I worked at Value Village in Toronto — these are 6 of the worst shopping habits I saw
From bizarre to just plain gross. 🤢🤢🤢
A Value Village store. Right: A Value Village shopping cart.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.
It was nearly a decade ago that I punched my last ticket at the Toronto Value Village I called "my goddamn job" for a few months during the summer of 2014.
"Our store is quite sizeable," the manager told me on my first day before explaining in no uncertain terms that she'd hired me because a sizeable demographic of their customers' shopping habits included thievery, trickery, and good old-fashioned laziness. "You'll learn a lot about people working here," I remember her joking—and how right she was.
During my time patrolling that fluorescently lit dust bowl, I saw many things: a mother standing idly by as their toddler defecated all over the used toy section, a grown man stealing VHS tapes while muttering about the impending robot apocalypse, and enough pointless haggling to bore even the hardest of Pawn Shop owners.
That job was my crash course into the adult world. A first introduction, if you will, to the types of people I'd be dealing with for the rest of my life.
Late-returners and overspilling shopping cart-ers, you can relax; I'm not coming for you. This article is an exposé on the worst-of-the-worst shopping habits I witnessed during my time as a Value Village Canada employee.
Hiding items to buy later
During one of my last shifts at the old Double V, I helped a customer move a microwave to their car. As soon as I picked it up, I felt something inside it. I opened it up, and there, crumpled into a brown mass, was a leather jacket. I couldn't tell you the brand, but I could tell by looking at it that it was a cut above the stuff we usually carried. The person I was assisting started apologizing immediately and professing that they didn't know it was in there; I believed them.
By then, I'd already found plenty of hidden Value Village stashes—little nests of luxury items customers would hide under piles of clothes or trinkets to return and pay for later. Now, I only saw a few folks exhibiting this squirrel-like behaviour during my time there, but the people who did it did it a lot. I could spend upwards of an hour dissembling these rat packs and returning the items to where they belonged.
Once, while I was doing this, a repeat offender, an older woman I'd caught storing dresses in the children's section, said, "At least we're giving you something to do." I didn't say anything to her then. I just smiled and waved. But, if you're reading this, lady, there was plenty to do, and your baffling rationale is why there's so much disorganization in the world.
Leaving a mess
I’m the messiest clean person you’ll ever meet. Every waking day of my adult life involves me cleaning up some whirlwind of cluttered chaos I’ve created, whether physical or mental. But, unlike some of the people I encountered as a Value Village employee, I clean up after myself.
I don’t think you’ve truly experienced peak laziness until you’ve seen a grown adult throw a pile of used jeans onto the ground in front of you and walk away from them just because they can. When I say I saw this kind of behaviour unfold before my tired eyes repeatedly, I mean it.
Treating the store like a daycare
Value Village is not a free daycare. Now, I know you’re probably aware of this. But I saw way too many parents treat it like a full-service, child-supporting system on which they could blindly rely to not relay that information to you now, just in case you don’t know.
I’ll never forget the afternoon I spent watching a mother casually browse around a collection of used teapots while her child went to the bathroom all over the toy section. The involvement of feces might have made this a rather isolated incident in my mind. However, kids often treated the store like their personal playground, causing chaos while their parents shopped either oblivious or indifferent.
These unsupervised antics added a lot to the workload of the staff. A bit of supervision goes a long way in making Value Village a less poopy place for all.
Haggling prices
Look, haggling is for the market or the fair, not the place whose whole concept is about giving you a deal upfront—no negotiations required. You'd think standing in a giant bargain bin would make people less inclined to ask for a discount, but nope, it happens all the time.
A woman once tried to get a $10 discount on a $20 dress because it wasn't the colour she wanted. Having to explain to a person old enough to be my mother why that wasn't something I could make happen is still one of my least favourite memories, alongside the encounter with a man who wanted his money back for a lamp that was "too bright."
Gee, Pat, don't you think you're whining about a non-issue? I mean, it's your job to deal with customers, right? Sure, but every minute I spent pointlessly negotiating was a minute lost to restocking shelves, helping others, or handling donations. My point? Time wasted is time wasted.
Hogging the changing rooms
One busy Saturday, I saw a woman haul a shopping cart of clothes into a fitting room. An hour later, she emerged empty-handed, leaving whatever she had collected in a giant heap inside. The line of frustrated customers waiting shot daggers at her as she went on her merry way, oblivious to her newfound haters.
Not everyone who hogged the dressing rooms at our Value Village was this blatantly disrespectful, but plenty lacked the kind of urgency you'd hope most would have when using a facility that really shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes to utilize effectively.
Leaving a mess around every corner
My days at Value Village were filled with unwanted surprises, thanks to our customers' gross penchant for leaving half-eaten meals on shelves and in clothing piles. I once discovered a sandwich being swallowed by two sweaters in a bloodbath of mayo and mustard — it was oddly poetic.
Another time, I unearthed a pair of muddy boots smushed underneath a rather pristine-looking blouse. Shockingly, the owner was nowhere to be found, leaving me to wonder all these years later if they had merely decided to go barefoot or had a sudden epiphany about minimalist living.
These avoidable scenarios only added to the never-ending cycle of cleaning and organizing I had to do daily because some people were just too lazy to find the trash bin.
Looking back on my (admittedly short) Value Village career, it's clear that working there was a true eye-opener to some shoppers' quirks and bad habits.
From hidden luxury items to unattended children, every shift brought a new lesson in patience and understanding human behaviour. As frustrating as these experiences were, they provided a wealth of stories and insights that have stayed with me years later.
But, if there's one takeaway, it's that a bit of consideration and common sense can make the shopping experience better for everyone.