Tales from a cashier

Me: Hi there!

Customer: *holds up a finger and rolls eyes while on the phone*



Officer: So you're saying that she just choked on her coffee and died?

Me: Yes sir.

Lady: your not gonna help me bag

Me: I can't anything if you don't give me yours bags

I need to quit this job.


I should not be waking up feeling a sense of dread about the day to come because I have to go to work.
I should not be thinking of reasons and excuses to stay home (fake sick, fake injury, actual car crash).
I should not have my stomach in knots from anxiety on the drive there.

I am sick of being treated like a moron and a failure and a loser. I hate that place so much. I need to get out.


HOW not to piss off your cashier and maybe make them actually like you!!!

At the store I work at, there’s a bar code at the bottom of the cart that we have to scan to check bob (buttom of buggie) . That’s our genius way of trying to prevent people from stealing Anyway, most people just ask me what it’s for and why I scanned blah blah. 

So a customer, an African American lady, had asked me why I scanned the cart and of course I told her the reason. Now usually a customer will laugh and understand and move on. But this lady…. This lady goes, “Haha what a way to stereotype me.” What? Excuse me? Then she goes to me, “You must be racist.” I… Racist? Me? I was so hurt and angry that I had to step away from my register in order to not blow up. Because I’m an asshole. And I would have said the rudest, meanest shit ever. When I was finally calm I explained to her it was store policy to scan each and every single cart that comes through my lane. Not just an African American. Then I handed her the receipt and told her to have a nice day. And I turned away from my register to give myself a moment because I actually wanted to cry.


when you’re the cashier at an express register and someone comes up with a full cart


I just realized something what do Canadians do at a strip club for money. Do they just throw loonies at the stripper.