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From Sam, November 2009 (One of RHU's earliest posts about Mistaken Identity):

I recently left my retail job for a much better job--as a bank teller!

Little did you know, your bank teller is no better off than you, dear retail slave.

OK, of the 9 rings of hell, my bank job puts me on one of the outer, less torturous neighborhoods of Hell, but it's still Metro Hell.

My bank, you see, is located inside a [Insert Largest Retailer Chain Here]. That mean's OUR customers are Wally's customers.

I could rant all day about them--the 500 lb. ones rolling around on those poor electric scooters, the backwoods apes who never bathe... but truly, honestly, the worst part of my job?

The bathroom. I have to use the public bathroom. I cannot tell you how many times I've walked in and turned right around without pause because the stench or something I witnessed was too much to tolerate.

And I don't blame the staff--I know they clean it at least 3 times a day! Would you like to even guess how many people walk in and out of there without washing their hands? There's a reason their toilets are the kind that flush automatically--I'm certain they'd never get flushed otherwise.

Just yesterday I witnessed a woman put her hands in the water at the sink, and instead of then reaching for some soap to wash, she cupped her hands, bent over and started drinking.

The worst, though, was last week. My uniform shirt color changes daily. One day of the week, the shirt is blue. Not even the same color blue that the employees wear, but blue. I went to the bathroom. When I finished, and opened the stall door, there were 3 old ladies standing outside the door, huddled together, waiting for me.

I thought for a second I was about to be mugged by some weird Old Lady Mafia. I froze, since I couldn't exit with them standing there, and waited for whatever it was they had for me.

"You're out of toilet paper!" one hollered, as she pointed toward a southward stall.

"AAAAND paper towels!" accused another.

Ever so slowly, I reached up and pointed to the logo on my shirt, and then at my nametag, also sporting a bank logo.

"I don't work for [Retailer]."

"Oh, we thought you did." They continued to stand there, as if I were still expected to remedy their paper product problem.

"So... can I leave?"

They rolled their eyes and huffed as if it were unbelievably rude of me not to help them, but ultimately parted enough for me to squeeze by, but stood there and watched as I washed my hands, and then used the hand dryer to dry them. I could hear them muttering about it as I left.

---Sam in Indiana

From u/blondiebombs   I Don't Work Here Lady:

I was on my lunch break and decided to go to the local supermarket to buy something quick to eat. I wear black trousers and black fleece with my yellow work logo on it and a name tag. the super market staff wear all black and green fleeces and black trousers so i can see why anyone would get confused if they arent paying full attention.

I was in the chilled aisle looking for the pre made pasta and an old lady was pushing her trolly behind a staff member who was stocking the fridge and said "Where is the butter?"and kept repeating it over and over getting more and more annoyed as the staff member wasnt aware of her. I walked past and then the woman grabbed my arm.

OW - Old Woman

B - Me

OW - WHERE'S THE BUTTER!?

B - Sorry I don't work here, but it should be in one of these fridge aisles.

OW - You should know exactly where things are if you work here! and why is that boy ignoring me?

B - I don't work here, I work for (alteration shop)

OW - This isn't good enough. I want to speak to your manager, what your name and that boys name!

B - Look I don't work here. I've told you this a few times now. the butter should be around this aisle as the milk is right there.

I started to walk away as I had to get back to work soon so I walked in the direction of the fridge stocker.

Just then the store manager comes around the corner and starts to use sign language with the other guy stocking the fridge. Just then I turned and saw the old womans face turn bright red. Straight away she walked the other direction away from them and she even managed to find the butter around 5 feet from where she was standing.

--u/blondiebombs

From u/ericaferrica I Don't Work Here Lady:

Never thought I'd have one of these stories but here we go! This weekend my partner and I were doing some Fall cleaning and ran out to do some errands in the middle of it. I was wearing dark leggings with marijuana leaves and a hoodie, my partner wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie - we had been cleaning all day and didn't really care about our attire as our errands were supposed to be a short trip. One of the stores we stopped in was Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I don't think they have an official "uniform," the staff we could see were mostly wearing casual clothing (jeans, leggings, sneakers, etc).

We're walking through aisles looking at stuff when I see an older woman at the end of the long hall waving her arms at me frantically. I stop and start waving back, thinking "do I know her?" and just can't recognize her from afar. I wait as she walks towards me and I can tell that I don't know her. She will be "Older Lady (OL)" and I'll be me.

When she gets up to me, she says:

OL: "Hi could you tell me where ____ is?" (I don't remember what she actually wanted).

Me: "Oh I'm sorry, I don't work here."

OL: "Oh no really? But you look like the other workers and I can't find anybody"

Me: "I promise I don't work here" - points at pants

She loses it, she lets out this huge HAAAAAA! and starts laughing her ass off. "OOOOOH yeah you don't work here!" I noticed a female employee a little further down that hallway so as she's laughing and looking around, I point at the other woman (who also is wearing leggings and a long sleeve shirt, so I can understand OL's confusion). She thanked me and walked away.

She saw me at another point in the store later walking around with the employee I pointed to. "That's the nice pot lady that tried to help me!" <3

Tldr: Older woman thought I worked at Sleep, Shit, and So Much More. I didn't. She liked my weed leggings and called me nice.

Never thought I'd have one of these stories but here we go! This weekend my partner and I were doing some Fall cleaning and ran out to do some errands in the middle of it. I was wearing dark leggings with marijuana leaves and a hoodie, my partner wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie - we had been cleaning all day and didn't really care about our attire as our errands were supposed to be a short trip. One of the stores we stopped in was Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I don't think they have an official "uniform," the staff we could see were mostly wearing casual clothing (jeans, leggings, sneakers, etc).

We're walking through aisles looking at stuff when I see an older woman at the end of the long hall waving her arms at me frantically. I stop and start waving back, thinking "do I know her?" and just can't recognize her from afar. I wait as she walks towards me and I can tell that I don't know her. She will be "Older Lady (OL)" and I'll be me.

When she gets up to me, she says:

OL: "Hi could you tell me where ____ is?" (I don't remember what she actually wanted).

Me: "Oh I'm sorry, I don't work here."

OL: "Oh no really? But you look like the other workers and I can't find anybody"

Me: "I promise I don't work here" - points at pants

She loses it, she lets out this huge HAAAAAA! and starts laughing her ass off. "OOOOOH yeah you don't work here!" I noticed a female employee a little further down that hallway so as she's laughing and looking around, I point at the other woman (who also is wearing leggings and a long sleeve shirt, so I can understand OL's confusion). She thanked me and walked away.

She saw me at another point in the store later walking around with the employee I pointed to. "That's the nice pot lady that tried to help me!" <3

Tldr: Older woman thought I worked at Sleep, Shit, and So Much More. I didn't. She liked my weed leggings and called me nice.

--u/ericaferrica

From RHUer:

My wife and I have both worked at craft stores in the past; I still do (the red one). We were shopping at the green craft store about an hour away from home, and we both stopped by the restroom during our browsing.

We are wearing jeans and t-shirts, holding hands, poking through clearance, when a woman stops us in the aisle.

She asks if we can help her, since we "work here."

I smile awkwardly and let her know that she's mistaken; we're just shopping.

She asks why we came out of the back of the store, and I had to explain that we were in the restroom.

What sort of behavior does she expect from employees? We were holding hands, and are generally pretty affectionate in public. At least she wasn't rude, but I was truly surprised she thought we were employees. 

From Puppies in Prada

I'm shopping. I'm wearing a black shirt with a dragon breathing lightning on the front. In no way, shape or form is this like a uniform in the big box store I'm in. Now, I'm browsing through some shirts, which are stationed across the walkway from the registers, and it's a quiet time. No major crowds, and as per usual for big box stores, there are only a couple registers open at this time.

I hear a shrill voice call out, "I'm ready to be rung up now!"

None of my business. Probably someone who feels they must announce their presence to the world. I smirk to myself, thinking that this person also announces, "I have to go potty now!" before they walk to the public restrooms.

"Helloooo! I'm ready to be rung up nowww!" The shrill voice cries out again.

Do they have this shirt in blue? All I'm seeing is black or white or tan...

"Hello! Hello! Excuse me! Hello!"

Oh, they have it in red, but... meh... I walk around to the other side of the display. I have a cart with me. Fully visible to the registers. When I go to the other side of the display, I push my cart, with my purse and a few other purchases in it, to the other side of the diplay.

I hear the dainty sound of a T-Rex in flip flops come stomp-flapping my way.

There's the blue! Awww but... I don't like the blue in this style, AND they don't have my size. Damn.

"HEY!" This feminine Randy Savage bellow practically blasts the shirts off the top of the display. "I'm trying to get your attention! I'm ready to be rung up now!"

I slowly look up and meet this person's gaze. "That's nice. Go to any open register you like."

"I've already unloaded my stuff onto the conveyor belt. I'm not moving. Get your ass over there and ring me up."

I stare at her. She stares right back. I break gaze, grab the bottom of my shirt and stare down at my lightning-breathing dragon on my front. I look back up, slowly, slowly, stretch my face into a huge grin, then laugh in her face. "Ha! That's a good one! Have a LOVELY day ma'am!"

She looks outraged, then stares at me a little more closely. "You don't work here." Not even a question. The dawn has broken over the Plains of Ignorance.

"Obviously."

I push my card deeper into the jungle of shirt displays, and leave her behind. When I look back a short time later, peering through the tangle of clothes racks, all of her things are back in her cart, and she has slunk to the end of the line of an open register.

--Puppies in Prada