A while ago, I was working the register and heard screaming at the other end of the store. I ran over to see what was happening. Two of our female Loss Prevention officers had stopped a shoplifter at the exit and she was screaming bloody murder at them. By this time, all the customers and employees had crowded to watch the show.

One LP officer reached out toward the shoplifter like she was going to try to grab the stolen merchandise back. Then, the shoplifter suddenly jumped up and tackled the LP officer to the ground. As the second LP officer stepped in to try to break up the fight on the ground, the two officers both started screaming in pain and the shoplifter ran out.

The rest of the employees and customers were freaking out, as the LP officers were screaming:

Officers: “I can’t see! I can’t see! Help! It burns!”

We thought we had witnessed an acid attack; it was awful.

Paramedics were called, and when the officers returned to work, we found out the shoplifter had sprayed mace in their faces.

She was only stealing $30 worth of clothes. That definitely goes down as one of the craziest days at work ever.

I am working late at a veterinary hospital and a note was left for the doctor. The phone rings, and I answer.

Me: “[Veterinary Hospital], my name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Owner: *Politely* “Hi there. I left a note for the doctor this afternoon and I haven’t heard back yet. My pet’s name is [Pet] and my last name is [Owner’s Last Name]. I was wondering if we could fill antibiotics for my pet?”

Me: “Okay, let me look that up for you!” *Typing* “Oh, I see the doctor won’t be in until tomorrow. Sorry about that. My coworker should have let you know! She’ll get back to you tomorrow, but I’ll let you know that standardly the doctor does require a recheck exam prior to filling antibiotics, especially since it’s been a couple months since we’ve seen the pet!”

Owner: *Silence*

Me: *Pauses* “Ma’am, did I lose you?”

Owner: *Suddenly angry* “No, I heard you, but that’s theft.”

Me: *Shocked* “What?”

Owner: “That’s theft to demand a recheck!”

Me: “Ma’am, I was letting you know so you have a realistic expectation of tomorrow’s call with the doctor and to see if you wanted to make the appointment.”

Owner: “That’s theft!”

Me: *Sternly, getting back my senses* “No, it is not.”

Owner: “Yes, it is!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you continue yelling at me, I will have to hang up.”

Owner: *Yelling* “I’m not yelling!”

Me: “Yes. You are.”

Owner: “I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow!” *Hangs up*

I have a five-year-old girl who is best of friends with my neighbors’ daughter. The two are inseparable. My wife bought our daughter a toy a few weeks ago as a reward for doing all her chores and being awarded “Student Of The Week” in her kindergarten class. She immediately took it over to the neighbor’s house, and the two girls loved to play with it. It’s one of those toys that come with accessories, slime, stickers, etc.

Since then, this particular toy has been featured on a very popular morning talk show and is now pretty hard to find. My daughter’s friend’s birthday is the day after Thanksgiving, and my daughter asked me if we could buy her best friend the same toy as her gift. We couldn’t say no to her request for her best friend, so we started looking online to see if we could find one. After a few days of no luck, a very popular big box store had some in stock at a store about thirty minutes away. I hit the road to try and get my hands on one before they were all gone.

This is what happened when I got there, and I still can’t believe it happened.

I got to the store, grabbed a shopping cart because I was going to grab a couple of other things while I was there, and walked straight to the toy department. I looked around for a few minutes before I finally saw the toy I was after. There was only one left, so I grabbed it and put it in my cart. I was so glad I finally found one. I started to walk away to continue shopping when I heard a voice behind me.

Woman: “Um, excuse me, but that toy was mine. I put it down and was coming right back for it. Do you mind?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I have been looking for this toy as a gift for a very special little girl, and it was on the shelf, so I’m sorry, but no. I’m going to buy it.”

She instantly shot daggers at me with her eyes.

Woman: “Excuse me?! I was here first and I need it more than you. I have a customer that ordered it and I need it now, so please hand it over.”

That’s when it struck me: she was a reseller and had promised something she didn’t have.

Me: “Oh, well, that’s not my problem, but maybe they have more in the back. You should ask someone that works here.”

I went about my way to finish my shopping. As I was walking away, the woman snipped:

Woman: “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

Me: *Sarcastically* “Maybe, but I got what I came for. Have an awesome day.”

And I walked away. I made my way to the laundry detergent aisle and quickly forgot about the woman. A few minutes later, as I grabbed some detergent and dryer sheets, I stopped to check what else was on my list, and the same woman entered the aisle.

Woman: “Ugh, there you are. Listen. I asked an employee, and they said there aren’t any in the back and they don’t know when more are coming in. I would appreciate it if you would do the right thing and just give the toy back to me before I find a manager and tell them you took it out of my hands.”

Me: “Huh? What are you talking about? This toy was on the shelf and nobody else was around when I picked it up, so please leave me alone. You can’t have it and that’s it.”

I tried to walk out of the aisle when this woman stepped in front of my cart, reached into my cart, and tried to take the toy. I quickly pulled the cart back.

Me: “What is your problem, lady? Get away from me.”

Then, she tried again, but this time I put my hand on the toy before she could grab it. She then dug her nails into my arm before I smacked her hand away with a loud:

Me: “WHAT THE F***, LADY?! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

This is when the woman went into overdrive. She instantly started screaming for help at the top of her lungs.

Woman: “HELP! HELP! HE’S ATTACKING ME! HELP ME, SOMEBODY!”

Naturally, a bunch of people quickly came over to see what was going on, and there I was, a 6’3” man with tattoos and a shaved head and beard standing there as she threw herself on the floor screaming for help. I thought to myself, “This is going to end badly for me.”

Two employees were a couple of aisles over and came running. Now there were a few people and the employees looking at this woman on the ground pleading for help and screaming for someone to call the police. The employee asked what happened while helping her up from the floor and she immediately lied.

Woman: “He attacked me and took items from my cart!”

Me: “This crazy lady is lying! She attacked me, and then she threw herself on the floor to get me in trouble.”

A manager showed up and asked what had happened while the woman was standing there with crocodile tears saying I had assaulted her over “her toy”. I quickly denied the false accusation and demanded the police be called. The manager had the police called and I waited right there. The lady had a crowd of people around her, consoling her, and they were all looking at me like I was some sort of woman beater. All the while, she was telling everyone around her what a monster I was and that she intended to press full charges against me for assault.

After ten or fifteen minutes, two police officers showed up and started to ask questions about what had happened. I explained what had happened from beginning to end, and she told her twisted fairy tale. The officers asked if the security cameras had a shot of the area. We were escorted to the manager’s office, and while one officer reviewed the footage with the manager, the other officer asked for our IDs and stepped out of the office — more than likely to do a warrant check, I assumed.

This is when glorious Karma showed up.

After a couple of minutes of the officer reviewing the camera footage and her continued lies about what happened, the officer asked the woman:

Officer #1: “Ma’am, I’m only going to ask this once. Would you like to change your story about what happened?”

I instantly smiled from ear to ear.

Woman: “What are you talking about? He attacked me and I want him arrested!”

Officer #1: “Ma’am, that’s not happening.” *To me* “Do you want to press charges for assault, sir?”

Me: “F*** YES!”

The woman went pale as a ghost. She went on a tirade. Just then, the second officer came back into the office, handed me back my ID, whispered something to the other officer, and then asked the woman to stand up and put her hands behind her back. They arrested her for an outstanding felony warrant along with an assault charge.

What an awesome outcome. The manager apologized to me for all the trouble as the woman was led out of the office in cuffs. The officer photographed the scratches on my arm for evidence, gave me a copy of the report for court, and wished me a nice rest of my day. The manager even gave me a $50 gift card that I used to pay for my purchase, and I went about my merry way.

All this over a toy and self-entitlement.

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It seems there is a trend of sticking googly eyes to things. It turns out some of these are really hard to remove and some of our adverts are thin sheets of paper stuck to a plastic board; removing the eyes destroys the board.

It is getting to be a real pain and costing the store some serious money. We start sweeping the store, and as soon as we find some, we check the cameras. It takes us a while to realise we have been looking for teenagers and adults, completely missing the nine-year-old boy who regularly comes in. He is there every time we find the eyes, sometimes the only one.

The next day the boy comes in, he’s told that we know what he’s been doing. He can only come in if he promises not to do it again. Instead, he turns and leaves.

A few hours later, he comes back with his mum.

Mum: “Why did you say my son couldn’t come in?”

Me: “He’s been caught damaging our display boards. He was told he could only come in if he promised he would stop.”

Mum: “He wouldn’t do anything like that! He’s nine!”

Me: “Sorry, but we’ve caught him on camera. We have had to throw dozens of boards away and spend hours removing his stickers.”

Mum: “He does travel stickers! I would know!”

Me: “They are sticky eyes.”

Mum: “Oh, them. Well, I don’t see what the problem is. They are just stickers.”

Me: “As I already said, they cause damage to the boards, and we’ve asked him to stop.”

Mum: “This is ridiculous! Let me talk to your manager.”

I grab him, and she goes on telling a twisted version painting her son as the next in line to be the Pope. The manager listens for a while before interrupting.

Manager: “So you’re admitting that your son has damaged hundreds of pounds’ worth of our equipment, and now you’re complaining when a member of staff asked him to stop?”

Mum: “That’s not at all what happened. It’s being blown out of proportion.”

Manager: “You can pay for the boards yourself or find another store to shop at.”

She spluttered, complained, and threatened to complain to corporate. My manager offered to manage it through the police if she really wanted to escalate it. The best part wasn’t seeing her leave but denying her service a week later when she tried to shop in disguise.

For about two years, I worked at a small gas station that was part of a Midwest supermarket.

I worked the evening shifts and doors were locked at twelve. I had to operate out of a rotating window and a faulty speaker, catering to boozy customers. The most memorable night I can recall is when I discovered that the lock on the door was faulty.

I found this out when a lady pushed her way into the store at 3:00 am. There were two feet of snow on the ground outside and she was wearing a micro-skirt, a bikini top, a fake fur jacket that stopped above her midriff, and Uggs. I say this not to shame her, but to illustrate the scene that followed.

The girl was obviously intoxicated, and I was pretty unnerved, not knowing what to do about the lady and thinking about how I could be fired for someone being in the building, even though it was not my fault.

After repeatedly telling the lady that she could not be in the building and that she had to go outside, which she ignored, she stumbled over to the nacho and chili stand.

Customer: “I want nachos! I can get this cheese, right?”

Me: “Uh, Yeah… I guess.”

At this point, I just wanted her to get what she wanted and leave.

She proceeded to fill up a whole nacho tray with cheese, and then she tottered toward my register. Halfway to my register, she spilled some cheese down her BARE stomach. She then proceeded to scoop some of the cheese off and lick it as though she was part of an X-rated film while staring drunkenly at me.

After this tasting, she looked confused and angry. She placed the chips and cheese on the counter in front of the register and proceeded to get mildly belligerent.

Customer: “You didn’t tell me this cheese had spice in it! I am allergic to spice! Why would you do this to me?”

Me: “Ma’am, all nacho cheese is mildly spicy. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but since you already dispensed it, you have to pay for it.”

Customer: “But I’m allergic to spice!”

She said this while scooping more of the cheese out of the tray and attempting to perform another X-rated gesture with her cheese-covered finger.

Me: “It comes out to [total]. Is that all you want?”

Customer: “But it has spice!“

Me: “And you’re still eating it. Pay up and get out.”

She then paid for the nachos and wove her way out of the gas station. Thinking that it was over, I exhaled and made sure the door was firmly locked this time.

Ten minutes passed and I saw her vehicle pull in front of pump one. After attempting the door three times and discovering that it was locked, she went over to the window.

Customer: “I need a refund. You sold me spicy nachos and I’m allergic to spice!”

Now, as a particular stipulation, I was not allowed to give refunds from the gas station. I needed manager permission to give a refund, and since I worked alone locked in the building on midnights, the customer had to go up to the main store, which was open twenty-four-seven, and go to the service desk to get a refund.

I explained this to her, and it took many times to get it through to her that I could not possibly help her at that point.

She was still mad, and she decided that the proper response was to take what was left of the cheese — only about a quarter of it — and smear it along the store’s window, spelling out, “F*** YU ND UR SPISY CHEZ!” Then, she drove off.

When my coworker came to relieve me in the morning, I told him the story. He barely believed me, and he made me scrub off the half-frozen cheese. I wish I had a hidden camera for this experience, but it’s mind-boggling and worth sharing.

I’m glad that I stopped working there. This is only one of the many horrible memories I have associated with the place, but at least this one is amusing.