This is back in the late nineties. Our shop is in the middle of a campaign change, so old stock is on the floor as new stock gets shelved. 

Some guy just strolled in, noticed an unguarded but dead weight 32″ TV on the floor, and waltzed off with it unnoticed. The following day, two men came into the shop wanting to see a TV of the exact model of the one that went missing.

Coworker: *To me, discreetly.* “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Me: “Yessir. These lads are tired of getting up off their useless arses to change the channel on their stolen TV and want the remote.”

The manager has also picked up on this, so stalls them by hauling another TV from the stock room (32″ tubes are quite heavy!) after sending me out to call the police. After the officers had come to the shop:

Police: “Can you prove these are the guys who stole the TV yesterday?”

Me: “Well… no. We don’t have working cameras.”

Police: “Then there’s not much we can do.”

Me: “What if you catch them stealing the remote?”

Police: “You think they’re going to do that?”

Me: “Only one way to find out.”

The officers and I hang back while my manager makes an excuse to leave the guys alone with the TV box for a moment. It took them precisely five seconds to open the box and rip open the instruction bag to get the remote. The officers are actually laughing as we all walk over to them.

Manager: “That remote doesn’t come with batteries. Wanna steal those, too?!”

The police dealt with them after that. We never got the TV back, but it was satisfying to see both of those guys escorted to the back of a police car…

This seemed to happen every Super Bowl weekend, to the point where we had specific protocols for it. 

It’s the Monday after the Super Bowl, and a customer brings in an 85-inch 8K TV that he’d purchased the Friday before.

Customer: “I need to return it.”

Me: *Deep internal sigh.* “What’s the reason for the return, sir?”

At this point, I would actually respect any customer who just came out with the honest answer and said, “I’m an a**hole cheapskate who got this big TV just for the Super Bowl, but I don’t want to spend the money on it, so I’m returning it now that I have no need for it like the jerkwad that I am. Thanks, suckers! See you the same time next year!”

But no, they always make an attempt at lying.

Customer: “It’s damaged.”

Me: “Can you show me the damage, sir?”

Of course, this ‘damage’ amounts to nacho cheese stains near the HDMI ports, a few scratches on the bezel, and some stains on the screen.”

Me: “Sir, this looks like damage that was caused after the item was purchased.”

Customer: “Came out of the box like that.”

Me: “Of course, because clearly the factory smeared mashed potatoes on the screen.”

The customer claimed he didn’t like my tone, so he was rewarded with a manager. The manager, for his efforts, called him out on simply ‘renting’ the TV for the Super Bowl weekend, but also knew Corporate would just end up siding with the customer anyway, so he gave the mother-f***er his refund.

I hate retail.

Coworker: “Ewww! Gross!”

Me: “What is it?”

Coworker: “Someone just left a full diaper in an empty shopping cart. They just… left it behind a display. It stinks!”

We both gag a little, but call the manager who deals with it themselves (thank God).

An hour later, the guy who was corralling the carts in the parking lot comes in, also looking disgusted. He is talking to my manager and me.

Cart Coworker: “So gross! I just found a diaper full of crap in a shopping cart! Someone just left it there!”

Manager: *Looking at me.* “What are the chances of that happening twice in one day?”

Me: “I guess with our customers, anything is possible.”

My manager confirms that the second diaper from outside has been taken care of and then disappears into his office. He emerges sometime later.

Manager: “Oh my god! I checked the cameras! Both diapers came from the same baby! Some woman changed her baby, like, an hour apart!”

Me: “But… both diapers were full!”

Manager: “I know! What the f*** is she feeding that baby?!”

I’m working concessions at a movie theater.

Customer: “What’s the difference between the regular hot dog and the jumbo hot dog?”

Now, this isn’t as stupid as it sounds, as sometimes customers refer to the toppings.

Me: “The size, ma’am. The regular hot dog is six inches, and the jumbo is twelve.”

Customer: “Is it really bigger, though? Or do you just make the bun smaller?”

Me: “That would be dishonest, though, ma’am. I promise, both the hot dog and the bun are bigger when you order the jumbo.”

The customer doesn’t seem convinced, but she orders the jumbo anyway. The hot dog and the bun are the same length. She still gets an actual tape measure out and confirms that the hot dog and bun are both, in fact, twelve inches. She glares at me one more time but goes on her way.

Coworker: “That is a woman who has been lied to by many men about size and inches…”

Our store is packed (yet another customer-panic holiday, yay), and all the checkout lanes have long lines. My coworker one lane over is dealing with a customer who has been having half of her items taken off as they’re scanned.

Coworker: *Beep.*

Customer: “Oh, that one is more than I thought. Take it off.”

My coworker taps some buttons, removes the item, and places it in her ever-growing pile of put-backs.

Coworker: *Beep.*

Coworker: *Beep.*

Customer: “Oh, so that’s how much those cost! Well, take it off. I just wanted to confirm.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, the prices of every item in the store come with a price label. None of them should be a surprise.”

Customer: “It’s easier if you do it for me.”

My coworker finally gets to the end of the customer’s items. The impatient line of customers behind them breathes a collective sigh of relief. That is until…

Customer: *Getting out a huge pile of coupons from her purse.* “Now scan these.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, it would have been much easier and much quicker if you’d told me about these at the beginning.”

Customer: “What? It won’t take that long, surely?”

Coworker: “Well, on the plus side, the people at the back of the line will have enough time to run to the garden center for fresh pitchforks.”

I wish I could come up with those as quickly as my coworker can!