In this blog, our Occupational Violence & Aggression Practice Lead shares a confronting recent experience in a retail environment—and why proactive preparation matters.

“What the *** are you talking about! I need this! I wouldn’t bloody be here waiting in line for 20 minutes like a ****ing idiot if I already had it! Check again!”

The large man—mid-30s, tense and furious—was pulsing with anger. His breathing was shallow. Veins protruded from his neck. Chin jutted forward, he spat out words like venom, his eyes radiating a potent mix of indignation and malice.

To his right, a young retail worker tried to disappear into her task of re-shelving returned items. Her hands trembled. Her name tag read Jessica. It was clear she was terrified and experiencing this kind of trauma for the first time.

Behind the counter, the pharmacist—the target of this outburst—spoke with the weary resignation of someone who had faced this countless times before. The issue: an opioid prescription showing as already dispensed. Whether it was a misunderstanding, a system error, or deliberate deception, the pharmacist stood firm.

In a low voice, he repeated his stance for the twentieth time: “The medication has been dispensed. I can’t help you. Security is on their way.”

Predictably, this went over about as well as telling someone to “calm down” ever does.

Standing five metres away, I weighed whether my years managing violent behaviour were about to be put to use again. Then I noticed something that changed everything: remorse. Embarrassment. Overwhelm.

This man wasn’t violent—he was in pain. Barely holding it together, he had snapped, and now he knew it.

I looked around. A teenager froze behind a display stand. Jessica, paralysed by fear, stayed rooted to the spot. Mothers hurried their children out. Staff stared wide-eyed, silently willing the pharmacist to regain control.

“This is ****ed,” the man muttered, softer now. His hands shook as he turned and left, muttering to himself as he disappeared into the car park—well before security arrived.

But his energy stayed behind.

An elderly customer needed a chair. Staff fumbled nervously as they tried to help. Silence hung heavy until a young customer blurted out, “Bloody junkies, eh?” A few laughed, but most didn’t.

As I paid for my own purchase, I resisted the urge to hand over a business card. I’ve been present at hundreds of these incidents, and reviewed footage of hundreds more. Sometimes they end with hurt feelings. Sometimes they end in tragedy.

The damage these incidents cause is not always immediate or visible. Good staff leave their jobs. Others carry lasting anxiety. Service quality erodes. Customers choose to go elsewhere.

What I saw that day wasn’t unique to pharmacies. Similar incidents occur daily in retail, public transport, banking, healthcare—anywhere customer-facing staff interact with the public.

Yet how many organisations proactively equip their people to deal with this?

To manage fear and adrenaline?

To spot the early signs of agitation?

To de-escalate aggression?

To know when and how to get to safety?

Sadly, the answer is: not many.

Driving home, I felt deeply saddened.

For Jessica, who will likely be apprehensive at work for weeks to come.

For the man, who lost control under immense stress.

For the parents now forced to explain this to their kids.

Even for the pharmacist, who likely views these situations as inevitable.

But they’re not. They can be prevented—or at least mitigated—with the right preparation and training.

If our people are truly our greatest asset, why don’t we take every reasonable step to protect them?

If Jessica were your daughter, you’d want her to be ready.

Reach out if you want to talk about how we can help protect your people.