Day Thirty Seven

Update: No Shit Talking Rule

The "No Shit Talking" rule had been in effect for a little over a week. I was loving it. So were some of my fellow employees. I don't have to talk about other people behind their backs to be entertained at work, but I know that some of the younger employees have a harder time with this rule. The no shit talking rule happened because of serial shit-talking old ladies like O.C.Daisy and Cake Eyes, but young people like Sally Spec and Crazy Red Head Vegan had to work to talk about other things than the grumbling old ladies at work. Banshee (who is, by the way, looking more and more pregnant but apparently is not pregnant) told me that the new rule was drawing fire from angry older cashiers. I responded to Banshee by giving her a high five. The cashiers are going to grow up, damn it.

Rude Judy and the Central Market Boys

An unhappy looking woman came into my line with her sons. They had a ton of Central Market reusable bags that they handed to me to pack what would have been an insanely large amount of groceries. Thankfully, Sweet Nate came along to help me with this one. I began to ring in the food items, when I looked at the unhappy woman.

ME: Cheer up! Life is not THAT bad.

No response. I continued to scan groceries and attempted to talk to her again.

ME: Have any fun plans this weekend?

No response again. Maybe she was having a bad day. No smiling for this lady, not today. Nate began to bag the groceries and the unhappy lady started to order him around, telling him what to put in each bag. She took certain items out of certain bags and Nate had to correct the bag organization. Why didn't she just bag all of this her damn self? Why couldn't she get one of her useless sons to help so she can yell at one of them instead of my guy? She continued to speak condescendingly to Sweet Nate, which began to make me mad. Nate was annoyed but continued to help and be the only thing he knows how to be: nice. I couldn't figure out what her problem was. Some people have a bad day, but they tend to express their frustrations about the day. Some people are tired and don't feel like talking, but they aren't bitches about it. Some people experience loss or tragedy but still need their groceries. I can sense when people are sad, their expressions are morose and gloomy. I couldn't figure this one out. She was bossy, mean, unhappy and obsessive compulsive about what goes in what bag. The only thing I could imagine was that she was a recent divorcee...or soon to be.

After what seemed like an eternity of this bullshit, the transaction was finally over. After she paid, I tried one more time to talk to her.

ME: Here is your receipt. Have a nice day.

She didn't respond, she took the receipt and began walking away. After walking away five feet, I said one last thing.

ME: Next time use the word 'PLEASE'.

Bitch.

Buster and the Mayor of Crazyville

A relatively new grocery bagger, named Buster, seems to like bagging groceries for me. I noticed that he doesn't volunteer to bag for many other cashiers. I think he is dismissed by the others. He is kind of a lazy person and has to be constantly reminded of what to do, probably because he hates his job and doesn't want to do it, but he always seems to jump up to my register first when it gets busy. I do always make sure to include him in the conversation with customers, maybe that's why he is always willing to help me out.

This lady came into my line that was on her cell phone yelling at whoever was on the other side of the conversation. I ignored whatever she was saying and began to ring in her groceries while Buster helped bag. The woman finally got off the phone, dramatically scoffing and sighing.

BUSTER: Ma'am I began bagging in plastic. Is that okay or would you like paper?
WOMAN: [points at Buster] When you get married, you LISTEN to your wife!
ME: Ma'am? This is Buster, not your husband. Don't yell at him.
WOMAN: I just speak sternly. I never yell at people.
ME: You can stop pointing at him too, ma'am.

The crazy woman put her arm down and laughed...and for once, Buster wished he wasn't helping me.

Update: Cute Guy Maybe (Not Really)

My manager gave me an envelope during my shift. It was a birthday card (delivered two weeks late) from the president of the company, the father of Cute Guy. It seemed like forever ago that Cute Guy quit. I wondered how he was doing, how drunk he might be at that very moment, and how uninvolved or unaware his dad was of CG's suffering (Cute Guy's mom died in the past year). I hoped Cute Guy was doing alright, wherever he was.

Lazy Susan

A couple came into my line with a small basket of groceries. It was mostly the guy's groceries. The girl went second and only had a couple of things.

GIRL: I don't want these. [she hands me a bunch of grapes]
GUY: Just put those back yourself, it's right there [he motioned to a place ten feet away]
GIRL: She can put it back. [motioning to me]
GUY: [rolled his eyes, shaking his head]

After the guy's transaction was over I began to ring in the girl's groceries.

GIRL: I got $5.39 in cashews? Is that right?
ME: Yes. They are $8.99 a pound.
GIRL: Put it back. I am not paying five dollars for that.
ME: I can't put it back. Once you take food out of the bulk bins they are either purchased or thrown away. Never put back.
GIRL: I'm not going to get them.
GUY: Wow. [shaking his head]

Wow, indeed. How hard is it to check the price or use the scales available in the bulk section? What a wasteful, lazy person. Now I am throwing away $5 of cashews someone else could have eaten. Even her boyfriend thinks she is an embarrassment.

Scream Train

It was close to the end of the night when I heard it. Screaming. Happy screaming, but screaming nonetheless. The screamer was mobile. I looked toward the back of the store and could not locate the source. It went on for 20 minutes. I had to tend to customers and the screaming continued. Whatever it was, I was sure its head was rotating over its shoulders and an exorcism would have to take place.

Finally the screamer and his enabler came into view with his family to check out groceries in JV's line. An adult man was chasing around what looked like a two year old boy. The boy was adorable, but the screaming was not. The mother noticed all of us glaring and tried to ask the adult man to stop. He continued to make the kid scream and run around. I began to feel my head throbbing in pain. I blamed the mother. This was mostly the fault of the stupid adult male, but if the mother had a spine she could shut that shit down if she wanted to. They finally left when I saw my next customers. Two men and an adorable QUIET little girl. I pulled a quarter out of my pocket and made a quick transaction before helping these men out. I grabbed my container of lollipops and looked to the girl.

ME: For being so good and so quiet, you get to have a lollipop!
DAD: Ooh! What do you say?
GIRL: [in the softest whisper] Thank you!

Update: J.V.

My coworkers were pretty pleasant to be around today. I had some good conversations with JV, CRV and Gaythan toward the end of the night. JV has improved character-wise, but was still slightly arrogant. No customers were around. We were bored and JV began drumming on his counter.

ME: Are you a drummer?
JV: No.
ME: Were you ever a drummer or any kind of musician?
JV: No, but my mom teaches piano.
ME: So you grew up hearing music?
JV: Yup. If piano is the first instrument you play, it makes any other instrument easier to play.
ME: That is true, but only to a point with some students.
JV: Not true.

What the hell do I know?

ME: Can you think of any possible flaws of learning to play piano first?
 JV: There are none.
ME: Yes there are. Think.
JV: [no response]
ME: When you touch a key on a piano, a pitch WILL come out. If a student is impatient and expects sound production to be as easy on a wind instrument or when singing, that can result in problems like too much air pressure, overly tight musculature, use of unnecessary muscles, or hyper-phonation.
JV: [begins to walk away to count down his till with Patti] Percussion doesn't have to worry about that. No lungs!
ME: You are abandoning the original argument!

He disappeared behind the office doors. Eventually he left and Patti walked up to me.

ME: I think he thinks that because his mother is a musician, that he is an authority on the subject as well.  Like it's hereditary.
PATTI: [laughing] After you said the last thing you said and the door shut, [JV] said, "God! She is just like me. She always has to have the last word."

We laughed. It's true. I do always like to have the last word. I'm sure it's irritating. Nobody is 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 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 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 Eighteen

Update: Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really) 

A couple days ago I asked Cute Guy what was bothering him. He looked so bummed out. He told me he hates this job. I asked him why he is doing it. Why doesn't he just switch to another department? He is the son of the president of the company for Christ's sake! Today, he and I worked next to each other. I was bagging groceries for him as his customer kept pulling food out of her grocery cart, more than it seemed the cart could hold.

ME: [to Cute Guy] your customer has a clown cart.
CUTE GUY: [stares at me with confusion] What?
ME: Your customer, her cart is like a clown car. Things keep coming out of it.
CUTE GUY: Oh.

No "Oh yeah, haha," from CG. Hmm. Not too incredibly bright and he hates this job. Yet, I am not sold on the idea that this is a dumb apathetic guy. Behind his vacant expression is a reason for the way he currently is and of course, I want to know what that is. We talked about plans for the night. I planned to hit the Ritz Carlton in Dallas with my girlfriends. He asked me why. "To wear nice dresses, drink martinis and have fun," I replied. I told him I would surely be hungover the next day and I admitted it wouldn't be the first time. In return, CG admitted to me something as well.

CUTE GUY: Yeah, I drank a little too much last night. I blacked out.
ME: Yikes. How are you feeling now?
CUTE GUY: Fine. I'm used to it.

Awesome. I'm either talking to the male Snooki or there is a reason he drinks to a blacked out state regularly. Our drinking stories have bonded us somehow. After I came back from a break, he asked me how it was. He NEVER engages in a conversation. I always do the talking. He must be getting more comfortable with me.

Children of the Corn

Why today? I saw the worst kid fit ever. A mother was putting groceries on the belt, lastly taking a box of fruit chews away from her 2 year old so I could ring it in. Oh my god. From the moment that box left the little girl's fingers she broke into what I could only describe as a screaming seizure. It began silently, arms flailing and torso whipping around while legs kicked in random directions, then came the scream...a dog murdering, multi-pitched, high scream. If the Nazgul from Lord of the Rings had a baby with a velociraptor, it would sound like this girl. I handed back the fruit chews immediately. The little girl went back to zero. It was impressive and irritating all at the same time.

I reached into my register's jar of organic lollipops and pulled out six of them. Then I waited.

Along came a family with three little kids who picked up everything they could grab and placed these things in different locations. The parents let them do it.

Next.

A mom walked up with her six year old son. He began taking food items out of the cart for his mother.

ME: That is so nice! Do you always help your mom like this?
[the boy nodded, the mom smiled]
ME: I love seeing kids help their parents.
MOM: He is a good kid.

After all of the groceries were bagged the mom began to wipe her card. I told the kid that he was going to get a surprise after his mom paid for groceries. I held up all six lollipops and I told the kid to choose whichever one he wanted. He was so happy. He picked the blueberry flavor and said, "Thank you." I thanked him back for being helpful and a well behaved kid.

I only gave out two lollipops during the whole shift.

Update: Crazy Red-Head Vegan

We had a new manager who looked like a young pretty boy. I was taller than him, but he was good looking. I was instantly reminded of what a friend once told me, "Miranda, we are all the same size...in bed." I wasn't into the new manager, but it is always nice to see a good looking face if I have to look at any of the guys here for any reason.

CRV and Sally Spec were diggin' on the new manager hard. They were staring at him up and down. They walked up to my register and told me to check him out with them. I said I can't have a thing for any guy who looks like I babysat him at one point. CRV disagreed.

CRV: Girl, I'm a vegan, but I'd eat that."

Update: Tangly Q

I recognized the girl as soon as I saw her, the cute little toddler who had beautiful spiral curls from one of the first days I had worked at this store. With her was the same mom, but this time her hair didn't look like it was dipped in KY. It was blown out and wavy. Interesting.

ME: [to the little girl] Beautiful hair!
[the mom rolled her eyes]
ME: So how are you doing today ma'am?
[the mom ignores me and swipes her card]
ME: Having a good Friday so far?
[she ignores me again]

I thought about complimenting her hair which I first saw crusted down with gel a few weeks ago, but I chose not to. What an ugly wench. I didn't give a lollipop to this kid and I should have. She was behaving, the only one who didn't deserve a pop was her mother, who I was worried about pissing off. I didn't look at that woman when I handed over the receipt. I smiled at her pretty little daughter instead. I hoped again, that in the future, this little girl would be surrounded by much better people. Otherwise this baby will grow up not realizing how beautiful she really is.

Day Nine

Update: Cute Guy, Maybe

This guy is pretty interesting. He tries to take really long breaks. Instead of clocking out for lunch like everyone else does, he'll take five or six minutes to order a sandwich, clock out, take 30 minutes, clock in and then use the restroom for as long as it takes. His 30 minute lunches stretch out to 40 minutes if he can get away with it. Lately our managers have been busting him, paging him at the end of his lunch or watching him to make sure he clocks out first. He is still non-social and doesn't look at anyone he speaks to, but he gets plenty of attention from the other girls. Once the customer flow died down there would be an average of 3 girls at the end of his register, trying to talk to him. Today it was a girl from vitamins, Crazy Red Head Vegan, Banshee and Sally Spec. Oh man, what I would give to hear what they are saying (really, what Vegan is saying) to see how uncomfortable it makes him.

But I Do Love My Husband

A woman walked up and started to load  groceries on the belt when her husband appeared out of nowhere and placed some chocolate covered pretzels on the belt. The wife said, "What are those?" She knows what they are. She just wants to make her husband feel like a fat lard for wanting to buy some sweets. The husband walks away to turn on the car and this woman sounds off about her husband to me.

WOMAN: Oh my god, we come here for only a few things and he knows what we are here for, but as soon as we walk in he stops everywhere and is like, "Ooh, what is this?" Then we end up being here for an hour. I tell ya, he's good at certain things but can't focus when it comes to a task. [she laughs out of frustration] He's great when it comes to fixing stuff but he not the smartest, you know....signs are not for the illiterate.
ME: Yeah...

Observation:

Teenagers, especially girls, cross their arms a lot. Our air conditioner is broken, so I know they are not cold. Just an observation.


Village Person

Village Person will be "in the Navy" in a couple weeks. He has never told me about it but I would hear him talk about it to other girls. He would never say, "I'm joining the Navy," in a humble and honored way, but in a bragging fashion like,"Yeah, I'm gonna be in the Navy soon." I have never met any guy who has made the decision to join any branch of our military with the expectations that he would graduate from BMT with the body of Van Damme, all of a sudden having the swagger of the Dos Equis guy. He does angled pushups against the registers. It's okay, he will not be this way for long. In a few weeks a drill sergeant is going to make a bitch out of him.

Can't Turn Everyone Around

A seemingly older woman came through my line. I greeted her, she didn't greet me back. She wore sunglasses and had her hair wrapped in a bandana. I tried to ask her how she was doing and she didn't really respond, she kept her head down. She clearly wanted out of the store. I noticed she barely had eyebrows and her hair near the bandana was incredibly thin. Her skin was pale and unhealthy. This woman was battling cancer. I didn't try talking to her after that. This was not someone I was going to make smile in a matter of minutes. I wondered how she was feeling. Sad? Angry at the card she was dealt? Clearly she was in a physical and emotional pain I couldn't imagine.

The "life is short" message carried on a few hours later when a customer told me she was not having a good day. I asked why, I always ask why. She said she just found out a friend of hers found out she had breast cancer. She told me that this woman had two kids. I asked her how old this woman was. The woman was 32.

I am almost 32. That knocked the air out of my lungs. I took a moment to think about that in silence as I rang in groceries. I thought of a few people I know who are currently battling cancer who are my age. It is not uncommon, but it is so unfair. I eventually told this woman that I was sorry that this happened to her friend. I didn't know if she knew, I was sure she would be informed to be this way, but I told her to be really positive, that when someone has cancer it is important for them to have as much light and optimism around as possible. This customer thanked me for the advice and she said she will try her hardest to be that way.

I spent a long time after that thinking of how I take care of myself and how people I know take care of themselves. I pondered about the things that set diseases like this in motion: foods, inactivity, harmful exposure, genes, etc. All I can do is take care of myself and live the best life possible. I spent the rest of my shift ruminating on a truth I once heard a pastor say at a funeral:

"The one and only silver lining to experiencing a tragedy is that it brings all of us back to what is truly important in our lives."

Day Four

Speedy Gonzales

I met Speedy on the first day of work. I noticed she liked to check out groceries very incredibly fast. Good for her. I'm not going to do that shit. She must always be doing something at all times. She prides herself on being "better" (meaning: faster) than everyone else at this job. She wasn't very talkative or minutely sociable so I moved to another cashier. Today, she was in the register behind me. No small talk. Not mean, but not nice either. No fun. She has the pride of Pedantic Joe, but lacks the kindness. She has the one word replies of Copy Cat, but not because she is shy (or socially awkward) but because she doesn't want to talk to you. On a scale of bearable to unbearable people I don't prefer to work near, she leans toward unbearable. I wonder if this is an initial period of "player hatin'" for new employees. I have a feeling Speedy will turn around. Being this negative has to be too tiring for her to keep it up.

Old Man #2

ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: I am fantastic!
ME: Wow, it's so refreshing to see a really happy person.
OLD MAN: Darling, at my age? I'm just thrilled to be alive!

He winked, and smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen. Everyone should be just as thrilled to be alive, everyday.

Cashier Contest

Holy shit. Cashier contest. I love these. The co-op I worked for in Indiana had a cashier contest to raise the money for the Hoosier Hills food bank. I raised the most, something like $1200 by myself and won a gift basket with a gift card to the co-op. The prize, at this current store I work for, is a $50 gift card to the person who has the highest percentage of customers sign up for our mailing list on Friday through Sunday. I went in with guns blazing. I got around 90-95% of my customers to sign up the first day. Upon turning in all of my mailing list slips, my front end manager was ultra impressed.

MANAGER: Holy crap, you got this many customers to sign up?
ME: Yep! I want that gift card. Free wine and beer.
MANAGER: Well keep this up and you'll win that contest next weekend, for sure!
ME: Um...........................................................................it didn't start today?
MANAGER: Next weekend.

I officially don't give a crap about this contest.

Cute Guy, Maybe

I think I read something at some point from a Sociology book about how our attractions toward others are shifted and altered by proximity, exposure and environment. So, maybe I only found this guy attractive because he is the only good looking one working in the store, not because he is Don Draper. It could have also been because he was five registers away and I couldn't see him clearly, a "buen lejos" (good from far away), as a friend used to call guys who are cuter from the other side of the room. I decided to say hi, with the intent to maybe flirt if I discovered he wasn't a weirdo. As I greeted him, he began to check out a customer's groceries and I helped bag. After the customer left I asked about how busy the store had been so far and how new was he to the job. He replied, animatedly, but with his back facing me. Was he actually responding to me or was he having a conversation with an invisible person? Should I leave them alone? Hmm. I later found out he is the son or grandson of the president of the company. He doesn't really converse with anyone, I learned. The dichotomy among the cashiers, as far as how kind people are, was becoming more clear with each new person I met. It is disappointing to find that there are people who are not cool or fun to be around. Thankfully, there are more pleasant people than there are unpleasant.

Freckles

ME: [to a young girl standing in line waiting for her parents to load groceries on the belt, I smiled] Hi there! I think you have the cutest freckles!
LITTLE GIRL: [instantly frowns, followed by a dirty look]
MY INNER MONOLOGUE: Ummm, shit. Say something else!!!!
ME: Are you enjoying your vacation?
LITTLE GIRL: [smiles (thank goodness)] Yes!
ME: What grade are you in?
LITTLE GIRL: Goin' into second gwade.
ME: Cool! What is your favorite subject?
LITTLE GIRL: Eatin'!

Then we laughed. Whew...

I have never understood how anyone could not like their freckles. I think they are unique and beautiful and super adorable on kids. Later in the day another customer came in whose daughter was as freckled as the last kid. I made the same compliment. The little girl thanked me. So did the mom, as she had the same freckles her daughter had. I told her about the previously mentioned kid and the mom responded with an "Aww..." I found out that when the daughter asked her mom about her freckles, the mom told her they are the stars in the sky that have fallen to rest on her shoulders. That is a sweet mom.


Update: Cake Eyes

I was yet to look Cake Eyes in the shadow. She still had not said hello or smiled at me, but I haven't exactly made any efforts to be nice to her. She smiles at others and many of the customers love her, so I knew there is a cool lady in there somewhere. Surely she couldn't strongly dislike me for showing up late once. I went to pick up baskets and put them away and when I crossed paths with Cake Eyes I smiled and said hi. She smiled too and responded with a hello! Wow, a little bit of tension released.

Doin' Good in Texas

"How are you doing?" is the first question I ask all of my customers, but rather than responding with, "I'm doing well," or "I'm alright," the majority of people here respond with, "Doin' good." Often it is said twice, "Doin' good. Doin' good." You may laugh, but sometimes the longer you hear a certain colloquial phrase, no matter how poor the grammar, you begin to speak that way as well. I found myself answering the same question from my customers with a "Doin' good." At first I wanted to slap myself in the face immediately after I say it, but I have gotten over it. When in Rome...