It’s not often someone gets kicked out of a store for doing nothing except shopping, but when it happens it can create quite the stir.

While price-matching has become a modern phenomenon, it wasn’t always as common and could create some serious drama in department stores.

Let’s hear a riveting story that takes it back to the 90s!

I promise, I’m not here to steal your prices!

For this story, we’ll need to take a trip in the Wayback Machine, back to the far-flung realm of 1994.

The internet was still a strange and unusual thing, the Super Nintendo and Genesis were on the waning edge of the console cycles, and I (as a 15yo) was into it.

The high school version of water cooler talk was what games were we playing, did we know this, have we tried that, etc.

Coming into the holiday season, I was feeling my inner math geek come to the forefront, as the parents had long since told me about Santa, and instead I was given the directive: “You have this much money for this year’s presents. Make it last.”

Yes, ma’am! As I had not been introduced to any sort of spreadsheet aside from margarine, I had to cobble together two sheets of notebook paper, draw out columns and rows, and list out all the games I was interested in for the rows, and the stores I was going to check out for the columns.

A handcrafted work, but for my eyes at the time I was pretty proud of it.

The scene is set…

Cue me tagging along with mom whenever she went shopping, where I’d split off to do my thing, and she’d take care of hers.

All very neat and tidy for some of the more niche and/or departed stores of yesteryear – looking at you, Larger-than-village of the Circuits.

All was going well, until one fateful day, when my parents and I were visiting the Mart of Sprawls, and the following situation occurred.

Conversations are paraphrased, given the timeframe involved.

I will be Me, Salesdroid will be SD, and Dad will be Dad.

After entering the store, the parents went off to the fabric area to indulge Mom’s sewing hobby, while I wandered over to shelf after shelf of electronics goodness.

Pulling out my handy chart, I sent to work poring over my options, weighing one game here versus two there.

A grand metagame, if you will, to wring every last penny out of my purchases. Only to be stopped dead in my tracks by the bane of shoppers: an empty rack.

Hrmm. I wander over to SD, who was manning the register but not busy at the time.

Me: “Excuse me, do you have suchandsuch?”

SD: “Let’s check.”

We both go back, verify the shelf is empty, nothing in the overflow area beneath the shelves, etc.

Everything seems fine…

Drat. I pen down a quick N/A in the appropriate box, and go back to my task. After a few moments, I become aware that SD has not gone back to the register, but is standing there, staring at me.

SD: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m checking prices for my presents.”

SD: “Don’t do that.”

Me: “Uhh… what?”

SD: “Don’t do that. Competitors aren’t allowed to price-shop us. It’s not allowed.”

Me: “Whatever, dude.”

At that point, I excused myself from that aisle, and walk several over to the entire row devoted to PC games (Steam was not yet in existence).

After a few minutes, I notice movement out of the side of my vision, and see SD standing at the end of the aisle.

Check my other side, and SD’s clone was standing at the far end. They walk forward together in tandem and box me in.

SD: “You need to leave the store now.”

I was given no room to argue; they just forced me up to the front doors, and then stood there to make sure I didn’t come back in.

This isn’t going well…

Now, at the time, I was old enough to have a learner’s permit for driving, so I had my own keys to the car.

I go out, sit there for a moment and fume that my plans for the day were shot, and then a stray thought hits me.

My parents knew I was in electronics. If they showed up looking for me in a holiday crush, and I was missing, they would absolutely freak out.

So I dig in the cup holder for a quarter, march all the way across the parking lot to the gas station on the corner, and reference my handy spreadsheet for the store’s phone number.

I call in to the store and have them paged over the intercom. After two pages, they pick up the phone, expecting the worst.

One of the grandparents is sick, police trying to find them to deliver bad news, something!

What they were not expecting was my chipper voice on the other end of the line.

Dad: “Vemika, what are you doing on the phone? Where are you?”

Me: “I’m at the gas station; they kicked me out.”

Dad: “What?!”

Me: “Yeah! They said I was price-shopping for a competitor and kicked me out.”

And then I hear the words and tone of voice that any kid knows means bad weather on the horizon. Batten down the hatches, Harriet!

Dad: “Get. Back. Here. Now.”

I just about sprinted across the parking lot, as that command brooked no room for misinterpretation.

SD and his cohort had already left by the time I got back, so the parents met me at the front door, I explained more fully what happened, and then they walked me back to electronics.

SD must have felt the chill of the grave approaching, as he turned around to see me. Pointing at him.

With Momma Bear and Poppa Bear over each shoulder.

To say he turned white as a sheet would be an understatement, but without a word, he started walking away from us.

The sight of fleeing prey awakened the thrill of the hunt in Momma Bear, so she started chasing him, demanding answers.

What happened? Why? Middle of the holiday crush and you kick a kid out of the store where anyone could have been waiting?

Parents to the rescue!

Up one aisle this scene unfolds, down a second, and up a third before SD has hit his limit. In an instant, he whips around on his heel and smarts off to Momma Bear.

Insert coin Player 2 joins the battle! Turns out Poppa Bears are really protective of their Momma Bears.

What followed was a verbal volley so ferocious and three-sided, I had no hope of following all of it.

I just knew that what was unfolding before me could charitably be described as a ‘tag-team mauling’.

The conversation got so loud and animated that it attracted the store manager, who had to haul everyone into the employees-only area to sort through it all.

He talks to me first, I explain what I was doing, and hand over my spreadsheet so he can see it.

He undoubtedly recognized that I was handing over all his competitors’ numbers, as after a moment he handed it back and said there was nothing wrong with it.

He even opined that other store managers will come in to do just that, he’ll walk around with them, chat, etc.

Very straightforward interaction, as he described it.

Mom and Dad went next, venting their spleens about the situation, and while it was a bit overdramatic, they still had a pretty good point about kicking a teen out without at least inquiring if a parent is nearby.

Everything ended up okay.

They weren’t demanding compensation, nor did we get any.

They just expressed their outrage and disappointment, and they left their cart full of items where it sat to be returned to the shelves.

As for SD, I didn’t hear about any fallout from his side.

But I can say for a fact that the incident was reported, as about a week later I got a call out of the blue from the district manager for the store, to apologize again on the store’s behalf and offer me a challenge of finding a better price than theirs, and they would match it.

Which is something I took them up on, several times.

Let’s get into the comments.

Most commenters loved this price-checking story.

Several commented on the incredible story telling.

This Reddit user thinks there’s a deeper lesson here.

And some people could even relate to the scandal!

Who knew a story about price-checking could be so entertaining?

If you liked that post, check out this post about a woman who tracked down a contractor who tried to vanish without a trace.