(I am in traffic court for a speeding ticket. While there, I overhear this exchange:)

Judge: “Mr. [Ticketee], you had a citation for driving without insurance. Do you now have proof of insurance?”

Ticketee: “Yes, right here. I had insurance at the time I was stopped, but didn’t have the proof with me.”

(The judge takes some papers from him.)

Judge: “Okay, you were driving a [Make, Model, and Year of Car] at the time?”

Ticketee: “Yes.”

Judge: “The insurance information you just gave me is for a [totally different vehicle], and the name listed on the policy is not yours.”

Ticketee: “It’s my friend’s insurance.”

Judge: “How does that help you in this case?”

Ticketee: “I didn’t think you would look closely.”

(I work at a popular grocery store, and typically I’m a cashier for the apparel department. A man and his young daughter show up at my register and I start checking them out. The man has a pair of clearance [Brand] shoes.)

Customer: “Now, I know there aren’t any coupons that work on [Brand]… but I found this.”

(He shows me that there is a small knot in one of the laces.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sure the knot will come out just fine if you use something small like some tweezers to untie it.”

Customer: “I don’t know. It looks awfully tight.”

Me: “How about I give it a try?”

(I have short nails and have spent some time previously untangling several necklaces; I’m not concerned. He watches me start to loosen the knot and seems to get nervous.)

Customer: “Oh, you got it loose? Okay. Well then, we’ll take them; don’t worry about it.”

(I offered to finish, but he declined and he paid for everything. Later, my PIC said it sounded like he probably tied the knot in the shoelace himself.)

(It’s getting close to closing time, and the store is mostly empty except for one customer in the fitting rooms. She’s a middle-aged regular who is known to be high-maintenance, but she’s also generally been friendly about it, so it’s not too awful. At this point, however, she’s been here for ages, and we’re starting to hope she leaves soon so we can begin our closing procedures. My coworker goes back to tell her that we close soon, only to return several minutes later visibly frustrated.)

Coworker: “She wants an extra discount on her stuff, because apparently [Manager] always gives her one, but everything she picked out is on clearance.”

Me: “What?!”

Coworker: “I know! I tried to tell her we can’t do that, but she won’t listen.”

Me: “Ugh, well, I guess we’ll deal with it when she gets up here?”

([Coworker] and I agree to just deal with it at the counter, and we resume waiting for the customer to get out. And waiting. And waiting. Despite several reminders that we’re closing, she doesn’t come out until it’s basically exactly time to close. Both my coworker and I are beyond done at this point; we’re tired, we want to go home, and we don’t want to get in trouble for staying too late past closing. The mall makes our store pay more rent if we stay after hours, which the owners of the store don’t want, but we still are both trying to keep a polite facade as we ring her up as quickly as possible.)

Me: “Your total is [price].”

Customer: “Oh, I’m from Canada; the lady always gives me a discount — 20% off.”

(True, we have been giving discounts to customers from across the border — we live less than an hour away – -because their dollar has been down and we want to encourage business, but…)

Me: *internally sighing* “Yes, we can do that on regular-price items, but these are already 60 to 70% off, so we use the higher discount.”

Customer: “But I always get an extra discount; I come here every weekend.”

Me: “And I’d give you the discount on a regular-priced item, but as I said, these are already significantly marked down, so I can’t lower them anymore.”

Customer: “Please? Just ten percent.”

(This goes back and forth for some time, with both me and my coworker telling her the same thing over and over, and trying to explain that we can’t lower the prices because we’ll lose money. It’s now five minutes past closing. We’re still being as polite as we can, but quickly running out of patience. And then:)

Customer: *literally pouting* “Please? Just a little bit? Please? Please?”

([Coworker] and I look at each other, dumbfounded, in between saying no to each beg and plead. It’s five minutes past closing and she’s begging for an extra discount on something that’s already 70% off.)

Me: *patience completely gone* “Look. I’m very sorry, but I can’t make it any less than it already is. If my manager were here, she could possibly give you the extra discount, but since she’s not here and I don’t have her explicit permission, I can’t do it. I could get fired.”

(That’s a lie; I would get a reprimand, at most, but both my coworker and I have had it up to here with her and I’m willing to try anything. [Coworker] goes along with it and corroborates my story. It finally does the trick. The customer grudgingly accepts the prices, and we finish ringing her up. She leaves, we lower the grate, and start cleaning up and closing the till… and guess who didn’t properly hang up all the clothes she tried on and didn’t want?)

Coworker: “Seriously?! Who does this?! We could be done by now if she had just accepted the prices! And who begs like that, anyway? That’s just embarrassing!”

Me: “Right?! And if you need the discount so bad, maybe don’t drive down to the states every weekend! It might help save your money!”

Coworker: “We don’t even get new stock every week, so what’s the point?”

Me: “Exactly!”

(We’ve seen her a few times since then; she still comes in pretty regularly, often during my shift with this same coworker. She’s been a lot more polite lately, though. I think she realized that she can talk her way into a bigger discount with the manager, but not with me and my coworker, and has thankfully stopped trying.)

Related:
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 9
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 8
Don’t Discount The Customer’s Ability To Discount, Part 7

A few months ago, I took my little sister grocery shopping at a place we’d known since our childhood. I was on a tight budget, but I was happy to spend time with her, so we added a few more items than I could really afford. When we got to the register, I realized I was over a few dollars. Removing a few items got me down to where I was only a few cents over budget, and as I paid, I searched for those extra cents that would cover the rest.

Not finding them, I grabbed my card, only to be presented with the receipt and a smile. The cashier had covered it out of her own pocket. Thinking about it now brings a lump to my throat, and thanks to her generous spirit, I recovered my dwindling faith in humanity.

(I work in maintenance. I’m cleaning a spill as this occurs.)

Customer: “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You’re cleaning a gross mess.”

Me: “Well, yes. I’m maintenance.”

Customer: “But you’re a lady. Ladies shouldn’t clean gross messes unless it’s for their kids. They should get a man to do your job.”

Me: *speechless until she left*