Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Day Thirty Four

New Rules

It had been a while since my behavior had inspired new rules to be enforced. As I walked up to my register at the beginning of my shift, Patti stopped me to let me know that there are new rules concerning cell phones at registers. Cell phones used to be allowed in our drawers or in our pockets but lately, employees (meaning me) have been checking texts and browsing the web at the register too much. Patti was so cute, she tried to open the employee manual and show me a highlighted sentence where cell phones are not permitted.

ME: Patti, you really don't have to do that.
PATTI: I was told I had to show everyone that line.
ME: Let's pretend you did.
PATTI: Now they are saying they will give you a written warning if you are caught with your cell phone at a register!
ME: Patti. If they fired me at this point they would be doing me a favor.

Patti laughed and dropped the manual on my register. I'm assuming this rule was enforced by one of the old ladies. Probably O.C.Daisy. Good for her, trying to take this job so seriously. I'll be sure to ruin her efforts.

Old Lady #9

ME: How are you today?
OLD LADY: I'm good as long as it doesn't rain before I get home.
ME: Is it going to rain today?
OLD LADY: My knees say it's going to rain.
ME: Your knees?
OLD LADY: Yes.
ME: It looks sunny outside. Are you sure your knees didn't mean sunny or partly cloudy?
OLD LADY: 100% chance of rain.

It rained that afternoon.

Update: Ryan

Ryan was one of the head cashiers today. He used to be in the army, which is a blessing and a curse. Boot camp and his super disciplined workout regimen gave him one of those fat-less muscle-y bodies that inspires a slack-jawed stare, even in an ugly green t-shirt. The downside to his being in the army is the way he lets everyone out on break. To Ryan, you are on break as soon as he says so. To Ryan, it is your fault if you kill your break time cleaning up your register before you go into the store or the employee's lounge. To Ryan, If you're on a 15 minute break, you start walking back at 13.5 minutes. To Ryan, lunches are 30 minutes and NO LESS. You will be paged if you are a second late.

I like Ryan, I really do. We usually laugh a lot and are pretty chummy but today when he walked over to me mid-sandwich to tell me my break was over, I couldn't help but chew slower, move slower and take a few extra seconds to stretch, slowly. Cashier jobs are hard on the back and even if you make your own lunch or snacks, the breaks never seem long enough. Not all of us have Apollo's belt to help us stand up for eight hours a day. My lunches lately began to seem more and more like 25 minutes and breaks were more like ten, so I made a point of announcing to Ryan what the clock on my phone says before I walk away.

ME: It's 3:40PM and I am going on my break now.
RYAN: It's actually 3:42 and your break started at 3:40.
ME: It's 3:40PM and my body officially went of break as of right now.
RYAN: Two minutes ago.
ME: I'll be back at 3:55, whatever that means to your watch.

When I came back, he said I was a minute late and I told him his watch is fast. Ryan is a hard working, punctual, ultra disciplined 20 year-old in the Army, I get it. I think it's so adorable that he wants to apply these qualities at his job. I'm sure this disciplinary business will get him somewhere someday, but for now I'll be here to patronize him every time he wants to shave a minute off my breaks.

Old Lady and Old Man #10

An elderly couple came into my line. The old man was in a motorized cart.

OLD MAN: Remember me? I was sitting over there watching you eat!
OLD LADY: Stop creeping the girl out.
OLD MAN: I was just waiting for you to finish shopping, she was eating over there where I was waiting. [he looks to me] She takes forever.
OLD LADY: Every time I thought I was done you told me to get something else!
OLD MAN: And you took a long time getting it!
ME: Cut it out kids or I will turn this car around!

They stopped, they laughed and they forgot one more thing, of course.

Credit Debbie

A little girl came into my line with a bunch of candy from the bulk section. After I gave her the total, she handed me a credit card.

ME: Did your mom or dad hand you this credit card to use here?
GIRL: [spoken with snoot] Actually it's MY credit card.


This girl looked no older than eight years old. I couldn't help but think this was a scene from Home Alone. She had a little bit of makeup on and was wearing a black t-shirt with "Lights, Camera, FABULOUS!" written in pink glitter on the front. Interesting. Maybe her parents are letting her play "adult" and putting a little bit of money on a prepaid card. Maybe this kid's parents are well to do and swiping a credit card is the most strenuous activity this girl will have to do until she grows old. Either way, where are this little kid's parents?

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