Day Thirty Three

Update: Elvira

So weird. Elvira had her hair down in a loose ponytail and she cut long bangs. She still looked like her usual unhappy self except with a more feminine haircut. I complimented her hair in the break room and she became bashful about it. Elvira's version of "bashful" is where she grunts and waves her arm dismissively on the off chance that your compliment is sarcastic. She sat down across from me for the last five minutes of my break and inspected my lunch.

ELVIRA: What is that?
ME: It's gluten-free pasta, spinach and mushrooms tossed in an arrabiatta sauce.
ELVIRA: Ugh. Have to have meat.

She rolled her eyes at my vegetarian ways, but all of the old lady cashiers do. We chatted about cooking and and shared our favorite kinds of cooking. My forte is chicken curry, Elvira apparently makes a mean tortilla. She talks to me more nowadays and acts less grouchy, I am glad to say.

Jacob

Jacob is another one of the new employees. He is good looking, very tall and he has a booming deep voice that makes me want to hear him sing this:

I also noticed he had on a nice white belt that made our store's unattractive green t-shirt look like he wore it on purpose. I would try accessorizing but the ugly green t-shirt has an evil power that makes me not care about my appearance. Good looking gay guys like Jacob are immune to the powers of an ugly green t-shirt.

The Informant

It is summertime. The climate is good enough in some parts of the nation to bear fruits and vegetables I have never heard of or seen in person. A lady walked into my line with a basket of vegetables. After scanning a few items, I picked up this veggie that looked like a rejected sweet potato that somehow escaped the inspection trash can.

ME: Is this a sweet potato?
LADY: No, that is a yuca root.
ME: Oh! Okay, I have never seen one raw before. Thanks.
LADY: No problem. [she starting pulling items from the basket]
LADY: These are celery [she hands me the celery],
LADY: and this is kale [she hands me the kale],
LADY: avocado [she handed me the avocado],
LADY: green bell peppers, beets, romaine lettuce...

...and so on. She did this until her basket was empty. I knew all of the remaining items in her basket. Maybe she thought I was some college kid who only ordered pizza all of this time. Maybe she thought I was from a third world country and that the only food I knew was rice. Maybe she thought she was being helpful to a new employee. I was proud of myself for not telling the lady, "Shut the hell up, I know what an avocado is!" However, I made a point to stop any future customers from trying to educate me like she did.

Old Man #9


An old man came through my line. He had a lot of items and slowly began to place each item on the belt. I was about to help but another man walked  up and threw down a bag of coffee.

OLD MAN: Oh geez, I forgot.
SON: That's why I'm here, pop.
OLD MAN: That is the one thing we came here for.
SON: [laughs] Mom would be so mad if we forgot.
OLD MAN: You would have been blamed. I'm old and I am allowed to forget things.
SON: You're not allowed but you CAN get away with it better than I.

The son unloaded the rest of the cart for his dad and I kept listening to their conversation while I rang in items. They talked about family members coming to some dinner. They also chatted about the magazines, something about how Paula Deen may be skinnier but she still has that creepy smile. These guys had a fun bond.

SON: How are you, Miranda?

I was caught off guard and looked up. The son was classically handsome with a toothpaste commercial smile. He was so good looking that I don't think I responded right away. I eventually spoke.

ME: I'm good. Sorry! I was just listening to you guys talk! I love it when fathers and sons get along like you two.
OLD MAN: He is my favorite son.
SON: I'm his only son.

Loth in Tranthlation

An elderly lady walked up to me speaking Spanish. I couldn't understand a word she was saying (she was missing her two front teeth), her voice sounded like sandpaper and her Spanish was rapid. I constructed a sentence the best I could with, "No entiendo español cuando gente habla tan rapido." (I don't understand when people speak Spanish rapidly.)

She spoke again, much slower. I kept asking her to repeat, listening harder each time. I could tell she was frustrated but I was hell bent on helping her. I finally heard the words "flora" and "arroz". Bingo! Rice flour! I took her to the bulk section and we searched for her rice flour. When we found it she was so happy and relieved. I got a plastic bag for her and she got what she needed. I took her back to my register to check out and we conversed a little more.

From what I gathered, she is from El Salvador and had lived in the US for 33 years. She was finally trying to learn the native language after moving more north in Texas. "English is hard," she said (in English!). I laughed, proud of her. Proud of us both for meeting each other halfway.

Update: Copycat

Copycat is easily my best audience. Everything I say, funny or not, makes her laugh. We were both closing the store and she really wanted to make some of the closing announcements (15 minutes prior to close, 5 minutes prior, closing, then 5 minutes after). We split it up. She would do 15 and 5, I would handle closing. No customers were in the store five minutes prior to close so I was pretty excited we wouldn't have to wait around. I told Copycat that if someone came in at the last minute I would announce, "Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. Go home." She laughed, hard. I had never heard her laugh that much before. One customer did come in but didn't have a basket so I figured he would be leaving soon. He bought toilet paper and left right as closing time came around.

ME: It's 10pm! Closing announcement time!
COPYCAT: [picked up the phone before I did, and laughingly announced over the speakers] Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. GO HOME!

She put the phone down and laughed even harder than before. My jaw dropped. I wasn't actually going to say that. Our manager-on-duty, Emmy, was nice about it, thankfully. I told her it was my fault that Copycat did that and I assured her that our last customer left before the announcement (even though he probably heard it as he was leaving). I did get a mild scolding. Copycat has worked at this store for fours years and was probably going to work there for much longer. I didn't want her to get in trouble. As soon as I was sure that Copycat was safe, I finally laughed about it.

Observation: Copycat is highly impressionable.

Day Thirty Two

Update: Cake Eyes

I came into work lacking the usual amount of energy to give half of a damn.  I needed coffee. I found as many excuses as I could to return unwanted grocery items so that I could drink a ton of coffee samples. Everytime I left my register I got the stink-eye from Cake Eyes. I later observed her interactions with her customers. She was so sweet and personable. It seemed genuine. It didn't make sense that she hated me so much.

After her shift was over, Cake Eyes came through my line. She purchased two huge bottles of wine and some dog treats.

ME: Dog treats! What kind of dogs do you have?
CAKE EYES: Husky mixes.
ME: How pretty! I have mixes too.
CAKE EYES: What kind?
ME: A lab mix and a German shepherd mix. They were rescues.
CAKE EYES: Mine were adopted too. It is the right thing to do.

I handed her receipt over, she smiled and said goodbye. Did our bonding over dogs make her hate me less? Could this be peace at last? I sure hope so.

Miranda & the Gang

An elderly lady came through my line with three young girls. The oldest of the little girls moved ahead of her sisters to stand infront of me. She pointed at my name tag.

LITTLE GIRL: My name is Miranda too!
ME:  [Gasp!] That means you are also awesome!
MIRANDA: Uh huh! [she nodded]

I asked the usual round of questions I ask little kids in the summer. What grade are you in? Do you miss school? What's your favorite subject? What is the most fun thing you have done all summer? While they talked I noticed Miranda's freckles. What an adorable kid! She could land her own Disney show if she wanted.

ME: I love your freckles!
[Miranda sinks, her smile disappeared]
GRANDMOTHER: She doesn't like her freckles.
ME: Pish posh!  Freckles are the stars in the sky that fall to rest on your face! I WISH I had freckles like that!
[Miranda smiles again, shyly]
GRANDMOTHER: [in a whisper] Thank you!

I hope this little girl one day understands how pretty those freckles are. That goes for all kids with freckles. I get freckles of sorts every now and then but they are not the cute kind.

Crazy Red Head Vegan

CRV is sad...again.

I had a boost of energy from drinking a ton of coffee samples, which may have added up to a few ounces past insomnia. Having decided to use this extra energy to cheer CRV up, I walked over to bag her customer's groceries. I made a huge deal out of everything she handed me.

ME: Hold the phone...are these THE Sprouts dried cranberries?
ME: Chocolate covered banana chips?! Shut the front door!
CRV: You're a silly girl.

A half smile. Success. O.C. Daisy was working nearby and she grumbled something to CRV about some code or protocol. I was not paying attention since I tend to zone out when OCD speaks ogre. CRV's frown returned.

ME: Don't let her bother you. [I pointed to OCD, who's back was turned at the moment] It is a curse to be like her, do you understand? A curse.
[CRV nods]
ME: Let her be like that. [I made a showcasing gesture, ala Vanna White] Be happy that you are nothing like this.

CRV agreed. She resumed her work in what seemed to be a better mood. My work here was done.

Gaythan

One of the new cashiers that OCD trained the other day introduced himself to me. His name was Nathan. He used to be a manager at a Food Lion in Virginia. Everything he said began with, "When I worked at Food Lion...(bla bla bla)" That is what people do when transfer from another place (same with people in new jobs and new schools) The repetitive nature of that kind of phrase often goes unnoticed by the storyteller. Food Lion tales aside, Nathan seemed like a cool guy and he was very cute. He was, as Karen Walker from Will & Grace would say, "Gayer than a clutch purse at the Tony Awards,"  and he became very comfortable with me very quickly. I do love the gays. We will be sure to check out guys together.

Regifter-in-law

ME: Hi! How is your day going?
WOMAN: [sigh]
ME: That good, huh?
WOMAN: I have to cook dinner for my husband's mother.
ME: Ah, classic 'in-law' tension.
WOMAN: She hates me.
ME: That can't be true.
WOMAN: She got a free robe from a spa she went to and gave it to me for Christmas, after she had already shown me the robe before.
ME: Yikes. Her gifts to other people?
WOMAN: Thoughtful.
ME: Unacceptable. If I despised my daughter-in-law, I would never send her a regift. I may not spend much on her, but I wouldn't regift. That is rude on too obvious a level. I wouldn't want my family to actually KNOW I hated her.

I realized those words were not comforting. I urged her to drink a glass of wine before her mother-in-law arrived. She went to the back of the store to grab a cabernet sauvignon.

Old Man #8

ME: Hi there!
OLD MAN: No I'm not!

Richard Gere: Part Two

Richard Gere came into my line. YESSS....

RG: Hello!
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
RG: Good. Just buying more vegetables. I'm doing a juice fast.
ME: Healthy.
RG: Trying to be.

So far so good.

RG: So, do you...do you play the trumpet?

...and STOP. How the fuck does this guy know that I play the trumpet?! I didn't respond right away.

ME: Uh...
RG: Do you know Lisa?
ME: Oh my god. Tom!
RG: Yeah, it's me!
ME: I played trumpet and sang at your wedding! I didn't recognize you at all! (They divorced a year ago)
RG: Yeah, well my hair is grey.
ME: The beard is gone too, huh?
RG: Yeah. Do you talk to Lisa anymore?
ME: No. (That was a lie)
RG: Melody?
ME: I don't keep in touch with any of those girls anymore. (Also a lie)
RG: Oh well. It's good to see you, I'll see you around!
ME: Yeah! Take care!

Tom walked away as I held back my vomit. Tom was married to my friend Lisa for several years. Toward the end of their marriage Lisa found out that Tom was soliciting sex to strangers and prostitutes. She found emails. It was horrifying. She had to undergo tests to make sure she didn't have a disease. I can't imagine how much therapy this whole thing required. This man that she thought was the love of her life was SCUM. It was such a horrible ordeal and here this guy is, acting like he doesn't know who I am when he knew EXACTLY who I was. I had visited the home of him and his ex-wife tons of times in the past and I look exactly the same as when he last saw me those years ago. I later found out that he had been trying to contact Lisa, trying to find excuses to see her. I am SO glad I lied. Gross.


Update: Banshee

I noticed that OCD was called into the office with our general manager for a meeting. I wondered what it was and I was scared that it involved promotion. Banshee later informed me that employees had started complaining to the GM about the older lady cashiers ruining everyone's employment experience with their grumbling and old lady ways. Specifically, they were making the younger employees feel uncomfortable by insulting fellow co-workers on a regular basis. That is why OCD was called in. Apparently, Cake Eyes was called out by our GM in a similar meeting earlier that day.

Banshee had instilled a new "No Shit Talking" rule. If any employees are caught talking shit about a fellow employee, they are to be reported. The infraction will result in an instant write up.

Ah...JUSTICE.

Day Thirty One

Stingwich Reconn. #3

Before my shift began I stopped by the break room to drop off a salad in the fridge. Elvira was in there, eating a sandwich. I asked her if she had heard of any recent lunch robbery. She told me her lunch was stolen the previous week. She had to buy food and that was tough for her since she had just moved to a new apartment with her son. Money was tight. I felt bad for her.


No more reconnaissance, it's go time.

I went to my register and talked about the lunch thief with O.C.Daisy (now in a foot brace). I told her that I planned to buy sandwich materials and Ex-Lax after work to make a stingwich. She totally dug the idea. We brainstormed ways of covering up the laxative by means of crushing or grinding the drug. Daisy said I should make different types of sandwiches and use different containers. This was the best conversation that she and I had ever had. She was being really nice and wasn't full of bitterness like she usually is. Maybe there is a chance for friendship here.


Richard Gere: Part One

So, this song comes on:

I was tired enough to be goofy enough to start busting a move in front of the registers. I was also too tired and goofy to realize anyone else might be watching. From around the corner came an older female customer who decided to join me in the dance. She was ready to check out so I pulled her cart into my line while doing some dance move that could only be described as a slow motion seizure. When I turned around to face my customer, who was having a great time, I noticed I had another spectator: A younger version of Richard Gere dressed in medical scrubs, holding a basket full of vegetables. He smiled at me.


Heart: melted.

I told my customer, who kept grooving, to check out the guy who looks like Richard Gere in the register behind her. She inconspicuously walked over to his register, pretending to choose a magazine she wanted to buy. After checking the guy out, she walked back to me.

WOMAN: [handing me the magazine] No wedding ring and you're right, he does look like Richard Gere. He also looks good in those scrubs.
ME: Right? Doctor, I'm HURTIN'.
WOMAN: Yeah, we need mouth to mouth here.

I couldn't have asked for a better person/wingman to have this inappropriate conversation with. I saw him walking away after purchasing his vegetables and I wondered why I had not ever seen him here before. Maybe he is back from vacationing for half of the summer. Maybe he is one of those Doctors Without Borders. He came home and needed to fill his fridge with vegetables because he is an animal loving vegan. The version of this guy I have created in my head is quite the catch.

Maybe one day he will see past my ugly green t-shirt and carry me out of the store like this:

O.C.Daisy, Klepto Sue and Nil, The Girl Whose Name We Can't Pronounce

I found out why O.C.Daisy was being so nice earlier in my shift. She was given some head cashier duties for the day and was training two new employees. It was amazing to watch her be nauseatingly fake nice to the new people.

I was approached by a fellow cashier/grocery worker named...well I can't ever pronounce it...I'll call her Nil for now. Nil joined me in witnessing the spectacle of O.C.D.'s aspartame demeanor and I found out that she knew one of the new trainees. Apparently the new girl, Sue, used to work at another health food store in Denton, TX called The Cupboard, and she was fired for showing up late and for participating in a situation involving theft. Nil was a coworker of Sue at The Cupboard and was adamant in her refusal to be a reference on Klepto Sue's application. Nil is a cool, honest, sincere and hard working person, she didn't strike me as a gossip or a liar so I believed her. Klepto Sue later came over to help me bag groceries when the lines died down. She was friendly and personable but I remained leery.

I needed Daisy to swipe her card and enter code on my register for a return. The whole time she stood there, she grumbled about how Crazy Red Head Vegan had not come back from a break and I don't remember what else. I have begun to tune O.C.D. out as soon as she starts talking shit about others. As soon as she walked back to her trainees it was all half-toothed smiles and "Hiiii darlin'!" Ridiculous.

Update: Crazy Red-Head Vegan

It turned out that CRV took longer than a 15 minute break because she is having ANOTHER bad day. She began to tell me a sob story about how the love of her life has been deployed.

ME: Your boyfriend is in the military? Which branch?
CRV: He is not my boyfriend, he is in the Navy.
ME: Oh, so this is a guy you like? What about your boyfriend?
CRV: We broke up.
ME: Again?
CRV: We didn't really get back togeth-bla bla bla bla bla bla...

She kept talking and I stopped listening. She may have said something about writing letters. I don't know, I don't care. I don't give a shit about her drama anymore.

Petty Duke

A guy from the produce section came up front to notify one of our managers that there was a woman sampling one grape from each of the bags of grapes. All of the cashiers looked to the back of the store and surely enough, there she was, still plucking grapes. Daisy walked back to tell her that she can't do that. We all went back to doing our jobs but then a guy from the bulk section caught my attention. Petty Duke had made her way from the produce section to the bulk section. She stuck her hand in nearly half the bins she walked by, sampling nuts, dried fruits and candy.

There is a fine line between sampling and stealing and Petty Duke was crossing it. Our store allows sampling in the bulk section, but customers are supposed to ask bulk section workers for assistance. O.C.D. went up to her again and told Petty Duke to stop. I tried to figure out whether this woman was underprivileged or cheap. It was more likely to be the latter. She ended up buying a lot of food at Klepto Sue's register. How perfect.

Day Thirty

Old Lady # 8

A sweet old lady walked into my check out lane with her husband. As the husband unloaded groceries the old lady asked me how my morning was going. I replied, "So far, so good." I told her how had woken up early, walked the dogs, harvested some tomatoes, ate a good breakfast, did some chores and did a little bit of singing before coming to work.

OLD LADY: [in a gritty voice] Singing?! I used to love singing. I loved it. What voice are you?
ME: Believe it or not, [I said in my low voice] I am a soprano.
OLD LADY: Really! I was an alto. I was in my school's glee club and I would sing everywhere I go. Everywhere. It would drive him nuts. [pointing at husband]
ME: Do you still sing anywhere?
OLD LADY: I sang for a little bit in church, but it didn't last too long. I ruined my voice. I had to quit from smoking too much. [she then gave me a stern look] Do you smoke?
ME: No.
OLD LADY: [pointing her finger at my face] Good. Don't do it. Don't even start. You'll ruin your voice.

I felt bad for the old lady. When she talked about how she used to sing, it was with the bittersweet affection one would have when speaking of a lost love. Her voice, filled with regret, sounded like sandpaper being rubber against wood. I do have a couple of singer friends who smoke that are currently doing alright, so I wondered if this old lady just smoked several packs a day. Maybe to the point of almost eating the cigarettes? I heeded her warning, but I am also allergic to cigarette smoke so knew this would not be a problem for me. The couple paid for their groceries but before she left I had to ask this lady one last question.

ME: What was your favorite song to sing? [I handed her the receipt]
OLD LADY: [she smiled from the fond memory of her response] The Hallelujah Chorus. [taking the receipt and squeezing my hand] Have a wonderful day.

Buffalo Lady

It was busy for a moment in the store so my line was backed up. While checking out a customer, I heard a lady down my line talking to a girl  in front of her. The string of enthusiastically told, unrelated conversational topics was unmistakable. I looked up to see Buffalo Lady, smiling as usual. I kept an eye on the teenage girl in front of her, praying that she would be kind and thankfully she was. Eventually it was Buffalo Lady's turn to check out. I was totally ready for this.

BUFFALO LADY: Hellllllllo!!! You know, I once met a lady who the most beautiful long black hair. I asked her where she came from and she said that she came from [she paused for suspense, then with eyes wide open]...BANGLADESH!
ME: Ooh! Isn't that something?
BUFFALO LADY: Let me tell YOU something. My cat loves to eat my dinner food. I don't know why I buy her food at all! [slamming counter for emphasis]
ME: My dad used to feed my cat rice with a little bit of beef curry when I was a kid.
BUFFALO LADY: Did you know that chili peppers are hotter when they are smaller? I bought the wrong size and I was crying when I ate it! I'm telling ya, freezers are only cold when the door stays closed!
ME: Ice is always cold. Go for the ice.

I handed her a receipt and she waved goodbye before leaving. I wish I could have let her keep talking. Maybe next time when it is less busy I will let Buffalo Lady cut loose.

Old Man #7

Another old couple walked into my line. Once it was time to pay, the old man, who looked like Carl Reiner,  frowned at the credit card reader.

ME: Hit the green button if you want to pay with credit.
OLD MAN: I can't read it. I can't see anything on this darn thing! [He lightly backhanded the reader]
OLD LADY: Take off your sunglasses, dear.

Roz

Roz isn't a far cry from the Monster, Inc. character of the same name.

Roz is our bookkeeper. She stays in a locked office counting money all day long and wears a sweatshirt with the company logo on it. She smells funny and seems grouchy all of the time. Not necessarily mean, but grouchy. I used to call Roz every morning to find out when my shift started. I usually check the schedule for the next day whenever I countdown my till at the end of a shift but sometimes I forget to look. When that happens, I wake up at 7am and give Roz a call. At first, I thought she was cool with this. After once calling three days in a row for my schedule, Roz finally griped at me.


ROZ: Miranda! You need to copy down your stinkin' schedule! I don't have time for this.

Okay, damn...I made sure to never call Roz ever again after that. I copied my schedule or took pictures of it with my phone. Today, Roz stepped out of her office and looked at me.

ROZ: Miranda? You didn't call today. How did you find out when your shift started? [she smiled]

First of all, I wasn't aware that Roz could smile. Second, was Roz being funny?

MIRANDA: I took a wild guess?
ROZ: [she turned to Cake Eyes] Miranda didn't call today.
MIRANDA: I'm sorry, I will make sure I call you every morning from now on.
ROZ: [smile now gone] You better not.

Funny Roz went back into her office. Perhaps she is more than an old grouch. Maybe she has an interesting story to tell.

Stingwich Reconn. #2

I still had plans to take down the sandwich thief. I learned that the sandwich thief not only stole sandwiches but other food items as well. Everything except vegetables was at risk for being robbed from the break room fridge. I also had recently gathered information on a couple of suspects. One of them was one of the guys who worked in the bulk section. I had caught him a couple times reaching into the bulk bins to grab a quick snack, an activity that can only be best described as "grazing". Bulk Boy came into my line to purchase, of all things, a sandwich. I read the label: roast beef. So sandwich thief may have bought his sandwich today. Has he turned a new leaf? Has he reformed or do I have the wrong guy? There IS also Jay from the meat department. He never buys anything and never brings in a lunch. Jay also looks like he doesn't give a shit about some random person going hungry due to a stolen lunch. Just a hunch.

Update: Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really)

It had been weeks since I had seen Cute Guy so I asked Patti what the deal was. Apparently CG got called into the office for being late everyday. It wasn't just that, he always had a bad attitude and took really long breaks. Our general manager just tried to address this to him, not necessarily fire him for it. This is darn near the most difficult place to be fired from your job. CG didn't feel like being reprimanded, I suppose, because he decided to quit.

It is possible that CG is just a brat but I don't think that is what it is. I thought about how his mom died recently. He was living here in Texas because his mom lived here. His dad, the president of our company, lives on the West Coast. He has no reason or means to stay in Texas unless he is getting an allowance from his rich dad. I hope he is okay, wherever he is.

Restraint

A woman was unloading groceries on the belt and when she wasn't looking, her son picked up a carton of eggs out of the grocery cart.

WOMAN: [to her son] Put that back, NOW. You drop those eggs and I will MURDER you. Do you hear me? [the boy didn't put down the eggs, so she walked over and slapped her son on the arm, taking the eggs out of his hands]

I was so disgusted. Her son was mentally retarded. How could this woman be so acidic and say such a horrible, unloving thing? I didn't know what to say. Eventually that carton of eggs was in my hands. I wanted to hurl the eggs at this woman's face, but they made it into a plastic bag instead.

I gave her no eye contact for the rest of the transaction. Instead, I tried to smile at her son but he never looked at me, his eyes remained pointed to the floor. My heart sank. I wondered if his mom was always like this. Was this how she was raised? Did her mom or dad use death threats in lieu of simple commands? Was she mad that she was dealt this card? She was clearly not capable of learning the right things from having such a wonderful kid. I bet it is difficult, but there is no excuse for talking to a kid like that.

I didn't hand her the receipt, I just put it down somewhat within her reach. I didn't say goodbye or wish her a nice day. I just silently wished that she would become a better human being.

Day Twenty Nine

Zombie Sunday

After hours of working at the church this morning I made my way to the store to start my shift as a cashier. I forgot how much I used to look forward to a nap on Sunday afternoons. Waking up four hours before I sing, singing one or two services, being pleasant, friendly and helpful to everyone I meet and then busting ass trying to prepare a season of music for a choir...there is no amount of coffee that can keep me going after that. I stopped by the local Starbucks and get a latte anyway. I would hate for any of my customers to be a victim of my sleep deprived wrath. The latte ended up not helping. Maybe the Starbucks baristas were out to sabotage me by slipping me a decaf...

...monsters.

Emmy

I decided to give our manager, Emmy, a month's notice that I was going to quit. Upon hearing that I was going to be a trumpet prof. her eyes lit up. Apparently, Emmy also plays the trumpet. She played from middle school to high school, "Seven years total," she said with pride. She has a family full of instrumentalists. They get together at Christmastime and play carols.

EMMY: We have to play trumpet together sometime!! Do you know Johnny Be Good?
ME: Not really.
EMMY: [GASP] You don't know JOHNNY BE GOOD!?! [she proceeds to sing the trumpet part from, no doubt, an old marching band arrangement, pretending to hold up a trumpet] I still have my lyre that I used to read music from!

I didn't feel like telling her that I could play or transcribe any melody by ear. I didn't feel like telling her I mostly play classical and jazz music on a considerably more advanced level than that. At first I thought she couldn't differentiate the professional from the amateur, but I still couldn't bring myself to educate her.

EMMY: We SO have to play trumpet together. We'll play Johnny Be Good.
ME: Sure!

I truly do not believe that Emmy thinks the dichotomy in musical ability lies in whether you can play Johnny Be Good or not. I think she was just excited that we have a love of playing trumpet in common. After all, she plays for fun and I admire anyone who plays for fun, young or old. Playing a musical instrument is a special, wonderful thing to be able to do, no matter the ability level.

Updates:

J.V. continues to improve socially. Today we had a pleasant conversation about how tired I am.

I had a customer walk up who was wearing a military dog tag. Banshee was standing nearby. We talked about this customer's grandfather's service in WWII. Pretty cool. After he left I turned to Banshee and told her I have a dog tag on which I have been wanting to engrave the phrase, "Keep your feet on the ground, when your head is in the clouds." I want this phrase or a similar phrase engraved in a French translation because I think French is a beautiful language. She told me she studied French for years and would help me find a translation. Lately Banshee has become more fun. She still yells in an unpleasant fashion and I almost always wish I had a pair of earplugs whenever she pages anyone. She is starting to look pregnant again and maybe she is in a happy mood because of that. I dare not actually ask her if she's pregnant. Most pregnant women don't want to talk about pregnancy until they are ready to announce it. Sometimes they are not actually pregnant.

I found that a lot of people can't stand Copycat. People try to talk shit about her to me but I will never hear it. It seems that almost none of my coworkers have the patience to work alongside someone with autism. She has become more brave. Now she stops by everyone's till to wave goodbye, not just mine. Half the time she will say bye, wave and stay there at your till until you stop, look right back at her and say, "Goodbye Cat! Have a great evening!" Sometimes, she will then again say goodbye and you just have to stop and say goodbye to her again. This is not hard. I will seriously bite off the head of the next person who complains about her to me.

Apparently Crazy Red Head Vegan did not break up with her boyfriend.

CRV: My boyfriend and I went down to Dallas last night.
ME: Whoa, whoa, whoa...You're back together with him?
CRV: Yeah, I don't think we actually ever broke up.
ME: What...

I thought of all of the energy I spent trying to cheer her up or cover for her that one day she told me they split up. I felt highly annoyed as I do whenever I am the irrational bitch friend who consoles any of my freshly dumped, low self esteemed friends with wine, chocolate, kleenex and the general recovery slogan, "Fuck that guy, he's an asshole!"--only to find that they run back to the dickhead days later. From that point on, I made a point to never invest much of my mind or ear to CRV's drama. She later talked about her mother, about how she sits at home all day and does nothing, about how with her dad, she gives her mom tons of money and all she does is online shop. The mom doesn't help clean or cook and doesn't have a job. I didn't care. A lot of CRV's stories are sounding like tall tales and exaggerations.

Last but not least, I heard that O.C.Daisy possibly broke her foot. I can't say I feel sorry for her. I'm sure her foot hurts, but I was happy that I wouldn't have to see her for several days. It's hard to feel bad for or support someone who is mean to you. I was too tired to be a better person.

Day Twenty Eight

Update: Ghost Protocol

My favorite Jeremy Renner doppelganger was walking toward my line. Normally this would have set off the girly giggles in me but this time he was toting around more than his groceries. He had a beautiful Asian girlfriend with him. I would say "bummer" but again, there wouldn't have been a Taylor Swift love song to be written here in the first place. I wear an unflattering T-shirt at work and my hair has to be tied up. Why not go the whole nine yards and throw a net on my head so I can look like one of those perpetually bitter cafeteria ladies from my elementary school days? I digress.

I observed GP and his girlfriend. They didn't talk much, to me or to each other. They were the kind of couple that doesn't show any PDA. They both looked down the whole time. GP wasn't cordial like he was last time and the girlfriend stood aside while he packed the cart. Maybe GP doesn't want her to ruin her delicate hands. Maybe they were having a rough day. Maybe they are just a quiet beautiful couple. Ok, fine. I'll say it.

Bummer.

The Haters

A woman was about to wheel her cart into my empty line when her husband abruptly halted her and told her to go one line over, into O.C.Daisy's line where they would have to wait. I was baffled. I wondered if they were friends of Daisy or one of her regulars. I turned around and looked at them.

ME: Are you all having a good day?
MAN: We're fine. Thank you.

Hostility check, clear...but he spoke with a smidge of disdain. After they left I asked Daisy if she knew them. She said she didn't. I wondered why they chose to leave my line. Maybe I gave them bad service once. Maybe I forgot to hand them one of their bags that contained an important ingredient for the woman's cherry rhubarb pie recipe. Maybe that one incident alone ruined a very important dinner. Perhaps they like to get their groceries checked by a toothless old hag with bad hair. If that's the case then I totally get it. That's how I prefer my Waffle House waitresses to look.

Old Lady #7

It had been a while since an entertaining old person had walked into my line. This sassy old lady was fully clad in a track suit and matching sneakers capped off with a sun visor. She had a bunch of bulk items and like many others had forgotten the codes, but instead of watching me try to find the codes in our code book she apologized then darted off with impressive speed to the bulk section. I looked back to her with the annoyed faces of the customers waiting behind her in my peripheral. She was barely tall enough for me to see her. I then heard her shouting at the top of her lungs.

OLD LADY: DARK CHOCOLATE CHERRIES-6790!! [she walked to another item] FRIED OKRA-6110!! [and again moved to another item] CRANBERRIES-6248!!

This carried on until I scanned all 8 of her bulk items with uncontrollable laughter. She power walked back to me and said:

OLD LADY: See? We just need to work together, like on Sesame Street.

The I in Insecure

An Indian couple came into my line and after dropping their groceries off on the belt they stared at my face with inspection.

INDIAN MAN: Are you George's daughter?

I froze.

ME: Yes I am.
INDIAN MAN: We saw you direct the band last year. They were great!

I gathered that they went to church with my parents. I helped form a praise and worship band with some of the teenagers from that church for an inter-parish music competition. A competition I despised, but I was getting paid to teach them, so whatevs. All beside the point.

INDIAN MAN: Do you work here part time?
ME: Only for the next month. I got a job as an adjunct faculty member for a University and I will also be starting a job working as a choral director for a church in the same town. I finished my doctoral coursework in May. I needed something to do, you know?
INDIAN MAN: Right. Wow! Congratulations and good luck!

That was mostly the truth, but not the whole truth. I felt like such a loser for feeling the need to talk like that. I needed to work a summer job to earn money, pay bills and be able to go out and have a good time every now and then. I needed income to fill the gap between the end of my private teaching last May and the beginning of my new professional positions as an adjunct faculty member for a University and a choral director for a church in August. I was grateful for this current job. I needed it.

I have an insecure knee jerk reaction to Indian people inquiring why I am working a non-professional job at my age. Where many others are medical doctors, nurses, I.T. people, engineers, (you know, Indian people jobs) etc., I am finishing up schooling for what has been so far (and will always continue to be) an incredibly long journey of being a professional musician and teacher. This is a profession my parents refused to let me do at first. This is a profession that, when my brother went to school for Bassoon performance, some older Indian people from my parents' church laughed at him and said, "What are you going to do with THAT?" Even members of my extended family thought my parents were crazy for letting us go into music.

I guess I just wanted to let this Indian couple know that my parents didn't make a mistake in letting me pursue my dreams, that you can be successful in doing what you love. I wish I had the guts to just tell them the truth of the matter but I was afraid of judgement, afraid of how they would view my parents. I wish I had given this couple a chance to show me that they know better. Maybe next time.

Update: The Infamous Patti

Patti looked so sad today. She was sweet and kind as usual, but I could tell she was distracted. Once my shift was over she counted down my till in the office. I asked her if she was okay. She said, "No." Apparently her niece's apartment burned down to the ground. Her niece had stopped renter's insurance because she was laid off months ago. All of her belongings, destroyed, and not be replaced. Her nephew was then visiting her niece and staying over for a job interview he had in that town and many of his belongings went down in the fire as well.  Patti's niece is now staying with her parents, in the same house Patti is staying in. Patti gave her niece a ton of money to get back on her feet.

This woman has been through so much in the past year and yet she still manages to be the nicest person at this store. She has shown me that none of us really have a good excuse to be anything but kind. Sometimes it requires a tremendous amount of strength, but it is always possible.

Day Twenty Seven

Employee Depreciation Day

I had seen flyers about "Employee Appreciation Day" for a week now. There were going to be drawings, contests and food all day long. I was pretty stoked. I got to work at 4pm, only to find that all of the contests were over. Apparently Crazy Red-Head Vegan won a $25 gift card to Macaroni Grill. I went to the back room where I was told all of the food was located. All that was left was meat and cake. As a vegan, I was pretty bummed to see this. I didn't make my lunch because I thought I would somehow get fed. I grabbed a bottle of water and went up front to start my shift.


I can't believe how mad this made me. I couldn't be joyful in front of my customers, I couldn't even fake it. The flyers should have had a byline:

"Employee Appreciation Day: Unless you show up at 4pm and don't eat meat, hippie."

In a nutshell, the management was saying, "We appreciate the asshole who steals lunches from the break room more than we appreciate you, Miranda." The one girl who has celiac disease was covered because she made noise about it. Apparently she was the mad person last year. They provided her with gluten free hamburger buns.

I was the mad one this year. In addition to the appreciation day faux pas, every little irksome thing would disappoint me. Head cashiers would forget to put me on break and after many failed  attempts to give them the "stink eye" I would just let myself on breaks. My customers and CRV tried to cheer me up but it was useless. CRV would have been as mad as I was if she didn't win that gift card.

It didn't make sense that I would be so angry. After all, my family's gatherings are a parade of cows and chickens and I never get mad at my relatives for being insensitive to my diet. I tried to figure out if something else was going wrong in my life or if I just need a break. Whatever it was, I was unhappy. I could do no better than be slightly melancholy but cordial toward the people who came in my line.

Victim #1

Yes, victims. I felt like all of my customers were victims of my sad service. I'm sure whatever these people did would have been blown off or otherwise gone unnoticed.

Along came a woman who stepped into my line. Just as I was about to grab her first item, another customer walked up to ask me a question. Since I paused to help the inquiring shopper, my current customer picked up her things and moved over to the next line, where she waited behind one customer. This little incident had me fuming like this guy:

Seriously? She couldn't wait 30 seconds?! In the time it took this woman to get through her new line, three customers flew through my line. With every single one of them I made sure to address how busy it is in the store and how great they were for being so chill about it. I said, "THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT," blatantly louder and louder with each new person. I was so obnoxious. I'm not proud of it.

Victim #2

A man walked up with a few items that my bagger placed in his reusable bag once I scanned them.


MAN: Dang, do you hate chicken or somethin'?

I stopped. I just realized was tossing all of his food items to the end of my counter. I looked to the right, over at his chicken, it was such a sad sight. It laid there, face down, more beaten and lifeless than it already was. I just then recalled the loud SLAP the chicken had just made against the surface.

ME: Oh my god, I am so sorry.
MAN: I was about to say...
ME: I can get you another chicken. I'm so sorry.
MAN: Bad day?

I admitted that I was in a mood. I apologized a million more times and he was forgiving. We eventually were laughing about it. He got me to laugh at myself a little. I appreciated that.

Sweetheart

I was jotting down notes on how much I hated my day as my next customer walked up. I kept writing as she put groceries up on the belt. I saw a divider go up and out of the corner of my eye, I saw this woman's little daughter put some candy in the front of the belt.


DAUGHTER: I'm sorry I didn't bring my money.

I stopped writing. I looked up. This little girl had as much remorse on her face as she had in her voice.

MOTHER: It's alright sweetheart, you can pay next time.
ME: Does she usually pay for her sweets?
MOTHER: She likes to earn money and spend what she earns.

I felt my spirits lifting. What an angel. As the receipt printed, I gave a lollipop to the girl, who was chewing on the sweets her mom bought for her.

MOTHER: Aw, isn't that nice? What do you say, sweetheart?
[she didn't respond, because she was chewing]
ME: It's okay, she's chewing and doesn't want to talk with her mouth full.
DAUGHTER: [finally done chewing] Thank you. [she smiled, then popped another piece of candy in her mouth]
ME: You know what? I think you are the best human being I have met all day.
DAUGHTER: [chewed for a while (again), then after she swallowed her candy she laughed and spoke] Thank you.

I laughed, so thankful for this little person.

Physicist

It was enough of a blessing seeing Sweetheart, but along came another gem. This young boy was begging his mom for a National Geographic magazine.

MOM: Fine, you can have it but it is coming out of your allowance.
BOY: Yesssssssssssss.

If this was any ordinary kid begging for candy, I might have been annoyed but I found this adorable.

ME: Are you really interested in science?
BOY: Uh huh!
MOM: He LOVES science.
ME: What is your favorite science? [the boy had his head dug into the magazine already and he wasn't paying full attention]
MOTHER: He LOVES physics.
ME: Physics, huh? [the boy nodded enthusiastically] What do you want to be when you grow up?
BOY: A physicist! [I should have known he would say that]
ME: Ha! What kind?

He shrugged his shoulders and kept reading. He had not made it that far, nor does he have to. I loved that he was so into learning. He was cheesing from the very moment his mom let him have that magazine. That kind of happiness is contagious, I couldn't help but smile.

Perspective

I had a slew of customers that put my mind right, starting with those kids and ending with this next woman. She, an amputee, rolled up in a wheelchair, got out of it, placed all of her groceries on the belt and greeted me with the biggest smile I had seen all day. I checked out her groceries, we laughed about the unreal power of the bulk section's dark chocolate and then she hopped up to the card reader to pay. She got around quick and was very friendly. I began to offer her help outside but before I could finish my sentence she had already grabbed her food and was waving me goodbye. The whole thing happened so fast I had to think about it for a while after she left.

I wondered what happened to her, how did she lose her leg? She was so happy and kind, she must have an amazing support system. Did she escape death or was this a card she was dealt at a young age? There she went, like a bolt, off to do the next thing and here I was, bitching about employee appreciation day with both of my legs. I became instantly embarrassed about the way I had acted all day.

Sweet Nate

If I were to have a motorcycle gang of hit men ala The Lincoln Lawyer, I would imagine they would be grown up versions of our grocery baggers. I should say my grocery baggers. These young guys go to bat for me every time. Even if another person's line is busier, they sometimes stick around mine and I appreciate it. Maybe that's because not many of the other cashiers talk to them. They are usually 16 or 17 years old where the rest of us are in our 20s, 30s and up. I always make sure to greet them and thank them for helping. It is a total luxury to have someone helping pack groceries, it makes everything go much faster and it also gives me more people to talk to. The grocery baggers make fun of me for not processing the fact that they are there to help sometimes. I'll sit there and chat with them while I pack my customer's things by myself.

Sweet Nate has made a point to announce that he is there to assist. He'll walk up and say, "Hello, Miranda. My name is Nate and I am here to assist you." This actually helps me to stop doing things by myself. Nate is always kind to the customers and his coworkers. He seems like the kind of guy that really respects his mother. You can always tell when a guy loves his mom. Another thing I adore about Sweet Nate is that he is constantly revealing his age. For example:

CRV: [Strangers in the Night plays overhead] Shoo-beeeee-doo-bee-dooooo....
NATE: Where are you!
ME: Um, Nate? That isn't the Scooby-Doo theme song.
NATE: Really?


...and laughter.

Day Twenty Six

Today I was given a pin to commemorate the 10th anniversary of our store. The company's #2 man from corporate was supposed to be in to check on things so everyone was actually obeying the rules for once and the whole place was spotless. The whole thing gave me a renewed sense of purpose since I normally dread working the day before I have a two day break. My day always goes slowly before I have days off.

Code "Chili Pepper"

Cashiers page two different codes, code 1 and code 5. Both involve the head cashier or supervisor's scan key to continue the purchase. I was checking out a customer when Sally Spec came over.


SALLY: Dude, code "chili pepper" on register 5.
ME: Huh? [I looked behind me, to register 5, and saw a really buff customer buying groceries] Oh...

I didn't think he was that hot, but the great thing was, Sally discovered an excellent new way to communicate that I should check out a good looking guy nearby. This didn't last too long, as Sally got more and more obvious about it as we carried on. Sally was two lines down from me on register 8, when she turned around to see Elvira's customer, a young Dylan McDermott look alike. She very conspicuously nodded her head in his direction and said, "Miranda, Code 'chili pepper' on register 7." Why didn't she just say, "Hey Miranda, look at this hot guy right here!" Anyway, I looked and said, "Affirmative." He had to have seen this and understood what was being said because he turned around to smile at me.

Embarrassing. If I didn't have brown skin I would have been blushing. I moved to abolish this code immediately. Even if we were to use something less obvious, like "code 6," Sally would probably make our communication transparent by repeatedly pointing in the direction of the guy she is talking about.

Binary

I saw this shirt and didn't get it.

I asked the kid wearing it what it meant and he began to explain binary code to me. "10 in binary actually means 2." I laughed. How geeky! Sally, who was bagging my groceries, still didn't get it so the kid continued to explain. It wasn't what this kid was saying, but the enthusiasm for the subject that made me find him adorable. This kid looked like he goes to math club meetings after school and tutors his crush, who is probably the prettiest girl in school, who only has eyes for the quarterback. His braces and non-hipster, unintentional nerd glasses were the icing on the cake. He told me he wants to be a programmer and I am pretty sure he'll succeed. I hope he will always be excited about and love what he does for a living. That, to me, is a real dream. I do also hope he gets the girl.

No Cheese With This Whine

A woman and her daughter came through my line with an enormous amount of food in their cart. Every time I rang in something that cost over two dollars, the woman would grunt or say something like, "Ya'll are about to take off my right arm," or, "Can you believe the price of those cherries?" I never responded, but if I did respond I would say, "Would you please shut the hell up?" Every once in a while she would break away from complaining to me to turn, place one had on her hip (wherever that was) and complain to her daughter.

MOTHER: Those organic bananas cost $2.17!
DAUGHTER: I need potassium! It is also good for energy.
[more items were scanned]
MOTHER: That WHEY PROTEIN costs $19.99!
DAUGHTER: It has 30 grams of protein per serving! I need protein!
MOTHER: THAT ORGANIC CANTALOUPE COSTS $2.49!!

Oh my god SHUT UP! Shut up shut up shut up!!!!

The whole purchase ended up being over $250. It wasn't the daughter's fault, either. The mother said something about trying to eat healthy. Good for them, eat healthy but stop whining about it!

Observation

Parents with sick children at home are not down for conversation. Especially if they are working parents. One lady came through my line and when I asked how she is doing she didn't have much to say after she told me she had a sick child at home. I could see that her mind was racing, that she was stressed out. She didn't respond to anything I said after that. I tried to get her out faster, she must have had a million things to do. I have only ever had a sick dog and that makes me lose my marbles. I can only imagine how bad it is to have a sick child. Just an observation.

Update: O.C.Daisy

Daisy was being horrible as usual and was once again a topic of conversation between me and Sally. Crazy Redhead Vegan joined us and let us in on some background information. Apparently, Daisy was supposed to be a head cashier but somehow she didn't end up being one. It fell through due to a glitch in her paperwork. I get it now. Daisy is bitter. She could be earning more money, but can't get promoted for some reason. I imagine anyone else who comes in, that does a good job, is an instant enemy in her eyes. Anyone who doesn't listen to her makes her look bad, since she is trying to prove to others that she is worthy of a supervisor position. This doesn't really explain why she talks shit about people all of the time, but it is a little bit of insight. No wonder she calls everyone "darling," she is trying to be personable. Personable, but SO fake.

Giggles

Relief. I finally found my best audience. This kid laughed at everything. EVERYTHING! Anything I said or did made this kid laugh. Peek-a-boo? Laughing. Ringing up his toy dog on the scanner and making "boop" sounds? Laughing. Telling the kid the dog isn't for sale. Laughter. Putting the dog in a bag. So much laughter. The kid started to climb the side of the belt to be rung in as well. The mom took him off and said, "You're not for sale either." The most laughter of all. He only stopped to catch his breath and he held his tummy as he let out whatever giggles he had left. Normally, one would have to be high to laugh that much. Whatever this kid has, it needs to be bottled, replicated and sold. It was nice to see that much joy in one little person.

Day Twenty Five

C'mon Latte...

I do not need to retell the dangers of my being tired, hungover or both. Today I was TIRED. I sang at a service this morning and logged in some office hours afterward. I left the office to come here and stand on my feet for 8 hours. By the time I reached the store I realized that I had already been awake for 9 hours. I forgot how much energy is required of me to do what I do as a choral director/solo singer at a church: Be ultra-friendly, have perfect posture, stand in heels, solve problems, have my mind fixated on constantly breathing, plan music, etc. I decided that Sundays would be the day I drink a latte between jobs. Today I had a sneaky feeling that Starbucks (or "Fourbucks" as a friend calls it) slipped me a decaf. I never regained speed. You know you're tired when the mere mention of a customer deciding to have a "lazy day" reduces you to tears.

Updates

Speedy Gonzales returned to work today. she had been gone so long that I thought she quit. Today she was not as quick as she usually is, not as spastic either. Maybe being tired is contagious.

Serious Stu engaged in conversation with me for the first time. He seems very nice. Not funny, but nice.

I went to Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really)'s register to buy five dark chocolate covered almonds. He gave me shit for using my discount card on 39 cents of food. I understand how ridiculous it looks, but I gave myself a $1 snacking limit at work. CG doesn't understand what it means to have to be on a budget, perhaps since he is the son of the president of the company. Life must be really hard for that guy.

I found out that my head cashier, Ryan, has been dating Sally Spec for 8 months. OooooOOOOoooooh! I am happy for them. They don't act like a couple in the store at all. They do this because head cashiers are not allowed to fraternize with cashiers. Before they dated, Ryan would call Sally from work to get her to cover for someone, then used that phone call as an excuse to talk to her. Cute.

According to Sally, O.C.Daisy is still giving me dirty looks. I the next time I work next to her I think I will talk about dental care.

Social Sue

This woman was impressive. She was second in my line, talking to my current customer about something she was going to buy and laughing to the side to catch the attention of the male customer in the line opposite mine, grabbing the attention of both the customer his cashier. She expanded the social space to customers behind her as well, gathering their commentary. She had everyone talking and she was in the center of it all, with a cackling but contagious laugh. I don't even remember what the subject was, maybe hummus. All I know is the joyful, slightly crazy woman had everyone smiling, laughing and talking to each other. What's so hard about world peace, again?

A Word of Advice:

Own up to your mistakes. A woman came through my line and didn't put the PLU number on the bulk item she bought. I rang the item up as raw almonds. I should have asked her what it was, but the line was long and I wanted to move a bit faster to get people out of there. Later on that night, the woman came back, saying I rang her up for the wrong  item. I apologized. My manager came over to handle the exchange. The correct PLU would have rung her up for an item that was 86 cents. She was mad that she had to drive back up to the store to get this corrected. She insisted that she put the number on there. I, for damn sure, know that she didn't. I stuck to my story. If I saw a PLU code I would have entered it. The more I said, "I saw no number," the angrier she became. Then after my manager exchanged the prices, she said she wanted a different new bag of almonds because he touched the bag. We ended up having to throw her almonds away. So what I gathered was this: She wasted more than her return in gas to come back to the store and lie about how she didn't follow procedure then bitch about the necessary procedure of handling a bag for a price correction. We would have given her the money back even without the lies and dramatics. What a piece of work.

Observation:

People from London are so charming when they speak English. They say "lovely" instead of "thanks" and "cheers" instead of "bye." When my English customers come by, I am whisked away to a marvelous place where all I do is sip tea and wear fancy hats. Also, when you bring up where they are from they instantly refer you to the best Indian restaurant in the city. I'm thinking that may be just because I am Indian, but also, maybe they would divulge that information anyway. Just an observation.

Day Twenty Four

Donna Draper

I walk into work and my head cashier immediately pulls me aside.


RYAN: We need you to do an ad for ribs.
ME: Seriously?
RYAN: Yeah, you have the best announcer voice.

Wow. I didn't know all of the really slow "Clear Eyes" style announcements would earn me such an opportunity. Ryan gave me all of the details so that I could write a good "commercial." He said I only have a few minutes to write it and that I had to make this announcement every 15 minutes. I got to work and came up with this:

"Attention customers! Are you sad that the 4th of July is over? Well turn that frown upside down! We are keeping the festivities going by grilling out in the front of our store! Sink your teeth into some freshly smoked, savory, pork ribs for only $10.99 per rack. Hurry and get them while they last, supplies are limited and as always, thank you for shopping at [insert store name]!"

After I announced this, applause broke out from my fellow cashiers. Apparently my manager and head cashier think I am really good at it. I had to do it again every fifteen minutes, so I decided to come up with a new ad each time. This was my second one:

"Don't know what to cook for dinner tonight? Let us do the cooking for you! Stop by the grill in the front of our store and get your hands on our freshly smoked, savory, pork ribs! They're a steal at $10.99 per rack and they are selling quickly so hurry and get yours soon! As always, thank you for shopping at [insert store name]!"

I kept this up for the rest of the time the ribs were being cooked. It was totally fun and it gave me an excuse to close my line down. An old man walked up to me after I made one of the announcements.

OLD MAN: You don't talk like that normally. [pointing his finger at me] That's not what you talk like!

He laughed and walked away. I guess I don't normally talk like that. Busted.

Chocolate

My store always has one dark chocolate covered fruit or nut on sale. This week's sale was amazing. Dark chocolate covered almonds were $2.99 per pound. I had to try them. I bought ten of them and popped five of them into my mouth, one by one, for a snack. I let the chocolate slowly melt over my tongue and what followed was instant euphoria. The rest of my day went well. I was in such a great mood!

An old lady came into my line and after purchasing groceries and she forgot a bag when she walked away. I ran off mid transaction to catch her, only to notice she had not made it out the door yet. She was grateful that I brought her bag to her and I was grateful that she walks so slow. It's hot outside, you know?

I decided to make this a conversational point to my next customer whose transaction I continued.

ME: It's a good thing that lady doesn't walk to fast otherwise I would have had to go outside!
LADY: COULD YOU MOVE IT ALONG PLEASE? THREE CUSTOMERS HAVE ALREADY LEFT FROM THIS OTHER LINE!!

I couldn't help what happened next. I started moving slower. REALLY slowly. I stopped to stare longer than usual at every PLU code on each fruit or vegetable (even the ones I had memorized). I took my time finding where the UPC symbol was located on each tiny box. I took my time getting my pointer finger to hit "Total" and I spoke slowly when I told her what her total was. I took my time to hit to hit the "Debit/Credit" key and I slammed it with unusual force. The lady, in response, swiped her card with anger. Angerrrrrrrr!!!!!

It was so hard to keep from laughing. I waited for the card to be approved and started to have a conversation with myself in my head.

INNER MONOLOGUE: Do I care about getting fired?
[the receipt printed out]
INNER MONOLOGUE: No.

ME: [holding on to her receipt, I face her from my printer] You know ma'am, if you're in a rush, all you have to do is let me know...and I'll move faster. [I flashed a smile that said, "Go fuck yourself."] Have a nice day!
LADY: [in a much calmer fashion than previously] Thank you, you too. [she took the receipt and left]

Miranda-1
Bitch-0

If I hadn't had those five dark chocolate covered almonds I wouldn't have given as little of a shit as I did with that woman. I was in a fabulous mood the whole time she was horrible to me. No one could make me mad. Dark chocolate covered almonds. I'm pretty sure they all contain a pinch of heroine. Next time I'll check to see if my pupils dilate.

Update: Heartless Lucy

I still don't like Lucy. I'll like her as soon as I know her dog is in a better home with a more responsible owner. She came into the store with her boyfriend. Today was her birthday. A bunch of the cashiers asked me to sing "Happy Birthday" over the speakers. Ugh, fine. I invited the customers to sing along as well. Crazy Red-Head Vegan tried (failed) to throw me off by singing off pitch, on purpose, for the entire song. Lucy told me she really appreciated my singing. I should have told her that she can appreciate me better by taking care of her dog.

A Word of Advice:

Keep it classy. Don't wrestle with your mother over who pays for five dollars of food. I don't mean wrestling as a metaphor, I mean please do not literally wrestle with your elderly mother over who pays for five dollars of food. An elderly lady began to try swiping her debit card to pay for a little bit of food. Her daughter flew in to try and stop her. These women, mother and daughter, were both gripping the debit card and pulling in opposite directions. It was a sad sight. It took a minute for the younger daughter to get the debit card away from her mother. I should have done the young woman a favor and slapped her across the face. Be more respectful to your mother, you flippin' idiot.

Day Twenty Three

Update: O.C.Daisy

Sally Spec was hanging out at the end of my register but talking to someone else, so I assumed she was there to hang instead of help. I looked at her to see if she wanted to bag groceries for my current customer but she never looked back so I bagged the food myself. Eventually Sally turned toward me.

SALLY: I can help you, you know.
ME: You weren't paying attention to me so I did the bagging.
SALLY: Aw, I'm sorry!
ME: I'm needy. I need constant attention all of the time.

We finished this customer's transaction and Sally stuck around to help and converse with me. Once the rush died down, Sally stepped closer to me and said:

SALLY: Dude, Daisy hates you.
ME: Really?
SALLY: Yeah, you stepped away for a second and she was like, 'What the hell was she talking about being needy?' I said I'm not going to talk trash about you.
ME: Huh.
SALLY: Every other minute she was turning around and giving you weird looks and rolling her eyes for what you were saying to your customers.

What is Daisy's problem? Is she jealous that I have all of my teeth and she doesn't? She has nothing better to do than mind her own damn business? Man, people are bored here. I'm glad that Sally is on my side. She told me she would inform me of every time Daisy talks shit about me. If it's enough I will confront that toothless over-sized marshmallow and ask her why she is such a bitch.

Doctor's Orders

My brain felt screwed up this morning. I was working slowly and making mistakes here and there and I couldn't blame it on a hangover. A couple came up to my register.

WOMAN: How are you?
ME: Eh, not so good. I am drained. My brain feels messed up.
WOMAN: Have you been outside?
ME: Yeah, I just was.
WOMAN: That's it. You're dehydrated. It's too hot to drink your normal amount of water. Get some water.
ME: You're right, and I haven't had much water today.
WOMAN: See?
MAN: [pushes his wife aside and brings his face close to mine] Well, I think if you drink a case of beer every time the temperature is over a hundred, you will live a longer, happier life.
ME: Is that so...[I looked at his shirt] Dr. Boca Raton?
MAN: HA! HAHAHA. That's right, Dr. Boca Raton. I'm a brain surgeon.

The guy was very clearly drunk. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was July 5th and this couple took vacation days to get the whole week off. Why not do some grocery shopping while being sensationally tanked? His advice may have been slightly invalid, the "longer life" part of it anyway. Drinking a case of beer every time the temperature reaches over 100 degrees means being drunk everyday for two months in Texas. One might be happy though!

Old Man

OLD MAN: Hello, nice person!
ME: How do you know I am a nice person?
OLD MAN: God don't make trash, my dear.

Signature T-Shirts

I am normally a very anti-signature t-shirt person. Signature tees are for teenagers who are trying to defy adulthood while they skateboard on private property. Today was a pretty boring day though, boring enough to make me laugh with appreciation when I saw a customer wearing this:

Udpate: Crazy Red-Head Vegan


There is never shortage of bonkers shit that CRV has to say. Take today, for example:

CRV: I really need to release my bowels, but I CAN'T here.
ME: Why is that?
CRV: Because somebody already did and she stunk up the place!

For starters, I don't engage in poop talk. I know a lot of people do, they are very comfortable with it. I have no problem talking about it but I think there are far more interesting and stimulating things to talk about. So, CRV will not take a shit somewhere unless it smells like lavender? Is this the pooping equivalent of the palate cleansing sorbet at dinner or the coffee beans you smell before testing the next perfume at Sephora?

Lollipops

For the first few days of my "good kid lollipop" project, only 2-3 kids were receiving organic pops each day. Too many bratty, whiny or misbehaving kids were coming through my line. This was until today of course.
I gave out 14 lollipops today. FOURTEEN. Kids were so sweet, helping out their parents, being quiet or making pleasant conversation with me. I stopped the lollipop giveaway just before 15 pops, when I saw a young boy helping out his dad by putting groceries on the belt and removing packed bags to put them in the cart. This kid looked about 8 years old.

KID: No, thank you.
ME: Wow, I have never seen a lollipop denied before. Is this a 'don't take candy from strangers' thing?
DAD: Oh no, he just likes to help and doesn't want gifts for helping.
ME: Wow. What an amazing kid.
DAD: He is wonderful.

Eight years old, just out helping dad with shopping. Rare. I love it.

Day Twenty Two

It's the 4th of July. Finally, a day where I can share holiday greetings with customers without offending anyone. I can't say it on Mother's Day or Father's Day, you never know who has been abused by their parent, lost a parent, grew up in an orphanage or simply hates their parents. Greetings on religious holidays? I dare not. "Happy 4th of July," thankfully worked for everyone...except one woman.

ME: Hi! Happy 4th of July!
WOMAN: Ugh, 4th of July...the way this country is going I should move to Canada.
ME: [no response]

This woman lingered to bitch just a little more then she left. The next customer walked up.

MAN: Sheesh.
ME: No kidding, I wanted to say, "Move it along, sister." Someone is not very patriotic.
MAN: No kidding. You know, the border is not closed in either direction.
ME: Right?? [I laughed] By the way, Happy 4th of July!
MAN: [he laughs] Happy 4th of July!

Update: Crazy Red Head Vegan

I worked in the register next to CRV. When I walked up, I saw her frowning.

ME: What's wrong?
CRV: I'm not feeling well. I need to go home.
ME: Oh no! What's wrong?
CRV: I just feel sick.
ME: Sick how?
CRV: My boyfriend broke up with me. He wants to be with someone else he knows.
ME: Oh no. Been there.
CRV: I can't leave because I feel like I am about to get fired.
ME: Okay, well then if you feel like you need to cry, walk away and cry. I'll take customers in your line.

Our system worked out well. CRV cried a few times and darted off to howl a little bit. Been there. It sucks. You have to keep living, especially if you have a job. You can't take a day off because of a fresh breakup. I made a point to act a fool all day around CRV. Later in our shift I asked kids to sing patriotic songs for me. Most were too embarrassed to do it, but eventually I found one that kind of knew a song, "The Fifty Nifty United States," where the singer sings the name of all 50 states in alphabetical order. I started singing it with this little boy, but he eventually stopped because he forgot the lyrics. I of course charged ahead.

CRV heard me do this, I looked like a complete ass and I sang with an embarrassing amount of authority. She laughed pretty hard.

CRV: Oh my god, you are the only reason why I am laughing right now.
ME: You are welcome.

CRV was cheerful for the rest of her shift. Sally Spec came along to act nuts with us. I'm glad she felt better. I like working in a positive environment so I try to do what I can to make everyone feel happy. I advised CRV to go to a bar with friends or a party or something. I told her to be around friends instead of going home to be alone. She followed my advice and went to a barbeque.

Observation

Babies always want to eat inedible things in a grocery store. Boxes, pens, the grocery cart handle, plastic bags, etc. I am about to be an aunty so I become a little more of an idiot around babies each day. I have begun to analyze little things infants do like how they grab everything in sight. I think this ability to grab is the equivalent of a superhuman power to them. Babies can't really do shit (well, except shit). Once they discover they can grab and hold on to anything they abuse this power in any and every way they can, especially in a store. This annoys most parents, but I find it hilarious (as long as the item grabbed doesn't wind up in the wrong place). I find this very fascinating. The only problem with grabbing is that babies will stick whatever they are holding into their mouths. While mom or dad is grabbing for groceries, the baby is grabbing a coupon book and is attempting to stuff it into his face. It is edible for all he knows. So funny. Just an observation.

Serious Stu

So the new manager has qualities that make some people think he is good looking. CRV thought he was hot but eventually told me that he seems a little bit like a tool. Sally Spec thought he looked like an ex of hers. To get along I decided to chat with him a little. He was in one of the offices pouring barbeque sauce into to-go cups because we were selling ribs over the next two days.

ME: Are you pouring drinks for us? That's so nice.
STU: Actually these are to-go cups of barbeque sauce for the ribs tomorrow.
ME: [pause] I know, I was joking.
STU: Oh. [he continues pouring]

Um...

So eventually I was about to leave work. While counting down in the office with Ryan, Stu burst through the door and caught us off guard.

ME: Stu! Knock next time! What if Ryan and I were making out? That would have been so awkward for you!
STU: Well actually it would have been embarrassing for you. There is a camera in this room.

Oh my GOD.

Ryan and I exchanged quizzical looks. Stu has no sense of humor. I'm sure after a while we will be chummy but for now he is Serious Stu. I later found out that Stu is Heartless Lucy's cousin. Lucy told Stu about what CRV said and now maybe he thinks he is hot shit so he now he also acts strange around all of the girls. Stupid Lucy.

Day Twenty One

Ivory Magazine

It was pretty dead in the store so I decided to do something we're not allowed to do as cashiers, read magazines. I flipped through D Magazine, a magazine about Dallas/Fort Worth life. The cover looked like this:

I began to flip through the pages. It was looking pretty...well, "Caucasian." I kept turning pages one by one and I made it through the entire magazine (two hundred-something pages) to see only nine people of color. NINE, out of hundreds of pictures. Hundreds! I have lived in the Dallas area all of my life. If you spend 2 minutes in the store I work for, or anywhere in Dallas, you would see at least ten different cultures. Does this magazine mean to say that the best suburbs only have white people in them? I was appalled. I started a conversation with every customer who flipped through this magazine while waiting in line. My customers, all of whom were disappointed, volunteered more appropriate titles for the feature. Some highlights:

"White People, Look No Further!"
"How to Be Brown Free"
"Ivory Magazine: An Ebony Magazine Affiliate"
"We All Have One Black Friend"
"Sunburnt? You're In Great Company!"


One woman actually bought the magazine, saying she is a realtor. She was Asian. The magazine did have hundreds of photos of realtors, white realtors, some posed standing in unaffordable homes. We discussed how there are so many realtors of different races in DFW, that this month's D magazine was a shame. I thought about tossing all of those magazines away. Of course I would get in big trouble so I didn't do it. Trouble is for when I turn in my two week notice. Thankfully not many of this month's D Magazine sold in my store while I was working. The best part of all? All of the babies in the cover photo are crying angrily.

Update: Elvira

Elvira walked by me before the start of her shift. She was smiling. Smiling!! During my shift I would catch her singing little nonsense wordless songs. Usually I only find that to be cute when little kids do that but considering how Elvira used to be around me, I found her hums to be delightful. I reminded myself that I need to find a good tofu recipe for her. It looks like Elvira has ended up not being so bad.

Update: Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really)

Cute Guy was listening to a conversation I had with a customer who was trying to use the credit card reader.

ME: Scan the card there.
CUSTOMER: It's not working.
ME: Try swiping upwards.
CUSTOMER: [swipes upward] Okay that worked.
ME: You just canceled. Did you hit the red button? If you want it to be a credit transaction you have to hit the green button. Try swiping again.
CUSTOMER: [swipes card upward again] Okay. It says, 'Is $26.30 okay?' What if I don't think it's okay?
ME: [I laugh] Then you can't have your groceries.
CUSTOMER: [tries to prod the 'OK' screen button with his finger, which doesn't work]
ME:  Sir, you have to use the electronic pen.
CUSTOMER: Oh, geez. Okay. [Uses pen to hit 'OK' button]
ME: Please sign on the screen.
CUSTOMER: So many questions.
ME: Now enter your last five addresses.
CUTE GUY: Then do a retinal scan.
ME: Next we'll draw your blood.
CUTE GUY: Criminal background check.
ME: [The receipt prints out and I hand it to the customer, who laughs] Sorry, our card reader is a pain. I wish we could take a hammer to it. I think I'll do that on my last day, Office Space style.

Cute Guy then told me about how he had an ex-girlfriend who's house had no key entry, but each door had a thumbprint scanner. Crazy. So I'm getting little stories here and there from Cute Guy. I'm glad he feels more comfortable talking to me. We're getting along!

Update: Heartless Lucy

Lucy always wears her hair straight. He hair is naturally curly and she doesn't really have the art of straightening her hair down so her hair doesn't look too good most days. Today she let it be curly. It looked nice and I complimented her. She had been surveying all of our coworkers in the store. All of the girls liked it curly and the guys liked it straight. She thought her curls were frizzy and she didn't really like it. I tried to give her tips but I think anything I said fell on deaf ears.

I tried my best to be cordial with Lucy. I still disliked her for how irresponsible she was being about her dog. I asked about the pup and she said she almost found an owner but it fell through. I offered to help find a foster parent for it, someone to help train the dog so that it has a better chance of being adopted. She refused the help and was getting a little irritated about it. She hates this dog and someone wants to help but she didn't want to bother anyone with it. Lucy thinks she inconveniences everyone. That's the vibe I get. I want to shake her really hard and slap her across the face. That poor dog. I wish I could break into her house and save it. She would probably end up feeling relieved that the dog is off her hands but I would also probably end up getting arrested.

Day Twenty

Charity

A man came into my line. He bought mostly vegetables, some fruit and a loaf of bread. He held back a bag of cherries until I hit the total key. They were pretty cheap, $1.69 per pound, but the total was more than the customer had. He opened his hands to show me how much money he had. He didn't have enough for all of the cherries. After some math, I figured out that if this man had less than half the cherries he currently had he would be able to walk out with a few cents change. As I was about to empty out half of the bag, the woman that followed him in line dropped a ten dollar bill on my counter.

LADY: Stop. I've got the rest.
ME: Are you sure?
MAN: [with a look of relief and surprise] Oh thank you. Thank you so much.
LADY: My pleasure.

Charity. It wasn't just a few cents this woman gave, but several dollars. The man was so incredibly grateful. I gave him his receipt and he walked away, thanking this woman one more time. I wondered if he had children to feed or if those groceries were his food for a week. Either way, he needed that fruit and was relieved that this woman helped him out. It was a beautiful thing to see.

As I began to check out the charitable woman's groceries, I looked down and noticed a bag that I forgot to give that man, the bag with the cherries. Without saying a word, I grabbed them and bolted out of the store and into the parking lot. This was not the first time this had happened, but of the few times I have forgotten to hand a customer his or her bag, this was worst time. I ran everywhere looking for him, but I never found him. He must have been in a rush. I walked back in with my head down and tears began to fall. How could I screw this up? I hated myself for it.

I gave an apology to the selfless woman, to which she replied, "Don't worry, I know that man. He waits tables at a restaurant down the road. I will take the cherries to his workplace. If he isn't there, I'll show up the next day."

Miracle of miracles. I was so relieved to have not completely ruined this woman's generous gesture.


Granbury

Several customers come in from far away towns. They usually bring in freezer bags to store cold food for their hour-plus drive home.

ME: So, where are you coming from?
LADY: [while stuffing her freezer bag] I'm from Granbury. We don't have any store like this in that town.
ME: An old college friend of mine who came from there. He is currently the principal trombonist of the Zurich Opera House Orchestra.
LADY: Ooh!
ME: Yeah, people like to tell me that no one comes from Granbury but they are wrong.
LADY: You're darn right they are wrong. Chewbacca lives in Granbury.
ME: What?

I immediately imagined a furry giant walking around a rural town.

LADY: The actor who played Chewbacca, Peter Mayhew, lives in Granbury, TX. I see him at the coffee shop sometimes. It's exciting.
ME: Wow. I thought my friend was the biggest thing to come out of Granbury.
LADY: There are lots of people who come from Granbury. I'm a published author. My book is about to be sold on Amazon.
ME: What is your book about?
LADY: It is a book on how to teach children and adults with Dyslexia.

She handed me her card. Her name is Gloria Stringer and her book is called The Dyslexia Tutor. She tells her own story about her own child on her website, about how her method has helped her daughter succeed. I hoped that her books would help many other adults and kids. She may not be Chewbacca, but she does make Granbury look good.

Enabler

An old woman came through my line with hot dogs and buns.

ME: So are you grilling tonight?
LADY: [Annoyed] No, I came here to get these hot dogs for my husband. If he wants hot dogs he should come here and get them himself instead of expecting me to leave the house and them every time.
ME: You know you are enabling his behavior by coming here, right?
LADY: I know, I am but he's been pulling that handicapped card long enough.

Damn.

Handicapped how? Was he disabled as in "no use of his legs" disabled or "no peripheral vision" disabled? I didn't ask. Obviously this woman was fed up of her husband. Was she sick of helping, feeling burdened or was it that her husband was simply ungrateful? Maybe she was selfish or maybe she was mad that this favor was keeping her from a riveting game of canasta. It could be any of these things. For whatever reason, that couple was in an unhealthy situation.

Word of Advice:

A good way to creep me out is by stating my name at the end of every sentence. I mean EVERY sentence. It also doesn't help if you look like Dr.Frankenstein's assistant and smile with your eyes wide open. In fact, if I carry out your entire transaction without looking at your face, you are most likely creeping me out.

Ill Crazy Red-Head Vegan

CRV has been sick lately. Very sick. She constantly has to call in or leave in the middle of work. I asked her what was wrong. My first instinct was that she had an iron or B12 deficiency. She told me she takes plenty of daily vitamins. Her doctor is a homeopathic and holistic physician. CRV ran me through several reasons for why she could be feeling this way. She said she was weak. There were poop issues. Makes sense. Much of the immune system is in the digestive tract.

ME: [in the break room with CRV] Have you thought about getting a colonoscopy?
CRV: I don't think that's it. I don't know if I want to do that.
[OCDaisy walks in, opens the fridge and grabs her lunch bag]
CRV: I just feel sick all of the time.
OCDAISY: You're a vegan, that's why you're sick. [she walks out]
ME: Nobody asked you Daisy. Now go brush your tooth.

Racist Crazy Red-Head Vegan

CRV felt better as the day went along. I was working next to Hero and CRV came over to bag groceries. We all somehow got on the topic of racism with a grocery worker.

CRV: I'm not racist, but I do stereotype. I will admit it. For example, why do foreign people show up ten minutes before closing time?
GROCERY GUY: Right?
ME: Are you serious? I think several different types of people show up late. I think you find that the most memorable of them, to you, are foreigners. You can't make generalizations like that.
CRV: I know. Look, I am not racist. I have a black boyfriend. Everyday I bring him home a watermelon and he'll be sittin' there with fried chicken just having at it, so he is definitely black.

I looked at Hero, Hero looked at me. We both sighed a deep sigh for humanity.

Stereotyping is the "gateway hatred" for racism. You can't say shit like, "My boyfriend's black," "My best friend is Afghani," or "I'm one sixth Mexican," and then proceed to stereotype, generalize about a group of people or insult whole races of humans and then go around wearing t-shirts with Gandhi quotes on them, acting like you're a fucking saint.

This is precisely why the world will never be in peace. Too many assholes. I wanted to slap the shit out of CRV but then I thought about how many people I know who talk exactly like she does. If I slapped her, I would have to slap many others. I just chose to be silent for the time being.

I don't understand racism. What if we all stopped to think about how much we have in common, the most simple and humble trait being the need for food and water to survive. Why can't that be enough to understand we are no different from each other? Frustrating. If stereotyping or racism caused us to go deaf and blind, how many of us would be left with all five of our senses? Sometimes I think the world would be a better place with more deaf and blind people in it.

Update: JV

I told other coworkers about JV losing his shit the other day. They told me to let it go but I couldn't. I really felt the need to figure out what this guy's problem was. I couldn't just chalk it up to his being 20 years young. I know plenty of people that age that can keep composure and not be a jerk. Hmm...

I was on a break, waiting in CRV's line to buy some food. She had made a paper bag puppet earlier and wrote "escuchar" on it. I told her that she needed to conjugate that word and make it a command.

ME: I think it's "escuche" with an accent on the last e.
JV: Escuche? I...think that commands follow the usted form with an accent on the last vowel.
ME: I think you're right. Write escucha. Throw in some exclamation points.

So, JV knows Spanish. Smart guy.

Smart guy...

That's it. JV is smart. He wants someone (or everyone) to acknowledge how smart he is. That's why he shouts out correct codes all of the time. That's why he constantly wants to find my solution before I do. He only started to treat me better once he found out I read Vonnegut. He likes intelligent conversation. Bingo!

Well, who doesn't like intelligent conversation? I understand that I'm not going to get that from everyone I meet here. I would drive myself insane expecting such a thing. I tend to join conversations where they are. That is where JV's youth gets him. He doesn't tolerate conversation that isn't intelligent. He can't seem to stand it when everyone else isn't at his speed. That's too bad. He will do well in his career, whatever that will be, no doubt. The only sad thing is, he is on a fast train to Doucheville. I think I will try to find out more about him. He probably took a million AP classes. I wonder what he wants to do with his life. I'm sure he was a straight A student. From here, I hope I can find the best version of this guy.