Day Fourteen

I have been working the last 7 out of 8 days and I am drained. I anticipated many mistakes being made and I lacked the energy to pretend to be friendly. I needed some really friendly and positive (or at least interesting) customers to wake me up.

Rancid Nancy

Rancid Nancy could be any woman who chose to wear as much musky perfume as this woman chose to. I refused to inhale and I had nowhere to turn without looking incredibly rude. I turned to look at the groceries Nancy was purchasing and I saw a fresh basil plant. HALLELUJAH! I grabbed the plant and dug my nose into the leaves to take the largest breath I could.

ME: Mm...I love the smell of fresh basil.
NANCY: I know! Isn't it the best?

It certainly was at the moment. I took in one more breath then I stationed the plant as close to my face as possible so I could breathe when I needed to. I held my breath in most of the time. This lady was sweet and super nice but HOLY HELL she wore too much perfume, so much that it reminded me of my time at the Indiana co-op in the hottest part of the summer. Farmers would come in during the day to drop off produce, probably right after they picked the crop and swept the cow dung out of the shed. They smelled like butt sweat. I couldn't breath and I dealt with it because these local farmers were doing saintly work. The difference is, this lady did not have to wear that perfume, or that much of it for that matter. I guessed that she didn't have any good friends in her life that are honest with her about things like scent. I have a handful of friends whose sole purpose in my life is to keep me from making dreadful social mistakes like cutting bangs, wearing t-shirts in public and dating closeted gay guys. Those are your real friends.

Old Lady #3

An old lady walks up fully clad in electric blue workout gear and a sun visor.


ME: Are you about to work out?
OLD LADY: Oh no, I just finished.
ME: Bench pressing 150?
OLD LADY: [cute old lady laugh] No way! I just finished playing a game of pickleball.
ME: What is pickleball?
OLD LADY: It's like badminton and table tennis thrown together in a pot and you play it with a wiffle ball.
ME: Huh.
OLD LADY: [points her finger at me] It's no whimpy game!

I went home and searched "pickleball" on Google. By George, it IS a real sport and it has an association. A sport is not a sport without an association, apparently. That old lady was saucy. I bet when she's on the court she throws down and makes a face like this when she scores a point:

Doogie Howser

This one little boy helped his mom put groceries on the belt. I love seeing kids help their moms.


ME: Are you enjoying your summer vacation?
BOY: Yes.
ME: Do you miss your teachers?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you ready to go back to school?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you serious? Kids never say that! What grade are you going to be in?
BOY: 3rd grade. If there was NO vacation, then I would be in a higher grade sooner. [he makes an exaggerated forwarding gesture]
ME: Then you would be in college in around 6 years?
BOY: Yes.

I laughed. Then I turned to him mom.

ME: You never have to tell him to do his homework, huh?
MOM: Nope. He is super smart. We never have to tell him to study because he wants to do it.
ME: Wow. [to the boy] What is your favorite subject?
BOY: Science. I like gravity.

I told the boy's mom she should take her son to the space center in Houston because there is a room that has zero gravity. I hope this kid gets to go. He would enjoy that so much.

Random Thought:

The songs, "My Boyfriend's Back" and "It's My Party," need to be removed from the grocery store musical canon. The out of tune scream singing makes me very angry and when I am tired "angry" has the potential to turn into "homicidal." If it weren't for the Rolling Stones' following rock song I'm sure I would have killed someone.

Update: Ghost Protocol

He returned to buy more groceries! Is this guy a regular? Ghost Protocol makes me feel like a gushing teenager moron. He is just so nice to look at. He chose to go through the shortest line (not my line at the time). "Damn," I thought. I need to find a flaw in this guy so I can stop senselessly crushing on him like an idiot every time he walks in.

Update: Elvira

I overheard a conversation between Elvira and another female coworker.


ELVIRA: You don't look like a dead person today.
FEM. CO-WORKER: I wanted to make sure you saw.
ELVIRA: Yes, it looks good.
ME: [to co-worker] What? Dead person?
FEM. CO-WORKER: Elvira told me that I look like a dead person when I don't wear makeup. I don't usually wear makeup here because it takes up too much time and I don't care, so Elvira tells me I look dead. She is fucking hilarious.

This, believe it or not, is Elvira being cool. Later in the day I would go over to help her bag groceries. She actually let me help her a little today!! Miracle of MIRACLES!!! Toward the end of her shift she walked over to me for the first time to talk to me. She asked me if I knew how to cook tofu. I told her I never tried but I took a stab at how one might cook it. I told her there are probably a bunch of recipes online, but she kept telling me that she wasn't interested in an online recipe. She wanted ME to buy tofu and cook it myself and then tell her how to cook it. She heard me once tell a customer how to make a vegetable curry. I think maybe Elvira sees me as some kind of cooking genius. I'll take it. I'm going to learn how to cook tofu.