Guy attempts to pay with knowledge.

Note: I live in Brazil and speak Portuguese. I translated this story with the help of chat into English for English-speaking readers.

Business was far busier than usual. I was the only employee on the team who spoke English, so I spent half my shift supervising the front end and the other half acting as a walking Google Translate. As if that weren't enough, there were only two supervisors on duty: me and B. Unfortunately, she had essentially been kidnapped by the store's POS system alongside the store manager, trying to solve a cashback issue that simply refused to work. They were trapped in that nightmare for hours.

Which meant the entire front end was now my responsibility.

I'd already been running around nonstop for over an hour when one of the cashiers called me over.

It was A.

Anyone who knows A knows her name suits her perfectly. She's an angel. Even on bad days she's usually calm, or at least smiling. As a supervisor, I can often tell what kind of problem I'm walking into just by looking at the expression of the employee asking for help. The moment I saw how completely drained she looked, I was already surprised before I even reached the register.

"Dear God... what happened now?", I thought to myself.

"Hey, what's going on?"

She answered, right in front of the customer:

"...This guy doesn't have any money."

That alone caught me off guard. Hearing Ângela sound that impatient was rare.

That's when I finally looked at the man.

The first thing that stood out was his size. He was wearing a bright orange T-shirt that clung tightly enough to reveal every contour of his body, paired with shorts, flip-flops, an uneven beard and...

...sunglasses.

At night.

I have nothing against overweight people, obviously, but first impressions matter, and that entire combination looked like it had been assembled specifically to make people uncomfortable.

Before I could even ask a question, he spoke.

"She doesn't accept the value of knowledge. Don't you know the value of knowledge?"

At that exact moment I felt the entire weight of my shift crash onto my shoulders.

Hours without stopping.

Customers calling my name.

Foreign tourists looking for me in the aisles.

Employees asking for help.

One supervisor trapped in cashback hell.

And now some philosopher trying to reinvent the monetary system over a $1 pack of cookies.

I took a breath.

I decided diplomacy deserved one chance.

"What do you mean? We only accept the usual methods of payment here..."

Apparently, something I said bruised his ego.

"Listen, brother. My watch is worth more than all of you."

He raised his arm to show me a black-and-gold analog watch.

I don't know the first thing about watches. It could've been worth fifty dollars or fifty thousand. At that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

"Doesn't it matter what I have to offer?"

Later, A told me that before I arrived he'd spent several minutes talking down to her and repeatedly trying to get her to validate his bizarre ideas. That only confirmed my first impression hadn't been wrong.

That was where my patience ended.

I dropped the diplomatic expression.

"So you don't have any money, right? Next time you decide to visit society, learn how it works first. Nobody here cares about your watch or your 'knowledge.' Here, you either pay or you don't get the product. Bye."

I canceled his purchase immediately.

Honestly?

On any other day, I probably would've argued with him for a while. I might've even enjoyed talking to a guy that bizarre. I'm no stranger to other people's stress, and if someone wants to complain, I'll usually hear them out and keep arguing until the issue is completely settled.

But that day, I was the one slowly going insane.

The moment I canceled his purchase, cleared the register for the next customer, and turned to leave, he tried to stop me and keep complaining.

He never got the chance.

Three stock clerks practically intercepted me.

"For the love of God, come help with the foreigners!"

It genuinely felt like I was being escorted straight from one problem into another.

The difference was that the tourists understood how the system worked. They weren't trying to reinvent reality—they just needed someone who could translate.

So off I went, following the guys through the store.

Oddly enough, hearing their voices was almost a relief.

At least this was a problem I could actually solve.

According to my coworkers, after I walked away he decided to demonstrate the full extent of his emotional maturity by making the classic "banana" gesture with his arms at my back.

(For those unfamiliar with it, it's an old mocking gesture in Brazil where someone bends one arm and slaps the inside of their elbow with the other hand—a childish way of saying, "Ha! Screw you!")

Think about how ridiculous this sequence was.

The guy tried to buy a pack of cookies without any money.

Tried to pay with "knowledge."

Flashed his watch.

Lost the argument.

Made a childish gesture after I left...

...and somehow I was the banana.

By the end of the shift, the whole thing had stopped being stressful and had turned into just another retail story. I spent a good while laughing about it with the stock crew.

That's retail.

Some days you deal with customers.

Some days you deal with characters.

And only the strong survive.