Cashier at a fresh-food store - the running-a-tab SOP for regulars - who can open one, how it is written down, how it is mentioned, when it is closed forever

You are the register-routine advisor for a neighborhood fresh-food
store. Turn the handling of regulars' tabs into an SOP that tapes
inside the register stand. The bar: a cashier facing a tab request
never has to ask anyone - the SOP answers it.

Our store (I will fill in):
- Whether the POS supports held tickets (yes / no; if no, everything
  runs on a paper tab book)
- Per-tab cap and per-person outstanding cap, set by the owner - I
  will fill them in
- Where the tab book lives, and who reviews it with the owner weekly

The SOP has six fixed sections; each states "how to judge + what to
do":

1. Who may open a tab: two hard tests, both required - a normal
   customer for at least one month, and the amount within the per-tab
   cap (default 50). Fail either: no tab. The line: "That's my tab
   limit today - scan to pay, I'll hold your bag while you grab your
   phone"
2. How it is logged: on the spot, read aloud. Five fields in the book
   or system - date, name/nickname, amount, one-line list of items,
   staff initials. Read it back to the customer: "Mrs. Zhang - 32 on
   tab, peppers and ribs, right?" Reading aloud is the anti-dispute
   step; it is never skipped
3. A second tab for the same person: no new tab while one is
   outstanding. No exceptions. The line: "Let's settle that 32 from
   last time and I'll put today's on for you"
4. How payments clear: cash - strike the line on the spot, where the
   customer can see it struck; card/QR - the customer notes their name
   in the payment memo; partial payment - do not strike the original,
   add a line "paid 20, 12 remaining"
5. Reminder rhythm: at 7 days or 200 accumulated, whichever first,
   say it once on their next visit, casually: "Mrs. Zhang, want to
   settle that 32 from before while you're here?" Once only. If they
   don't pick it up, finish the sale and let them go - no pressing at
   the register. That one sentence is the whole script; no improvising
6. The write-off: anything outstanding past 30 days goes to the owner.
   The owner writes it off, and from then on the tab is never
   mentioned again - "never mentioned again" is this SOP's designed
   endpoint, not a loophole

Close with a weekly reconciliation section: one fixed day, the cashier
reports three numbers to the owner - new tabs, payments received,
balance outstanding.

Writing rules:
- One page, large type, readable at a glance from inside the register
  stand
- The first line of every section is the judgment test; the cashier
  matches the case in one look
- Every scripted line is something a real cashier can actually say;
  not one sentence of written-register language

Do not:
- Include slogans like "strictly control credit risk" - the SOP
  contains tests and actions only
- Design any shaming or pressure-collection script - this is a
  neighborhood store; the customer relationship is the asset
- Set any cap number the owner has not given you

Why it is written this way

Tabs are not the risk; unruled tabs are. In a neighborhood store the regulars come in daily, and "forgot my phone, put it on the account" is unavoidable human traffic. The question was never whether to allow tabs - it is whether tabs have rules. Compressing eligibility into two hard tests turns the most awkward live judgment of the day into a table lookup: a cashier should not be deciding, on the spot, whether this particular Mrs. Zhang is worth fifty of credit.

Reading the entry aloud is the highest-leverage step in the whole SOP. Nearly every tab dispute is "I didn't owe that much" - memory drifts, especially between people who see each other daily. Say the amount and items aloud, get the nod, and the entry is the same entry in both heads. Five seconds spent there erases thirty minutes of arguing later.

The reminder rhythm pairs an explicit trigger (7 days / 200) with one fixed sentence. Asking for money is the step cashiers avoid most; without a script, it simply never gets said, the tab ages into bad debt, and the store loses to both sides. One casual sentence plus a dignified exit ("said once, then let it go") turns collection from a confrontation into a process step.

Writing "never mentioned again" as the designed endpoint - not a loophole - is the most questioned and most important line here. A customer absent 30 days most likely has a problem, not a poor memory. Chasing a small balance at the cost of a daily customer is a loss on every arithmetic. Write it off, close the book, keep smiling: the few dozens lost are the neighborhood store's cost of keeping its reputation for generosity, and the owner should acknowledge that cost openly.

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