CONTENT WARNING: Dark Humor

I have a five-foot-zero coworker. She is obviously pregnant, but this seems to make customers think they can just waltz up to her and place their hands on her belly.

She’s scolded the customers about this, who have in turn complained to managers, who have in turn told her to just deal with it. 

Coworker: “Fine… I will deal with it.”

One shift, I notice this exchange. A customer once again touches [Coworker]’s belly. 

Customer: “Oh, congratulations!”

Coworker: *Backing away* “Please don’t touch me.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m a mother, so it’s okay. How far along are you?”

Coworker: *Holding her belly* “This is a tumor.” 

Customer: *Horrified* “Oh… I… Oh…”

Coworker: “Are you asking how long I have left? About six months.”

Customer: *Possibly traumatized, tearing up, backing away* “I… I’m so sorry, I…”

The customer rushes out of the store.

Me: *Trying not to laugh* “I think you just traumatized that woman.”

Coworker: “Maybe next time she’ll think twice before walking up to a total stranger and placing her uninvited hands on their bodily protrusions!” 

[Coworker] gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. When she brought him into the store for us to coo over, she said to me, “Here’s my little tumor!”

I worked in a vitamin store while I was in college. This was a pretty boring store for kids; they never came in without their parents.

Kids wandering a mall only really go to fun stores at that age, right? But two girls came into our vitamin store, no adult with them. They were the age where kids are just old enough to be walking around a mall without their parents — maybe eleven or twelve at the absolute oldest.

Girl: “Excuse me, where are the chewable vitamins? It’s usually [Brand].”

I was surprised she knew the name of it. My colleague handed her the bottle, and the girls said thank you. The first girl showed the vitamins to her friend. They handed the bottle back to my colleague, said thank you again, and left.

They came back probably fifteen minutes later with their moms, went right to the spot, and showed it to one of the moms. They then picked out the same brand bottle but for older people. Then, I saw that they had come in with an older lady who was walking very slowly, probably a grandma or even a great-grandma. The girls had run ahead to minimize the time it took for her to be standing or walking around the store looking for vitamins.

I told the other mom how the girls were the politest kids we had ever met, and her eyes got kind of big, but she looked pleased and said thank you. The mom bought the vitamins. The girls said thank you to us (my coworker and me), and that was it.

A simple and not a crazy story, but when you work in retail, having customers so well-behaved is actually kinda crazy.

I have just dealt with a customer who caused a scene and called us all communists for not honoring his out-of-date coupon. Wouldn’t that make us capitalist? But anyway… After he has been loudly escorted out by security, one of our regulars who likes to crack jokes starts speaking to my coworker who is serving him.

Regular: “I once dated a girl who was a communist. Didn’t work out. I should’ve seen the red flags.”

Coworker: *Without skipping a beat* “A communism joke isn’t funny unless everyone gets it.”

That almost made it worth dealing with the bad customer… Almost.

My partner and I go to a local discount store to pick up some stuff for the house. I use a wheelchair, and thus, I have a disabled parking placard. We pull into the parking lot and realize that a HUGE [Soda Company] semi truck is taking up every single accessible spot. My partner and I look at each other.

Me: “What the f***?!”

We park in a regular spot, and my partner goes in alone to talk to the manager.

Partner: “Hey, your [Soda Company] guy is taking up all the disabled spots. My boyfriend and I need one of those spots.”

Manager: “He’s almost done. Can’t you just use a normal spot?”

Partner: *Pauses* “He has a placard for a reason. And parking in one of those spots without one is illegal, much less all five.”

Manager: “Well, I’ll ask him to hurry.”

Partner: “You know what? I think we’ll try somewhere else.”

He came back out and relayed the conversation that happened inside. We took some pictures of the truck, the license plate, and good angles of it blocking literally every last accessible parking spot. We ended up reporting them to the company — and the manager, who didn’t seem to understand why we were complaining. Last I heard, the driver got reprimanded.

I’m taking a customer’s order.

Customer: “Steak, cooked seven seconds on one side and another seven seconds on the other. If it’s a second over, I will know, and I will it send back.”

We made him his raw-a** steak with just a faint grill line, and he ate it all.

Apparently, he was a regular, and our manager had once offered him some steak tartare on the house. He had replied:

Customer: “Eww! Gross! I can’t believe people eat that raw s***!”