This Argument Is Getting Old

I am coming back from stocking when I get to hear this little gem.

Co-worker: Ma'am I can't find anything out about you by just your birthdate. I could type your birthdate into the internet and it wouldn't find you.

Customer: Is that your manager.

Co-worker: Nope, that's my Shift Supervisor.

Customer: Well, I'd like to speak to her!

Me: What's the problem ma'am?

Customer: I'd like to know why I am being IDed for lottery tickets. I'm seventy years old!

Me: You have to be eighteen years or older to buy lot...

Customer: I know that! But why am I being IDed?

Me: Because it's something you need to be eighteen years or older to buy our registers need a birthdate to be entered to continue the transaction. I know, I can see your old enough, and I understand it's a pain but we hav...

Customer: What do you do with my date of birth?

Me: We just enter it so we can finish ringing you out.

Customer: But what do you do with it? Keep it so they can mess with my taxes for buying lottery tickets?

Me: Ma'am, your birthdate doesn't tell us or anyone anything about you.

Customer: We live in New York State. They can look everything up!

Me: Not with just your birthdate. They would still need a name. There are probably many people in this area alone with your very same birthdate. I promise they can't find you with only your birthdate.

Customer: Well I want to know why I am getting IDed! Is it the law or just something you're making up?

Me: It's law to ID for substances and such you need to be a certain age for. But IDing everyone or at least getting their birthdate if they are old enough is something our office is having us do.

Customer: Well I want their number.

Me: I'll give you the number for here and you can call back and talk to the manager. She'll help you.

Co-worker: Amanda, I asked for her birthdate. I didn't even ID her.

I figured it out. You are all paranoid. Watch out. The aliens are coming to beam you up.

Doomed By The Pink Hair

Me: Can I have ID please?

Customer: I don't have it.

Me: I'm sorry sir, but because you don't have your ID I can't sell you the beer.

Customer: Are you kidding? It's in the mail.

Me: I'm sorry.

Customer: Where's your manager.

Me: I'm the Shift Supervisor and I assure you you're not getting this beer.

Customer: But there is someone above you and I'd like to speak to them.

Me: My manager is not currently in.

Customer: Is someone above you in? They'll give me the beer.

Me: I'm sorry, but unfortunately they would not. Store policy states that no one, including a manager, can override the decision of a cashier to deny sale. And by law, if you look forty years of age or younger you have to have ID to buy beer. You don't look above forty.

I'm very sorry that the law doesn't recognize how awesome you are and makes special rules for you alone. Maybe if you didn't dye your hair a weird shade of pink, I could have maybe seen some grays and taken your date of birth. But by trying to be all hip, you doomed yourself to being IDed like the rest of the populace.

I Am The Card Genie

Customer: I'd like to get twenty in gas. (proceeds to hand me his A-plus card)

Me: I'm sorry sir, we don't accept A-plus cards here.

Customer: This is a Sunoco.

Me: Yes, but we do not take part in the A-plus program. We do the Advantage card.

Customer: I want to use this one!

Me: Well, we do not accept the A-plus sir. Do you have an advantage card?

Customer: What the hell is that?

Me: You have it on your keys sir, it's the Price Chopper card.

Customer: Well you accept this one!

Me: No sir, we do not do the A-plus cards.

Customer: I used it here last week!

Me: I am sorry, but it is impossible that you used it last week. I promise you we do not accept it.

Customer: You damn cashiers! I used it here last week! One of you says one thing the other says another! (starts to walk away)

Me: Sir, did you still want your gas?

Customer: YES!

Me: Well, you have to give me twenty bucks then.

Customer: This isn't how you do this. (throws his money on the counter)

It is impossible because our store has NEVER taken A-plus. Sadly, I was the same cashier who helped this guy the week before. He used an advantage card.

You May Need Assisted Living

A customer calls about a purchase they made earlier in the day on some marked down items, luckily I tend to remember my customers and their totals and items. Unfortunately I didn't get the call. My co-worker did and I am watching him become increasingly frustrated before he finally tosses the phone at me.

Me: Hello, this is Amanda, how may I help you?

Customer: Yes, I was in your store earlier and I don't think the cashier knew what she was doing.

Me: Ma'am. I'm the cashier you dealt with, what's the problem?

Customer: Well the girl over charged me. I need to come in and get my money.

Me: Ma'am what did you buy?

Customer: I bought egg nogg.

Me: Okay, ma'am, I did that transaction, and I assure you it was all done correctly.

Customer: Maybe that girl was confused. Do I owe you money? Do I need to come in?

Me: Ma'am, I am the cashier that rang you out. You got two egg noggs at twenty-five cents each. I assure you that everything is fine and you don't need to come in.

Customer: So you owe me money? I can be there in a minute.

Me: No! Ma'am everything is fine. You don't need to come in. The transaction was done correctly.

Customer: So how much was it?

Me: You paid fifty cents plus tax.

Customer: Fifty cents for each?

Me: No, fifty cents for the both of them.

Customer: So how much was it?

Me: Fifty cents plus tax.

Customer: For one of them?

Me: No, for both of them. They were twenty-five cents separately.

Customer: Twenty-five cents for both of them? Then you owe me money.

Me: NO! Ma'am, it was twenty-five cents for one of them. You got two. So at twenty-five cents each it came to fifty cents plus tax for both of them.

Customer: Fifty cents for one of them?

Me: NO! Fifty cents for both of them.

Customer: So I need to come down there? I don't think that girl did it right.

Me: Ma'am. I was the cashier that rung you out. Don't come to the store! Everything is kosher!

Customer: So I don't need to come there?

Me: NO!

Assisted living. Invest. I had many customers staring at me as I was forced to yell. This is the short version. I was on the phone for a half-hour. She still didn't grasp that I was the cashier that rang her out. And continued to talk badly about the cashier that rang her out. Also, I had to spot this lady and her husband some pennies when I got done ringing them out for their egg nogg...

I Don't Read Directions Either

Customer: My advantage card didn't work at the pump.

Me: Did you already pay at the pump?

Customer: Yes.

Me: I'm sorry, once you've paid I can't do anything.

Customer: But I slid my advantage card!

Me: Did you push 'Yes' to the advantage card?

Customer: What?

Me: The pump asks you if you have an advantage card on the screen.

Customer: I don't read those things!

Well, I often don't read the instructions on my DVR at home, and I sit there hitting buttons wondering why it wont just record my show when I don't hit the specified record button. I'm above directions. If the lord saw fit to have me record my show, he'd just magical transport the knowledge to my brain.

I Built These Garbage Cans To Confuse You

Customer: Excuse me?

Me: Yes, can I help you?

Customer:(insert snobby tone) Um, yeah. There is nowhere to throw this away. This wont fit.

Me: ...

Customer: It is garbage from YOUR store. It wont fit in YOUR garbage cans.

Me: ...

Lady, I know that you were treating me like I had a mental handicap as I stared at you every time you talked to insist that your bowl from a Subway salad wouldn't fit in the hole our trash cans provide, but to be brutally honest, I was too dumbfounded by your choice to be angry about something so stupid. Here are some easy direction: Grab bowl with both hands. Push hands together. When thin and flimsy plastic bowl is somewhat folded, toss in garbage.

Denying You Something I Can't Do, Yes I Do That For Pleasure

Customer: Can you turn the pump on?

Me: I can't turn the pump on, but if you just push the cash button you can pum...

Customer: Could you just turn it on.

Me: I can't turn it on from in here you hav...

Customer: I used to work here. So just turn it on.

Me: Ma'am, they may have changed how they do it, because we have no way of turning on a pump from in here. If you just go back out and hit the green cash button I can approve you and turn it on.

Customer: This is ridiculous. Just turn the damn pump on.

Me: Ma'am I can't.

Customer: Whatever. This is ridiculous.

Yes, I am totally lying to you. I want to keep this conversation going where you abuse me and tell me what I can and can't do with the pumps and registers I have been working closely with forty hours a week for over a year. I have nothing better to do. All I want is to make your life miserable. Just to point this out, you could have pumped your gas and paid for it and been on your merry way to devour the souls of the innocent in the amount of time it took you to argue with me.

I Am A Secret FBI Agent

Me: Can I have your date of birth?

Customer: What?

Me: Can I have your date of birth?

Customer: Never mind then. That's my information.

Really? Are you afraid that by having your measly birthdate I will steal your identity? Shoot, you got me. I have a secret pad of paper beside my register. I write down everyone's birthdate and when I go home, instead of doing the millions of other things I have to do, I take the time to punch your birthdate into my top secret FBI database account and steal your identity.

They Plug Us In Outback

Cashier: Can I see your ID please?

Customer: Seriously?

Cashier: Yes, we have to ID everyone.

Customer: For lottery.

Cashier: Yeah. I'm sorry, it's my job.

Customer: I get it. But I just want to make you aware...

Stop right there. You don't need to make a cashier aware of anything. I know that you think we are another species that hails from the land of "personal servants for hire" and "docile droids that are plugged into the wall outback until their shift", but we are very much people just like you. When our shifts end, we go home to our chores and our families and we go shopping too. Sometimes, now hold your breath, we also buy alcohol, or any number of things you need an ID for. And we get IDed. So we are aware of how much of a pain in the behind it can be to be asked for ID when we are obviously old enough. And even if we didn't, I have one question for you: What do you think complaining to us is going to accomplish? I lied. Two questions. Do you think we can magically change the policies if you make us aware?