***, you play games?! Like, actual games?!”

The way he says this makes me a little uncomfortable. Most people who work at the company are pretty serious gamers, regardless of gender. It would be weirder to find someone who DIDN’T play any popular release.

Me: “Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot of [New Release] lately. Did you want the return in cash, card, or store credit?” 

Customer: “Man, I bet you get all the dudes! You’d be like the perfect woman! Here, just put it back on my card.”

He spends a good five minutes getting his wallet out and then the card from the wallet. The entire time, he’s commenting on how I’m probably “high-demand” and “expensive but worth every penny.” I silently give him the refund and the return receipt.

Customer: “What time are you off? We could always play [Popular Game] over at my place, if you know what I mean.”

I’ve had enough.

Me: “Sir, I’m asking you to leave. Your transaction is done. Your behavior is wildly inappropriate.”

Customer: “What, hard to get? All right, I’ll leave.”

He makes his way out, complaining the whole time. It’s annoying, but I don’t think too much of it. I’m off soon after, and I head to get shopping done at a store across the walkway. When I walk in, I get a call from my coworker.

Coworker: “That dude from earlier followed you. He apparently was waiting outside our store. Be careful.”

I see the dude come in behind me. I ignore him at first, at least giving him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he’s also shopping at the store. Then, he comes straight over to me, getting uncomfortably close.

Guy: “What, still gonna pretend you’re not interested?”

Me: “Leave me the h*** alone or I’ll call security.”

Guy: “Oh, come on. We could have fun!”

Me: “Back off.” 

Guy: “You aren’t even giving me a chance, baby. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I pull out my phone and dial mall security. I quickly tell them I’m being followed and sexually harassed, and they say they’re sending a couple of guys my way. I try walking away from the creep, and he pulls me by my arm back over to him.

Guy: “Nah, not running away now. You can’t lose me!”

Me: “LET GO OF ME!”

This gets the attention of a few people nearby. He doesn’t let go but tries making comments like, “Oh, babe, you’re funny,” to throw off suspicion.

Me: “I don’t f****** know you!”

Security shows up. They tell him to let me go and come with them.

Guy: “What, I can’t try to pick up girls anymore? Is that a crime?”

Security: “Stalking and harassment are. You waited outside her store and followed her after she kicked you out.”

Guy: “What? No, she was flirting with me! Come on, you guys are really gonna ruin my chance like that?”

Security: “We know she didn’t ‘flirt’ with you. With us, sir.”

It turned out the guy had skipped a court date for another case of sexual harassment and assault. He was banned from the mall, but I decided not to press charges.