Background: I work in a supermarket. I've been there nearly seven years and I've run out of any fucks I previously had when I began. Today was slightly different. Prepare for a long, wild ride.
I'm hanging out packing bags for a coworker (anything to get out of doing real work), when the customer points at the screen and abruptly says: "that's wrong."
Me: "Oh, sorry, what's wrong?"
Her: "The salad tubs. They should be 2 for $7."
I go and check out the deli sign, realise she's got one 'classic' tub ($4) and one 'gourmet' ($5). The special is only for the classic tubs, the sign very clearly states that under the CLASSIC heading. There is no mention of any special under the gourmet heading. I grab the sign and head back over to the register.
Me: "Sorry, look, you've grabbed one of each, it's only the classic tubs that are on sale, would you like me to get you another classic tub?"
Her: "That's WRONG. THAT'S FALSE ADVERTISING. IF IT'S WRITTEN ON THE SIGN IT MEANS ALL OF THEM!"
Me: "Ah, well, sorry, that isn't how it works..."
Her: "YOU HAVE TO GIVE IT TO ME FOR $7. YOUR ATTITUDE IS APPALLING."
Coworker: "I can't mark stuff down without asking the night manager."
Her: "CALL HIM DOWN HERE NOW!"
So I call him, he's busy, he asks what the go is, I explain, aaand: "Give it to her for $7."
WHAT. NO. GET FUCKED. NO. I can't (yet totally can) believe this is happening to me.
I take a deep breath, turn around, and smile.
Her: "It isn't REDUCING THE PRICE. It is GIVING ME WHAT I AM ENTITLED TO!"
Coworker changes the prices, she slams her card into the machine, transaction doesn't process because she's put in the wrong PIN.
Coworker: "Sorry, you've put the wrong PIN in, can you please try again?"
Her: "STOP SABOTAGING MY FINANCES! What's your name? Mark?* Mark, you will be HEARING FROM ME."
Holy fucking Christ on a bike. She finally leaves, I'm shaking because I really do not deal well with people shouting at me, but the next customer is lovely and we all relax and it's going to be alright.
Half an hour later, the night manager calls from upstairs.
Him: "Yolanda! What did you and Mark DO? I've NEVER had a customer yell so loudly about how bad the staff are."
Me: explains situation
Him: "No. You know better. Customer is always right. If they're going to be like that, give them what they want and move on. Their happiness > yours."
I hang up the phone, look at Mark, and burst into tears. I haven't cried for years at this job. I am so ashamed. People are looking at me so I just mumble "back in a minute", walk outside, and just let rip for about five minutes. I eventually feel bad for leaving Mark on register alone, fix my makeup, and go back inside.
The rest of the shift passes, a man steals $100 of meat, kids are caught stuffing chocolate down their pants, Mark makes me laugh. Just before I leave, the night manager pulls me aside and repeats exactly what he said earlier. I smile, nod, leave, call my boyfriend, rant forever, come home, and now I'm writing this.
I really wish the end to this massive post was "and that's the story of why I quit my job" but today is not that day. Instead I'm just gonna eat some pizza pockets, play Mario Kart, and fantasize about the day I do quit.
*name changed to protect my favorite work pal.