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I have just dealt with a customer who caused a scene and called us all communists for not honoring his out-of-date coupon.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.

I recently had my purse stolen, which necessitated getting a new copy of my driver’s license. After a three-hour wait at the DMV (seriously), I finally got to the employee at the counter. He was helpful until it came time for me to pay. All I had was a hundred-dollar bill — no credit cards because of the stolen purse — and my total was $30.

Me: “Can you make change for a hundred?”

Employee: “Sure, I think so. Let’s see.”

He opened his drawer, took out a fifty-dollar bill, and eyed the scant few bills he had left.

Employee: “Err, one sec.” *Turning to the employee next to him* “Hey, do you have change for a fifty?”

She gave him two twenties and a ten, and he handed her the fifty. Then turned back to me.

Employee: “Okay, so, the twenty plus the…”

He stared at where the fifty had been — the one he had just handed to his coworker — and then at the bills in his hand. Then, he let out a huge sigh. I could SEE the defeat in his eyes.

Employee: “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I’ll take your hundred-dollar bill and go get change from the manager’s office, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He did eventually give me the correct change, but it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one dead inside after spending too long at the DMV!

This is back in the days when to get Internet at home, you had to get a landline installed. This meant I had a phone that only rang when my parents called or it was a telemarketer, most of whom left me alone when I told them I was renting. Except for this one guy. He was persistent. I could get up to three calls a day from him on my days off.

I was also going through a terrible time. I was divorcing my ex thanks to an affair, I’d been made redundant from the job I adored, and the replacement position they’d found me because “we don’t want to lose you” was doing none of the work I enjoyed while being surrounded by the nastiest clique of overgrown Mean Girls I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when I got home from a day of work, which I’d done on very little sleep because my sister, brother-in-law, and six-week-old nephew had been T-boned by a drunk driver the night before. (They were all fine — the worst injuries were whiplash to my sister and horrific bruising to my brother-in-law — but I didn’t know that at the time.)

I heard the phone ringing as I was heading up to my door, so I raced inside, thinking it might be my parents with an update.

Telemarketer: “Hello! This is [Telemarketer] from [Company]. Is this [My Name]?”

I just broke and burst into tears.

Telemarketer: “Hello?”

Me: *Still sobbing* “I’m sorry, did you not hear? She was hit by a drunk driver last night.”

Telemarketer: *Click*

I never heard from him or his company again. And my sister thought it was hilarious when I told her.

I am shopping in a high-end grocery chain in one of the pricier neighborhoods in my city. I am browsing some prepared foods near the customer service desk, which also serves as an express checkout for ten items or less. 

I hear a woman raise her voice and look over to see a thirty-something man standing at the express register with what is clearly more than ten items. I passed the line on my way over to prepared foods, and it was at least six people deep. The line for self-checkout and the cashiers are longer, with at least ten people in each. 

An employee at the customer service desk is the woman who raised her voice. She tells the man she can’t check him out since he has so many items. 

Employee: “I don’t have time for this. There are signs. This line is ten items or less. You have too much.”

Customer: “So, you’re saying I need to pack up all this stuff and then get back in line?”

Employee: “Yes.”

And with that, she walked away. I watched him sheepishly pack his stuff back up while the woman behind him screamed that they were strict about the limit. When I got in line later, I saw him waiting again, but this time in the correct line.

Since I’ve been a long-time reader of this site, I did make sure I told a manager, who smiled and thanked me. She said the woman was merely enforcing policy, and she also worked back there herself, so she understood.

Honestly, it felt so good to watch!