A customer has requested assistance in the electronics section, specifically selecting an expensive item that’s behind glass. I have the key, so I’m walking toward the section, and even get close enough to make eye contact with the customer, when we get a ‘Code Adam’ over the employee radios.

For those who don’t know, a ‘Code Adam’ is when a child has been reported lost in the store, and every employee suddenly has to follow a strict protocol of searching their area and reporting back, no exceptions. 

I shout an apology to the customer, turn on my heel, and start my preset search of the area.

Luckily, less than a minute later, the call comes through that the child has been found. I return to the customer.

Customer: “What the h*** was that?”

Me: “Sorry. We got a report that there was a missing child in the store, so we had to stop what we were doing and search.”

The customer, who is with her own kid, just scoffs and says to me:

Customer: “It wasn’t my kid. You should have been helping me. I was there first.”

Me: “I’ll keep that in mind if your kid goes missing.”

It was worth the slap on the wrist for shocking and offending that hideous woman.

I work in the office of a grocery store. My manager is typing up some payments to our meat suppliers and delivery peeps. I’ve picked up one of the printed invoices for filing.

Me: “Uh, [Manager], did you type up this payment for the chicken company invoice?”

Manager: “Yeah.”

Me: “Might want to redo the line for the ‘whole chickens’.”

Manager: “Why?”

Me: “You typed the letter ‘R’ instead of ‘L’ in the word ‘whole’.”

My manager walks over and looks at the payment.

Manager: “Hey, whatever those chickens get up to on that farm is none of my business…”

I work in a gift shop in a major theme park. The items here are, of course, quite expensive, because the company is banking on nostalgia and love of the brand to fuel sales, which usually works.

A mother and her son come up to the payment counter holding a plushie of a famous character from one of the park’s IPs. The son looks four, maybe five years old.

Mother: “This is my son’s favorite character of all time.”

Me: “Awesome! I’m glad you were able to find this for him.”

She sighs deeply.

Mother: “Yeah… It’s such a shame that we can’t afford it. Taking this home for him would be… magical.”

Me: *Blinks.* “Oh.”

Mother: “Yeah… after the cost of the park tickets, and getting here, and the crazy prices you all charge for food, we just… can’t afford to get him a souvenir he can take home with him to remind him of his magical day. Unless, of course, there’s a discount available?”

Is this woman seriously trying to emotionally blackmail me into giving her a discount?

Me: “Well, ma’am, the prices are set, but there are plenty of other options for this particular character that we sell. There’s a smaller plushie available, as well as keychains and—”

Mother: “—No, he’s got his poor little heart set on this one specifically. Is there something the park can do to make his stay… magical?”

She keeps saying and emphasizing the word ‘magical’ like it’s some kind of IRL cheat code. I fetch my manager.

Manager: “How can I help?”

Mother: “Yeah… It’s just my poor son. He’s got his heart set on this plushie. It would make his day just so… magical, to be able to take it home, but we just can’t afford it. Is there anything you can do to make his day just that much more… magical?”

Manager: “Prices are set, ma’am. Maybe you could tell me your budget, and I could assist you in finding something that would make him happy?”

Mother: *Deep sigh.* “It’s just… he’ll be so disappointed if he doesn’t get to take this specific plushie home. Only this one. The park does promise him a magical day, after all. Not going home with this would ruin the magic.”

Manager: “The park didn’t tell him he was getting a plushie, ma’am. Someone else may have.”

Mother: *Deep sigh, getting irritated now.* “But it’ll ruin the magic if he doesn’t get it! Do you want to be responsible for breaking his heart?”

Manager: “I’m not breaking his heart, but I am witnessing it being used as a negotiating tactic. We cannot offer any discounts on the items for sale anywhere in the park. Please budget accordingly.”

Mother: “You’re meant to offer a discount if I say it’s for the magic! It’s the rules!”

Manager: “Ma’am, are you buying this plushie at cost, or shall I return it to the shelf for you?”

Mother: “This park sucks!”

Manager: “Allow me to return this to the shelf for you, ma’am. And remember to have a magical day!”

She stormed out with her son, who spent the entire time looking bewildered, not sad. Pretty sure he had no idea what character the plushie was, but considering the mother had the same character on her t-shirt, I assume the toy was for her instead…

My significant other and I were doing some shopping and decided to eat at a chain restaurant. It’s ‘reasonable’ food at the cheaper end of the scale, and okay when you’re not looking for a posh dining experience or anything.

There was a daytime ‘soft drink, salad bar buffet, main course, and dessert’ offer, which came to £30 for two people. A bargain, which we ordered.

The food turned out to be pretty good; we made more than one trip to the buffet and suffice to say by the time we’d finished our main courses we didn’t feel we needed the dessert (the only dessert with the meal deal was ice cream, so not something we could have boxed up and carried out for later), so I instead asked the server for the bill.

The bill arrives, and we have been charged an additional £9, for £39 in total. I query this with the server.

Server: “That offer is only valid with desserts, and you said you didn’t want desserts anymore.”

Me: “We intended to have the desserts, but we’re too full for them now, so we don’t want them, but I didn’t expect we would be charged more?”

Server: “Well, you’ve not ordered the offer anymore, so there’s nothing we can do.”

Me: “Well then, I’d like to order two desserts, please. You can bring them over, we won’t eat them, and you can get the £9 knocked off the bill for us?”

At this point, the server looks at me with a bewildered look and says she’ll get the manager. My other half, who is more of a shrinking violet in these situations, is looking a little uncomfortable.

A few moments later, the manager comes over and asks why we don’t want to pay! I explain that I do, but I don’t expect to pay MORE for saving waste, but by all means, to bring over the desserts, and we will leave them there on the table when we leave.

Comprehending this, she agrees to just charge us for the meal deal.

A customer wanders over to me in the produce department holding a pack of kiwis.

Customer: “Do you sell these but, like, not hairy? The hair is gross.”

Me: “Uh, no. I’m afraid we only sell those as nature intended.”

Customer: “It’s just, I like the flavor, but the hairy skin is just so gross. Don’t you sell shaved kiwis?”

Me: “We sell gold kiwifruit. I think that might be what you’re looking for.”

Customer: “I saw those, but they’re twice the price.”

Me: “I’m afraid those are your only options.”

Customer: “There’s nothing you can do?”

Me: “I can’t discount the gold kiwi.”

Customer: “No, I mean, can’t you shave the regular kiwi?”

Me: “That… uh… isn’t a service that we currently provide.”

Customer: “That is sooooo disappointing. I’ll let a manager know that I was very disappointed by the lack of service I received today.”

Based on the loud laugh I heard from a manager recounting a tale of a strange customer later that day in the break room, I guess the customer found one…