Update: The Infamous Patti
I came to work with a container full of organic cherry tomatoes from my garden. I brought them for Patti because I told her I would bring her some before my last day. I found out that she went to the hospital last night because there was something wrong with her pancreas. She would be released from the hospital today but would have to stay home for a few days. I was glad Patti was okay but I was a little sad that I didn't get to give her a proper goodbye.
Update: Cake Eyes & Klepto Sue
Cake Eyes worked in the register next to me for the first two hours of my shift. She didn't say a word to me the entire time. I didn't care. I was happy to see her replaced by Klepto Sue. Sue is more fun to talk to. I asked Sue if she would like to try the cherry tomatoes that I brought. She scooped up half the harvest into her hands and put them in her lunch bag.
SUE: Thank you!
This was my fault. I should have said, "Would you like to try ONE?" That last time I was this unclear, three trick-or-treaters took out 2/3 of the candy bowl on Halloween.
I noticed that Sue has become comfortable with some of the female cashiers. We could tell because she has begun to bump hips with all of us. Also, for whatever reason, she was slapping everyone on the butt today. I guess some people do it as a sign of comradery or affirmation like in the NBA, but I didn't care for it. I stood sideways so that I could keep Sue in my peripheral and avoid any hand-to-butt contact.
Brat
A man walked up followed by his daughter who had her hands cupped together. He turned around and looked at his daughter, puzzled.
MAN: What's that in your hand?
GIRL: Daddy, it's just a little bit.
MAN: We are not getting that.
GIRL: Yes we are. [she walked in front of her dad and placed a little bag of chocolate covered nuts on the belt]
MAN: [In an angry whisper] You pick those up right now and put them back!
I thought I saw fire come out of his eyes. This was a teaching moment that I didn't want to interrupt. The little girl pushed her father aside, grunted, and stomped back to the bulk section. Thankfully she didn't actually empty the chocolate back into the bin, she just placed the bag nearby. She walked over to the door and stood fuming with crossed arms. The dad apologized to me. I thought nothing of it. I have seen some parents publicly spank their kids into submission. It seemed that he would correct the situation at home instead of in a public place. Smart man.
Update: Elvira
I was walking back from taking a break when I found out I would be working next to Elvira. I took my till to my register.
ME: Hello!
ELVIRA: Ugh, you? You give me a headache.
ME: Likewise.
ELVIRA: You talk too much.
At first I thought she was joking. Then it didn't seem so. There was only one thing to do...be annoyingly talkative with other people around Elvira at a higher than normal volume level.
Ew...
A mom and her young daughter walked up to my line. This girl looked like Punky Brewster, freckles, pigtails and colorful clothes. The girl fixed her eyes upon the organic lollipop container.
GIRL: Mom! Can I have one of these! It says they're free!
ME & MOM: No they're not. [in unison]
GIRL: It says something free!
I laughed.
ME: It says that the lollipops are gluten-free.
GIRL: [her eyes widened] Gluten?! Ew...
MOM: Honey, gluten is in everything you eat.
The misinformed girl's face turned disgusted and mistrusting. "Gluten" does sound like it could be something gross. I offered her a free lollipop for the laugh.
GIRL: I'll pass. [she dramatically waved her hand in rejection]
Update: Banshee
Banshee stood at the end of my register to help bag groceries.
BANSHEE: Hey there.
ME: Hey. How are you?
BANSHEE: You know, I feel better today than I have in a while.
She told me all about what happened. She did have an IUD. Somehow she got pregnant and with what was essentially half of a baby. She recounted the graphic details of what happened. Doctors couldn't figure out what happened. It was a painful ordeal to bring her back to health and she was still stumped as to what happened. We didn't talk about it long.
I noticed her tattoo on her arm. It was the insignia from Star Trek.
ME: Are you a Trekkie?
BANSHEE: Very much so.
She told me about how she met Patrick Stewart at Comic Con and how she burst into tears at the sight of him. She grew up watching Star Trek with her dad. It was how they connected. When she watches the show she thinks of her father.
We eventually talked about what she missed while she was gone. I told her that her "No Shit Talking Rule" had done a bunk since O.C.Daisy was likely to get away with talking shit about me.
BANSHEE: Oh, so that's why she got a write-up.
ME: What?
BANSHEE: Daisy got a write-up.
ME: No fucking way. The system works?
BANSHEE: Yup, and head cashiers only get a first and final warning. Then after that you're fired.
Wow.
I couldn't believe that anything I said made any difference at all. I was really proud of my managers for hearing me out.
There goes my peace with Daisy.
Showing posts with label Infamous Patti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infamous Patti. Show all posts
Friday, January 25, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Day Forty Six
Update: O.C.Daisy
I had a 12PM-8PM shift. It's an interesting shift to work because you are with all of the people who worked the early morning shifts. They are exhausted and they are counting the hours until they leave. The rest of your shift involves the exit of the tired morning people and the entrance of the well rested people who have afternoon shifts.
Today's A.M. crew included Mad Kathy, Cake Eyes, Klepto Sue and Elvira. Cake Eyes was the first person to go home. She went home with her usual giant bottles of chardonnay. Klepto Sue came to help bag groceries at the end of my register whenever it was slow. She is always good for conversation. Mad Kathy was tired and didn't talk a whole ton. I ignored Elvira, as I planned to for the rest of my time at the store. Being nice to her, like being nice to O.C.Daisy, was a waste of energy.
O.C.Daisy was the head cashier taking over for Banshee. Apparently Banshee had been gone for a few days and head cashiers have been taking over for her. She did look more pale than usual the last time I saw her. I hoped she was okay. O.C.Daisy walked up to the end of my register to help bag groceries.
DAISY: How are you doing?
I didn't respond. I was done hoping that Daisy would reveal a nicer version of herself. Mad Kathy asked me how I was doing. I told her I found out that my battery had died. Daisy was listening to our conversation.
DAISY: Awwww!
ME: [verbally snapped] Don't act like you're concerned.
DAISY: What?
I hated myself for being mean. I have nothing to gain from being so pissed off at OCD. Being angry never hurts the the one you're angry at as much as it hurts you. Who said that? The Dalai Lama? Damn you and all your truth, Dalai. I needed to get this off my chest so I went straight to Grumpy Gill's office.
ME: Gill, I'm sure you're busy, but if you have a moment today may we talk?
GILL: We can talk now, come on in.
I was nervous. What does the shitty, late-all-of-the-time employee say to convince the general manager that a head cashier needs correcting?
ME: Before I say anything I would like to say that I am aware that I am not always the best employee. I am am totally aware of that. I am also aware that I am leaving and that nothing I say is going to really matter but I feel that I need to say something.
GILL: I actually think you're a great employee.
ME: Really? (Seriously, what?)
GILL: Yeah! I have seen you interact with your customers. You are great with them. I couldn't ask for more.
ME: I'm not a model cashier.
GILL: Sure, there are things to work on, but you know. What did you want to say?
I had to stop being shocked at his assessment of me so I could tell him why I was there. I told him about how Daisy talked about me behind my back to Gaythan. He said Emmy had let him know what happened (Yes. Good job Emmy.) He told me that the managers would address the problem. It wasn't about me anymore. I didn't want any of my coworkers to hate this job because they had a mean, two-faced head cashier, talking shit about people to their friends and making the working environment unpleasant. I didn't mention how fake she seems, how bad her hair looks or how toothless people have no business insulting others. I thanked Gill for listening to me. I told him how much I appreciated working at this store all summer.
GILL: I knew you had to go. You are highly over-qualified for this job, we get that. We were glad to have you.
ME: It isn't about qualifications. This is a great job for people who have the capacity to enjoy it. I'm glad I got to work for a team of managers that like the company they work for. It made this job more fun to do.
GILL: Thank you.
ME: I loved the customers. I love people. I like to write a lot and I wrote a lot of my customer interactions down in prose.
GILL: Really? I would love to read that.
ME: Sure! I will send you some excerpts.
I really will send him a few excerpts. I think I will be leaving out the ones where he is called Grumpy Gill, and anything about the stingwich. I think I will just send him entries about the kids and the old people.
I had a 12PM-8PM shift. It's an interesting shift to work because you are with all of the people who worked the early morning shifts. They are exhausted and they are counting the hours until they leave. The rest of your shift involves the exit of the tired morning people and the entrance of the well rested people who have afternoon shifts.
Today's A.M. crew included Mad Kathy, Cake Eyes, Klepto Sue and Elvira. Cake Eyes was the first person to go home. She went home with her usual giant bottles of chardonnay. Klepto Sue came to help bag groceries at the end of my register whenever it was slow. She is always good for conversation. Mad Kathy was tired and didn't talk a whole ton. I ignored Elvira, as I planned to for the rest of my time at the store. Being nice to her, like being nice to O.C.Daisy, was a waste of energy.
O.C.Daisy was the head cashier taking over for Banshee. Apparently Banshee had been gone for a few days and head cashiers have been taking over for her. She did look more pale than usual the last time I saw her. I hoped she was okay. O.C.Daisy walked up to the end of my register to help bag groceries.
DAISY: How are you doing?
I didn't respond. I was done hoping that Daisy would reveal a nicer version of herself. Mad Kathy asked me how I was doing. I told her I found out that my battery had died. Daisy was listening to our conversation.
DAISY: Awwww!
ME: [verbally snapped] Don't act like you're concerned.
DAISY: What?
I hated myself for being mean. I have nothing to gain from being so pissed off at OCD. Being angry never hurts the the one you're angry at as much as it hurts you. Who said that? The Dalai Lama? Damn you and all your truth, Dalai. I needed to get this off my chest so I went straight to Grumpy Gill's office.
ME: Gill, I'm sure you're busy, but if you have a moment today may we talk?
GILL: We can talk now, come on in.
I was nervous. What does the shitty, late-all-of-the-time employee say to convince the general manager that a head cashier needs correcting?
ME: Before I say anything I would like to say that I am aware that I am not always the best employee. I am am totally aware of that. I am also aware that I am leaving and that nothing I say is going to really matter but I feel that I need to say something.
GILL: I actually think you're a great employee.
ME: Really? (Seriously, what?)
GILL: Yeah! I have seen you interact with your customers. You are great with them. I couldn't ask for more.
ME: I'm not a model cashier.
GILL: Sure, there are things to work on, but you know. What did you want to say?
I had to stop being shocked at his assessment of me so I could tell him why I was there. I told him about how Daisy talked about me behind my back to Gaythan. He said Emmy had let him know what happened (Yes. Good job Emmy.) He told me that the managers would address the problem. It wasn't about me anymore. I didn't want any of my coworkers to hate this job because they had a mean, two-faced head cashier, talking shit about people to their friends and making the working environment unpleasant. I didn't mention how fake she seems, how bad her hair looks or how toothless people have no business insulting others. I thanked Gill for listening to me. I told him how much I appreciated working at this store all summer.
GILL: I knew you had to go. You are highly over-qualified for this job, we get that. We were glad to have you.
ME: It isn't about qualifications. This is a great job for people who have the capacity to enjoy it. I'm glad I got to work for a team of managers that like the company they work for. It made this job more fun to do.
GILL: Thank you.
ME: I loved the customers. I love people. I like to write a lot and I wrote a lot of my customer interactions down in prose.
GILL: Really? I would love to read that.
ME: Sure! I will send you some excerpts.
I really will send him a few excerpts. I think I will be leaving out the ones where he is called Grumpy Gill, and anything about the stingwich. I think I will just send him entries about the kids and the old people.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Day Forty Two
I came to work early before my 8am shift. I was tired, again. Last night I split a bottle of wine with a friend whose ex-boyfriend cheated on her a few months ago. Breakups are hard and there is a process that follows the demise of most long term relationships. This wasn't the hang where you get your friend drunk so they don't have to feel anything, it was a follow up. You don't leave until your friend is done talking and you have cussed enough about her ex to increase her morale. That's what friends are for, even if it means sleep deprivation.
I told my first customer to "have a nice day" without asking him to pay for his groceries. He laughed as he took out his credit card. Awesome. I wasn't looking forward to another day like this.
Withdrawal: Stingwich
I had made several stingwiches up to this point. All good looking sandwiches of varying type and packaging. None of them had been eaten. I decided to ask around to see if anyone's lunch had been stolen lately. I talked to Elvira, Vitamin Girl and Pedantic Joe* (who left cashiering for working in grocery) and it seemed that no thefts had been made lately. I also found out that a lot of people have started locking up their lunch bags in the lockers. Did a rumor of a sandwich laced with Ex-Lax scare the selfish lunch thief from stealing food from the fridge? I shouldn't have told Crazy Red Head Vegan about the stingwich, but then again, if the thefts have stopped because of her warning then I should consider this mission a half success. I don't have to have the satisfaction of knowing that someone has downed 2-3 doses of Ex-Lax because he stole a sandwich that wasn't his and who knows, maybe this is somewhat illegal. What if the thief had an allergic reaction to the drug? Then I would be in deep shit. No pun intended.
*traitor
Old Lady #13
An old lady in a purple muumuu with a bandana over her head came into my line with a lot of groceries. After checking her out I asked her if she would like help going out to her car. She said, "Yes." Sweet Nate came along to push her cart but when he got close to it she wouldn't let him push. She just let him walk her to her car while she pushed her cart. It was a funny thing to see. Nate told me that she let him help put the groceries in the trunk but she was putting in groceries too. She let him put the grocery cart back but only because he offered. I wondered if she had issues with getting older and didn't want anyone to think she needed help. Maybe she was a feminist, letting men help when she says so! I envisioned the woman on the retro "Yes We Can" poster, except elderly and in a purple muumuu.
Old Lady #14
Another old lady came into my line with a ton of groceries as well. This woman let people help her. I shared the story of the woman with the purple muumuu with this lady.
OLD LADY: One of the perks of getting old is retiring and having people do things for you!
ME: Right? I kind of want to be old right now.
OLD LADY: No you don't. The thing that stinks about getting old is that your looks go away.
ME: I would think that depends on who's looking.
OLD LADY: I used to get complimented on my full lips. Not so much anymore.
ME: Well I think you're pretty!
OLD LADY: Aw! Thank you dear.
She smiled and walked away with Nate pushing her cart. She needed to hear that. I thought about how I might age. Would I think that I'm unattractive just because I'm not young anymore? Nope. I plan to be aware of what beauty is at every age.
Stynk Eye
The Infamous Patti came into work with what looked like pink eye. She assured us that it was a stye. Still, it was hard to look at Patti's face. I urged her to go get an eye patch so that she doesn't frighten customers into thinking they are going to take pink eye home with their groceries. Roz had Patti do a lot of office work because of the stye, increasing head cashier duties for O.C.Daisy. Daisy was still in training mode and made mistakes so she was too humble pie to do the things that irritate me.
Update: Miranda and the Gang
Miranda and her sisters came through my line today. It was Miranda's birthday! I bought lollipops for the girls as usual and I gave Miranda a second one for her special day. I let them know that I was only going to be there for two more weeks. When I told grandmother that I was a musician she told me that she went to the Eastman School of Music for voice when she was young. Awesome! She wished me luck with my career and they left to celebrate with cake and ice cream. People like Miranda and her family are what I will miss the most about working in this place.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Day Forty One
Old Man #12
Have you ever been so tired that you cannot and should not operate machinery? That was me today. After I endangered a dozen or so lives while driving to work I attempted to handle a cash register. I screwed up A LOT. I had charged people twice for items, I entered the wrong PLU codes and I would somehow charge people for 25 of an item when they only bought 2.
In came an old man with a cap on that read "Old dude with achy breaky parts."
ME: Billy Ray Cyrus? [pointing to the old man's cap]
OLD MAN: Who?
I laughed. I kept entering the wrong PLU codes and the old man kept questioning the screen.
OLD MAN: Is that asparagus?
ME: [holding celery] I'm so sorry. I'm so tired my fingers keep hitting the wrong buttons.
This happened so many times that I had to get head cashier Patti to scan her card to allow for all the voids. She stuck around to help me bag groceries because I was going so slow. I felt so bad. This transaction took much longer than it should have.
ME: I am SO sorry sir. [I finally handed him his receipt] I'm sorry for any pain I may have caused you during this transaction.
OLD MAN: You have a wonderful smile. You could never cause me any pain.
PATTI: Woo! It's gettin' deep in here. I'm gonna need my boots!
The Cashier Exodus
Sally Spec walked up to me with a frown on her face.
SALLY: It looks like we are definitely going to have to keep our hair up from now on.
ME: What?
It was what I feared. She explained to me how Ryan was no longer going to be a head cashier so that he can transfer to grocery, cut his hours and attend school. O.C.Daisy was going to be the new head cashier. I tried to imagine what this new environment would be like. Tied up hair, tucked in shirts and being called "darlin" by someone who hates me. I didn't take another breath before I had resolved to submit my two week notice.
I took out a blank sheet of paper and did the very thing I criticized Heartless Lucy for doing, hand writing my letter. It was the gesture of immediately handing in a resignation at the news of Daisy's promotion that I was after. I had originally planned to stay as a cashier to the end of August.
I explained in the letter that I was offered two new jobs, one as an adjunct professor of trumpet at a state university, the other as an assistant director of music for a church. I mentioned how much I appreciated them taking me in as a cashier and how it meant more to me than simply having a job to transition me from my doctoral coursework to professional employment. Having the opportunity to interact with customers and coworkers is what I enjoyed most. I also enjoyed the exercise of writing about these interactions but I didn't admit to that in the resignation. I actually felt a slight tug in my heart strings when I handed the letter to Emmy.
EMMY: [looking at the letter, she gasped] I know what this means! You are going to start that bucket list! I do NOT want that to happen!
Oh yeah, the bucket list. I made a list in my mind of things I would do in my last days of employment. I would sometimes share this list with Emmy for a laugh.
1. Tell customers to put back items where they found them and that I would wait until they come back. This store isn't that big.
2. Rude people do not receive direct eye contact, but a look just past them to the left or the right of their faces.
3. Whenever I witnessed a parent being awful to their kid, I would complain of having a huge headache all of a sudden and that I would return after getting some aspirin.
...just to name a few. Every time something messed up happened in the store, I would add my dream reaction to the bucket list, vowing to react that way at the appropriate time. I assured Emmy that these things wouldn't happen...maybe. She reminded me that we still needed to play "Johnny Be Good" on the trumpet sometime. That would will probably never happen, but I always reply, "Yeah!"
The Best Kid, Ever
Two parents and their son came through my line today with a ton of groceries. We made the usual pleasant conversation as I rang in items. The little boy helped his mom get items out of the cart to place them on the belt. Once he finished helping he walked forward until something caught his eye: the container of organic lollipops. He stared at them for a long time. He didn't touch the container. He didn't say, "Mom, look! Can I have one?" It was obvious that he had been trained by his parents to never beg. The staring went on for several minutes and his jaw slackened as he inspected around the sides, checking out each and every flavor. It was hard to watch without laughing out loud. How was he not drooling? He moved aside so that his mom could swipe her card. I grabbed the container and pulled out all of the flavors. Instead of going to the kid though, I looked at the mom first.
ME: Your kid is one of the best behaved kids I have ever seen.
MOM: Thank you!
ME: I would like to offer him a lollipop, is that okay?
MOM: Yes!
I thought I had already seen this kid's eyes open as wide as they could. I was wrong. He looked at the lollipops as though this flavor decision would be life altering. He chose watermelon. He said thank you without the parents prompting him to say so. Amazing parents. Amazing kid.
Carbs
The latte I drank before work had worn off and I became more tired than when my shift started. Lines were getting long when a group of skinny pre-teen girls came into my line. They only had a couple of snacks. One of the girls was checking nutritional information on the back of a pack of candy before she was going to let me scan it. She made a comment about how many carbs were in her food item. The other girl made a disapproving moan. She told me she was going to replace the item with something else really quick and that she would be back. I watched them both hurry off as I turned around to face Sally Spec.
ME: That fatless fetus is checking carbs. WHY AMERICA?!
I wasn't aware of how far my booming man voice had carried. There was an echo. Customers in my line and Sally's line stared at me. Some laughed. I didn't mean to say it that loudly. The girls came back and just bought flavored water. They put away all of their foods. I didn't know what to say. On one hand I was happy that they put the food away themselves. On the other hand, I wish those girls knew that they weren't going to gain a pound from the snacks they were going to buy. In addition to the small pack of candy they were going to buy a small pack of fruit snacks and a small four pack of Lucy's gluten free, dairy free cookies. As one who is experienced in being previously fat (to clarify, a person who has (several times) come down from having too large a body mass index for her height and gender through exercise and good diet), I can say that without a doubt they would have been fine. They hardly looked like they were being fed in the first place. I shook my head and moved on to the next customer.
Have you ever been so tired that you cannot and should not operate machinery? That was me today. After I endangered a dozen or so lives while driving to work I attempted to handle a cash register. I screwed up A LOT. I had charged people twice for items, I entered the wrong PLU codes and I would somehow charge people for 25 of an item when they only bought 2.
In came an old man with a cap on that read "Old dude with achy breaky parts."
ME: Billy Ray Cyrus? [pointing to the old man's cap]
OLD MAN: Who?
I laughed. I kept entering the wrong PLU codes and the old man kept questioning the screen.
OLD MAN: Is that asparagus?
ME: [holding celery] I'm so sorry. I'm so tired my fingers keep hitting the wrong buttons.
This happened so many times that I had to get head cashier Patti to scan her card to allow for all the voids. She stuck around to help me bag groceries because I was going so slow. I felt so bad. This transaction took much longer than it should have.
ME: I am SO sorry sir. [I finally handed him his receipt] I'm sorry for any pain I may have caused you during this transaction.
OLD MAN: You have a wonderful smile. You could never cause me any pain.
PATTI: Woo! It's gettin' deep in here. I'm gonna need my boots!
The Cashier Exodus
Sally Spec walked up to me with a frown on her face.
SALLY: It looks like we are definitely going to have to keep our hair up from now on.
ME: What?
It was what I feared. She explained to me how Ryan was no longer going to be a head cashier so that he can transfer to grocery, cut his hours and attend school. O.C.Daisy was going to be the new head cashier. I tried to imagine what this new environment would be like. Tied up hair, tucked in shirts and being called "darlin" by someone who hates me. I didn't take another breath before I had resolved to submit my two week notice.
I took out a blank sheet of paper and did the very thing I criticized Heartless Lucy for doing, hand writing my letter. It was the gesture of immediately handing in a resignation at the news of Daisy's promotion that I was after. I had originally planned to stay as a cashier to the end of August.
I explained in the letter that I was offered two new jobs, one as an adjunct professor of trumpet at a state university, the other as an assistant director of music for a church. I mentioned how much I appreciated them taking me in as a cashier and how it meant more to me than simply having a job to transition me from my doctoral coursework to professional employment. Having the opportunity to interact with customers and coworkers is what I enjoyed most. I also enjoyed the exercise of writing about these interactions but I didn't admit to that in the resignation. I actually felt a slight tug in my heart strings when I handed the letter to Emmy.
EMMY: [looking at the letter, she gasped] I know what this means! You are going to start that bucket list! I do NOT want that to happen!
Oh yeah, the bucket list. I made a list in my mind of things I would do in my last days of employment. I would sometimes share this list with Emmy for a laugh.
1. Tell customers to put back items where they found them and that I would wait until they come back. This store isn't that big.
2. Rude people do not receive direct eye contact, but a look just past them to the left or the right of their faces.
3. Whenever I witnessed a parent being awful to their kid, I would complain of having a huge headache all of a sudden and that I would return after getting some aspirin.
...just to name a few. Every time something messed up happened in the store, I would add my dream reaction to the bucket list, vowing to react that way at the appropriate time. I assured Emmy that these things wouldn't happen...maybe. She reminded me that we still needed to play "Johnny Be Good" on the trumpet sometime. That would will probably never happen, but I always reply, "Yeah!"
The Best Kid, Ever
Two parents and their son came through my line today with a ton of groceries. We made the usual pleasant conversation as I rang in items. The little boy helped his mom get items out of the cart to place them on the belt. Once he finished helping he walked forward until something caught his eye: the container of organic lollipops. He stared at them for a long time. He didn't touch the container. He didn't say, "Mom, look! Can I have one?" It was obvious that he had been trained by his parents to never beg. The staring went on for several minutes and his jaw slackened as he inspected around the sides, checking out each and every flavor. It was hard to watch without laughing out loud. How was he not drooling? He moved aside so that his mom could swipe her card. I grabbed the container and pulled out all of the flavors. Instead of going to the kid though, I looked at the mom first.
ME: Your kid is one of the best behaved kids I have ever seen.
MOM: Thank you!
ME: I would like to offer him a lollipop, is that okay?
MOM: Yes!
I thought I had already seen this kid's eyes open as wide as they could. I was wrong. He looked at the lollipops as though this flavor decision would be life altering. He chose watermelon. He said thank you without the parents prompting him to say so. Amazing parents. Amazing kid.
Carbs
The latte I drank before work had worn off and I became more tired than when my shift started. Lines were getting long when a group of skinny pre-teen girls came into my line. They only had a couple of snacks. One of the girls was checking nutritional information on the back of a pack of candy before she was going to let me scan it. She made a comment about how many carbs were in her food item. The other girl made a disapproving moan. She told me she was going to replace the item with something else really quick and that she would be back. I watched them both hurry off as I turned around to face Sally Spec.
ME: That fatless fetus is checking carbs. WHY AMERICA?!
I wasn't aware of how far my booming man voice had carried. There was an echo. Customers in my line and Sally's line stared at me. Some laughed. I didn't mean to say it that loudly. The girls came back and just bought flavored water. They put away all of their foods. I didn't know what to say. On one hand I was happy that they put the food away themselves. On the other hand, I wish those girls knew that they weren't going to gain a pound from the snacks they were going to buy. In addition to the small pack of candy they were going to buy a small pack of fruit snacks and a small four pack of Lucy's gluten free, dairy free cookies. As one who is experienced in being previously fat (to clarify, a person who has (several times) come down from having too large a body mass index for her height and gender through exercise and good diet), I can say that without a doubt they would have been fine. They hardly looked like they were being fed in the first place. I shook my head and moved on to the next customer.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Day Thirty Nine
Update: Elvira
I was tremendously drowsy from taking a large dose of Benadryl last night. I didn't have time to make coffee or stop by Starbucks for a latte, so I settled for coffee samples at work. I was looking half dead, waiting for the breakfast blend to kick in when Elvira walked by my register. She stopped in front of me and gave me a funny look.
ELVIRA: Let me take a picture.
She pulled an imaginary camera out of her pocket and held it up to her face to capture the memory of my looking awful. I played along as if it were a zombie photoshoot.
ELVIRA: Smile!
I slackened my jaw.
ELVIRA: Beautiful.
Elvira being sarcastic? That's new. She has been super pleasant to be around lately. I think I am finally on her good side. Maybe she will let me help bag her groceries now.
Egypt
A beautiful (probably eternally youthful) woman with olive skin came into my line. We did the usualy greet and chat about the day. At one point she looked at my name tag.
WOMAN: Miranda. That is the name of one of my cousins in Egypt who I have not seen in 25 years.
ME: You must miss her.
WOMAN: I do.
ME: Well aren't things better in Egypt now? Maybe you can see her!
WOMAN: I wouldn't travel there now. The post-revolution in Egypt is messy.
We talked more about her family in Egypt. I shared my stories about traveling to India to see my family.
ME: Indians are a beautiful people but there are things that still need fixing in that country. Like bride burning.
WOMAN: Tell me about it. In my country if a man's shirt was burned with an iron, someone would die because of it. I thought, 'What is this stupidity?' So I moved to a better place. That was the only solution. We are lucky to live here.
She is right.
New Rules
More new rules? Mad Kathy informed me that when we are not cashiering we are to stand in front of our registers, like at other stores. Yeah, I will not be doing that. Walking in and out of our registers is a pain because two cashiers are in one pod of registers, there is only one small exit space and there are grocery baggers to climb over. That is one too many obstacles to get to the front of my register. I would hate to do this over and over all day only to find out that someone has seen me already and was on his or her way to check out wit me. There are only EIGHT registers. This isn't a super large corporate chain where a customer has 30 cashiers to choose from. If someone wants to buy their groceries, they will not have to travel far to find an open one. If a customer finds himself at a busy line, is in a rush and refuses to make the effort of rotating his head 30 degrees to find an available cashier, it is his fault...
...or maybe I am rationalizing because I am lazy and am apathetic to the new rule. A little of column A, a little of column B.
Sarah Palin
A woman walked into my line who looked EXACTLY like Sarah Palin. I couldn't help myself.
ME: Do people tell you that you look exactly like Sarah Palin?
WOMAN: All of the time. I even had this haircut and hairstyle before she came into the limelight.
ME: I'm kind of sad that you don't sound like her.
WOMAN: Sorry to disappoint you.
ME: I was sad when she didn't run for president because I was hoping to see more Tina Fey on Saturday Night Live.
WOMAN: Before everyone said I look like Sarah Palin they all said I look like Tina Fey.
ME: I wish some woman would run for president that looks like Kristen Wiig. That would be some comedy.
WOMAN: But what kind of woman would be good for a presidential run?
ME: I think the kind of woman I would want to vote for as president would not actually make a good presidential candidate. Not at the moment anyway. She would be too good of a person to be in Washington. She would be targeted by all of the backwards people in our country and all of the men who can't stand working for a woman.
WOMAN: She would have to be manipulative, that is for sure.
ME: Sadly enough.
Touchscreen Generation
For months now, I have watched people prod and poke the hell out of our non-touchscreen credit card reader. It is like watching a monkey try to get a banana out of a locked box. These people do everything but smash the card reader into the ground. I decided to fashion a small sign out of receipt paper to help my customers out. The sign read, "This is not an iPhone. Please use the electronic pen (I drew an arrow indicating its location) to make selections on the screen. The green "Yes" button is on the lower right hand side of the reader. DO NOT press the red button unless you want to cancel the transaction. Thank you."
I placed the sign on top of the reader. It helped everyone! For the next few hours, no one had problems with the credit card reader. No one prodded the shit of the non-touchscreen. Miracle of miracles! A couple of my customers and fellow cashiers saw the sign and laughed.
After a few hours, the Infamous Patti came up to me and removed the sign from my credit card reader.
PATTI: What is this? You can't have this up here!
She laughed and handed me the sign back. Silly old-fashioned Patti. This isn't hurting anyone! It's helping. After she left I put the sign back on. Patti came back about an hour later and took it down.
PATTI: Why did you put this back up? Roz told me to take it down and then you put it back up! You're going to get me in trouble! She is going to think that I am not listening to her!
ME: Oh! I didn't know that Roz told you to take it down! I'm sorry!
PATTI: Yes, Roz. Don't get me in trouble!
I felt bad. I liked Patti. I didn't want her to get in any trouble. I threw away the sign and watched as my customers continued to stab my credit card reader and cancel their transactions on accident. So much for clarity.
The Anti-Mexican
A woman came through my line who was checking stickers and labels on each one of her produce items.
WOMAN: Is there any way I can find out which vegetables and fruits do not come from Mexico without having to fish through that entire section? Is there a list anywhere?
ME: I don't think so. I buy mostly organic food. Whatever I buy that isn't organic are foods that no matter how or where they are grown, they are least likely to have a high amount of pesticide or chemical residues like asparagus, bananas or avocados. They can come from Mexico.
WOMAN: Organic food is too expensive and I'm not buying anything from Mexico.
I bit my tongue and decided not to waste my breath on this woman any longer. She bought her non-Mexican groceries and left.
Pesticides are everywhere, in every country. Some of the more dangerous pesticide-laden fruits and veggies to buy in conventional form are only dangerous to buy from Mexico because, in summary: Some forms of pesticide that were once available in the US became illegal for use here because its poisonous carcinogenic residues remained on plants well into the post rinse. What did the pesticide companies do? Export the pesticide to foreign countries like Mexico. Then what do American grocers do? Import fruits and vegetables from the very farms that bought our outlawed pesticides! How fucked up is that?
Again, this doesn't make ALL conventional fruits and veggies from Mexico potentially dangerous for consumption as I don't know which farmers in Mexico are growing their fruits and vegetables responsibly. The same damn thing could be said for farmers in America! I have read up on the 'conventional vs. organic' food topic quite a bit. What is safe? Buying organic forms of conventional fruits and veggies that tend to be high in pesticide residues like strawberries, apples, spinach and potatoes. Buy conventional forms of fruits and veggies that don't absorb the pesticides as much like asparagus, bananas, avocados and Brussels sprouts. There are LOADS sources on this topic that draw the same conclusion about produce that the anti-Mexican woman is apparently unwilling to search for or read. I shake my head.
Of course organic food is expensive. It is cheaper than ever because it is the fastest growing sector of the food market. All sorts of large food corporations are jumping on this band wagon. There are honest farmers out there that do grow their food responsibly but they can't afford the USDA organic label. Unfortunately, producing and selling organic food in America is costly. This is because integrity is not an industry standard. Money is in charge to the point of being a god. There are some extremely powerful people in charge of the food industry, in charge of many underpaid farmers, who are driven by multi-millions of dollars and they don't give a damn about who is ingesting what carcinogen. Then there is the GMO debate. Ugh. Read and watch documentaries about the food industry. Buy organic.
Off soapbox.
I was tremendously drowsy from taking a large dose of Benadryl last night. I didn't have time to make coffee or stop by Starbucks for a latte, so I settled for coffee samples at work. I was looking half dead, waiting for the breakfast blend to kick in when Elvira walked by my register. She stopped in front of me and gave me a funny look.
ELVIRA: Let me take a picture.
She pulled an imaginary camera out of her pocket and held it up to her face to capture the memory of my looking awful. I played along as if it were a zombie photoshoot.
ELVIRA: Smile!
I slackened my jaw.
ELVIRA: Beautiful.
Elvira being sarcastic? That's new. She has been super pleasant to be around lately. I think I am finally on her good side. Maybe she will let me help bag her groceries now.
Egypt
A beautiful (probably eternally youthful) woman with olive skin came into my line. We did the usualy greet and chat about the day. At one point she looked at my name tag.
WOMAN: Miranda. That is the name of one of my cousins in Egypt who I have not seen in 25 years.
ME: You must miss her.
WOMAN: I do.
ME: Well aren't things better in Egypt now? Maybe you can see her!
WOMAN: I wouldn't travel there now. The post-revolution in Egypt is messy.
We talked more about her family in Egypt. I shared my stories about traveling to India to see my family.
ME: Indians are a beautiful people but there are things that still need fixing in that country. Like bride burning.
WOMAN: Tell me about it. In my country if a man's shirt was burned with an iron, someone would die because of it. I thought, 'What is this stupidity?' So I moved to a better place. That was the only solution. We are lucky to live here.
She is right.
New Rules
More new rules? Mad Kathy informed me that when we are not cashiering we are to stand in front of our registers, like at other stores. Yeah, I will not be doing that. Walking in and out of our registers is a pain because two cashiers are in one pod of registers, there is only one small exit space and there are grocery baggers to climb over. That is one too many obstacles to get to the front of my register. I would hate to do this over and over all day only to find out that someone has seen me already and was on his or her way to check out wit me. There are only EIGHT registers. This isn't a super large corporate chain where a customer has 30 cashiers to choose from. If someone wants to buy their groceries, they will not have to travel far to find an open one. If a customer finds himself at a busy line, is in a rush and refuses to make the effort of rotating his head 30 degrees to find an available cashier, it is his fault...
...or maybe I am rationalizing because I am lazy and am apathetic to the new rule. A little of column A, a little of column B.
Sarah Palin
A woman walked into my line who looked EXACTLY like Sarah Palin. I couldn't help myself.
ME: Do people tell you that you look exactly like Sarah Palin?
WOMAN: All of the time. I even had this haircut and hairstyle before she came into the limelight.
ME: I'm kind of sad that you don't sound like her.
WOMAN: Sorry to disappoint you.
ME: I was sad when she didn't run for president because I was hoping to see more Tina Fey on Saturday Night Live.
WOMAN: Before everyone said I look like Sarah Palin they all said I look like Tina Fey.
ME: I wish some woman would run for president that looks like Kristen Wiig. That would be some comedy.
WOMAN: But what kind of woman would be good for a presidential run?
ME: I think the kind of woman I would want to vote for as president would not actually make a good presidential candidate. Not at the moment anyway. She would be too good of a person to be in Washington. She would be targeted by all of the backwards people in our country and all of the men who can't stand working for a woman.
WOMAN: She would have to be manipulative, that is for sure.
ME: Sadly enough.
Touchscreen Generation
For months now, I have watched people prod and poke the hell out of our non-touchscreen credit card reader. It is like watching a monkey try to get a banana out of a locked box. These people do everything but smash the card reader into the ground. I decided to fashion a small sign out of receipt paper to help my customers out. The sign read, "This is not an iPhone. Please use the electronic pen (I drew an arrow indicating its location) to make selections on the screen. The green "Yes" button is on the lower right hand side of the reader. DO NOT press the red button unless you want to cancel the transaction. Thank you."
I placed the sign on top of the reader. It helped everyone! For the next few hours, no one had problems with the credit card reader. No one prodded the shit of the non-touchscreen. Miracle of miracles! A couple of my customers and fellow cashiers saw the sign and laughed.
After a few hours, the Infamous Patti came up to me and removed the sign from my credit card reader.
PATTI: What is this? You can't have this up here!
She laughed and handed me the sign back. Silly old-fashioned Patti. This isn't hurting anyone! It's helping. After she left I put the sign back on. Patti came back about an hour later and took it down.
PATTI: Why did you put this back up? Roz told me to take it down and then you put it back up! You're going to get me in trouble! She is going to think that I am not listening to her!
ME: Oh! I didn't know that Roz told you to take it down! I'm sorry!
PATTI: Yes, Roz. Don't get me in trouble!
I felt bad. I liked Patti. I didn't want her to get in any trouble. I threw away the sign and watched as my customers continued to stab my credit card reader and cancel their transactions on accident. So much for clarity.
The Anti-Mexican
A woman came through my line who was checking stickers and labels on each one of her produce items.
WOMAN: Is there any way I can find out which vegetables and fruits do not come from Mexico without having to fish through that entire section? Is there a list anywhere?
ME: I don't think so. I buy mostly organic food. Whatever I buy that isn't organic are foods that no matter how or where they are grown, they are least likely to have a high amount of pesticide or chemical residues like asparagus, bananas or avocados. They can come from Mexico.
WOMAN: Organic food is too expensive and I'm not buying anything from Mexico.
I bit my tongue and decided not to waste my breath on this woman any longer. She bought her non-Mexican groceries and left.
Pesticides are everywhere, in every country. Some of the more dangerous pesticide-laden fruits and veggies to buy in conventional form are only dangerous to buy from Mexico because, in summary: Some forms of pesticide that were once available in the US became illegal for use here because its poisonous carcinogenic residues remained on plants well into the post rinse. What did the pesticide companies do? Export the pesticide to foreign countries like Mexico. Then what do American grocers do? Import fruits and vegetables from the very farms that bought our outlawed pesticides! How fucked up is that?
Again, this doesn't make ALL conventional fruits and veggies from Mexico potentially dangerous for consumption as I don't know which farmers in Mexico are growing their fruits and vegetables responsibly. The same damn thing could be said for farmers in America! I have read up on the 'conventional vs. organic' food topic quite a bit. What is safe? Buying organic forms of conventional fruits and veggies that tend to be high in pesticide residues like strawberries, apples, spinach and potatoes. Buy conventional forms of fruits and veggies that don't absorb the pesticides as much like asparagus, bananas, avocados and Brussels sprouts. There are LOADS sources on this topic that draw the same conclusion about produce that the anti-Mexican woman is apparently unwilling to search for or read. I shake my head.
Of course organic food is expensive. It is cheaper than ever because it is the fastest growing sector of the food market. All sorts of large food corporations are jumping on this band wagon. There are honest farmers out there that do grow their food responsibly but they can't afford the USDA organic label. Unfortunately, producing and selling organic food in America is costly. This is because integrity is not an industry standard. Money is in charge to the point of being a god. There are some extremely powerful people in charge of the food industry, in charge of many underpaid farmers, who are driven by multi-millions of dollars and they don't give a damn about who is ingesting what carcinogen. Then there is the GMO debate. Ugh. Read and watch documentaries about the food industry. Buy organic.
Off soapbox.
Monday, January 7, 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Day Eleven
It's Father's Day. One would think this would make for an easy conversation starter, but I dare not bring it up unless I see a father with his son or unless the customer brings it up. What if a customer had recently lost a father or a son? What if a customer just went through a divorce or had an abusive dad? What if a couple was trying to get pregnant and couldn't because one of the two was sterile? Nope. I'm not going to bring it up.
Trojan Boy
A guy walked up and I noticed he had a pair of those expanders that increase the diameter of an ear piercing. The diameter of his piercing was at an inch, it took him several months to get it there. I then heard giggling behind me but I paid it no attention. I told the customer that his piercing reminded me of my great grandmothers in India. They would wear the most dreadfully heavy large gold hoops. If I didn't know any better I would have thought they were putting really thick bracelets on the wrong part of their bodies. These heavy earrings would pull at the diameter of the piercing, leaving gaping large holes in their earlobes. When those holes got too big, one of my GG's pierced the top of her ears, wearing the same gold, bracelet-sized earrings. When I visited her as a child, all I could focus on were the gigantic ear holes. "Interesting," laughed my customer. After conversing with him and checking out his groceries, I wished him a nice day and he went on his way. Then I was approached by O.C.Daisy.
DAISY: What was up with that hair?
ME: Huh?
DAISY: That customer you just had, he looks like a skunk. We were all just staring at it (and laughing apparently). He looks like that guy on the Trojan condom commercial. You know, the one with his hair blown way back? [She laughs.]
ME: No, I don't know. I didn't notice his hair.
Maybe he did have big hair, so fucking what? I don't know why I was offended at what O.C.D. said. Maybe it was because I had just finished having a nice conversation with this guy and the other girls were making fun of him. I felt like they were making fun of a friend of mine. Maybe Daisy meant no harm, but I don't think anyone who has missing teeth should make fun of how anyone else looks.
Men's Day
A lady came up in my line and started a conversation about Father's day with the Infamous Patti. They knew each other somehow.
LADY: Today we had Men's Day at church. All of the fathers and grandfathers were allowed to come to church wearing whatever they wanted and there was a grill and we all had barbeque after the service.
PATTI: Did they actually come wearing whatever they wanted?
LADY: Oh yes! They looked a mess wearing flip flops, shorts, cut-offs-
ME: Wife beaters?
LADY: [no response]
ME: I mean, white tank tops?
LADY: No, none of those.
Another reason why I shouldn't talk about Father's Day.
Anna Wintour, Jr.
A customer walked up to buy groceries and loaded everything on the belt. She then called her daughter from behind her and up comes this ultra fabulous little five year old. She had on a hot pink shirt and over it she donned a black and white fake leopard fur jacket (keep in mind, this is summertime in Texas). Incognito, she wore on the most "Vogue" pair of sunglasses you'll ever see on a little kid. She was carrying her own little basket and from it she handed me a bag of chocolate covered pretzels. I rang it in and gave her the total. Her little bangles clinked together as she reached into a little white leather purse and took out a hot pink wallet that she kept only two dollars in. After I gave her change back, she said, "Thank you very much," and walked back behind her mom.
I wondered if this was how her mom acts. I looked at the mom. She was a pretty ordinary looking mom, ordinarily dressed. "She really loves to play shopping," she said about her daughter. This was play time for that little girl? She loves going to stores and pretending to be a grown up, and all with her mom? That is so cute.
BharataNOTyam
This girl walked into the store with the most makeup I have ever seen on anyone's face, ever. Everything was caked on, foundation, blush, huge amounts of black eyeliner, her lip liner was a darker red than her lips, and her face was blushed over with an iridescent shade of bluish purple. It was as if she was going for this look seen in Bharatanatyam Indian classical dance:
This is stage makeup, so the facial features may appear large. Bharatanatyam is really beautiful to see and the music is killin', metrically and melodically. This customer went beyond this kind of makeup, like she was trying to look like Krishna.
ME: Are you wearing stage or dance makeup?
GIRL: No.
ME: Oh.
PATTI: [nervously] Looks pretty, looks pretty.
Patti, always there to attempt to make an awkward moment less awkward. The most interesting thing of all was that she was in the store to purchase facial soap. At least she takes care of her skin. I could tell that under that face, was a naturally beautiful girl. Oh well, this is her statement. To each his (or her) own.
P.S. I will NEVER make fun of Cake Eyes ever again.
Hannibal Lecter
A man walked up in my line and for some crazy reason, this conversation began:
MAN: Did you know the longest a city could live without food is 2 weeks?
ME: Without food? Just water, right?
MAN: Right.
ME: Interesting.
MAN: I read that while reading about cannibalism.
ME: Cannibalism. So you're a cannibal? [I took off my name tag and threw it in my drawer]
MAN: Ha. If were to be a cannibal, I would probably want to go after someone who is obese.
ME: No you wouldn't, because that would be mostly fat. What you want is lean muscle.
MAN: You would be right.
ME: I can't believe we are having this conversation.
I'm sure that I was speaking to a normal human being who eats plants and animals, but to be sure I had someone walk me to my car when I left.
Update: Elvira
Elvira was working next to me today. She responded to my greetings and was even conversing with me about cooking at one point. During my shift, a customer walked up with a very tired little girl in her arm. The little girl had just returned with her mom and dad from Disney World the previous day, and she was covered in glittery temporary tattoos. I was curious and asked if she got those at Disney World and the mom said she did them herself. I was so impressed, these tattoos looked so good and apparently they last ten days. Elvira jumped into the conversation, saying that you could get the materials from a place called Brilliant Sky and went on about how you do it.
After that customer left, I had a moment to stand still and think about how far Elvira had come from being completely anti-social to this. I wondered why she is so initially cold to me and to others. Was she waiting to find out if I'm nice/not an idiot? Maybe it's just today that she's being nice. I did hear the usually unemotional Speedy Gonzales laugh later in the day. Like, genuine happy laughter. What the hell was happening? Maybe I'm in the Twilight Zone.
Update: The Infamous Patti
So Patti turned out to be a super helpful, awesome and fun head cashier. All the warnings I got about her being slow and hard to work with were bogus. One day I asked her if her eyelashes were really as long as they look. She told me get little eyelash extensions put in, that is is one of her treats she gives herself. That, and mani/pedis. She told me she doesn't go out ever and she lives with her brother and his wife. I found that peculiar.
She then told me she wasn't married, that her husband died last year of colon cancer. He had no warning, he didn't show any symptoms. Once the doctor diagnosed him, he died two months later. She told me he was an alcoholic. I said I was sorry for her loss. She said, "Oh, there's nothing you can do about it. He really did this to himself. It honestly hurt more when my dad died this past January."
Damn.
Without going into much detail about her marriage, she said she was raised Catholic and there was no such thing as getting a divorce, from this I assumed her husband made her life miserable. She said, "the odd thing is, when you lose your spouse, you end up missing all of the things that aggravated you. It's crazy."
She also told me about how she lost her mother to Alzheimer's disease. Her mom suffered from it for eleven years. Patti would visit her mom with her husband and her mom would think Patti was her husband's mistress. Patti had suffered, very recently, an incredible amount of loss, yet she is so sweet, nice and energetic every time I see her at work. When it gets really busy she comes over to my register to help bag groceries and say, "Can I play 'store' with you?" Like a kid. She told me all of the sad details of her life like she had reached closure, even peace about it all. Patti is the epitome of strength.
Trojan Boy
A guy walked up and I noticed he had a pair of those expanders that increase the diameter of an ear piercing. The diameter of his piercing was at an inch, it took him several months to get it there. I then heard giggling behind me but I paid it no attention. I told the customer that his piercing reminded me of my great grandmothers in India. They would wear the most dreadfully heavy large gold hoops. If I didn't know any better I would have thought they were putting really thick bracelets on the wrong part of their bodies. These heavy earrings would pull at the diameter of the piercing, leaving gaping large holes in their earlobes. When those holes got too big, one of my GG's pierced the top of her ears, wearing the same gold, bracelet-sized earrings. When I visited her as a child, all I could focus on were the gigantic ear holes. "Interesting," laughed my customer. After conversing with him and checking out his groceries, I wished him a nice day and he went on his way. Then I was approached by O.C.Daisy.
DAISY: What was up with that hair?
ME: Huh?
DAISY: That customer you just had, he looks like a skunk. We were all just staring at it (and laughing apparently). He looks like that guy on the Trojan condom commercial. You know, the one with his hair blown way back? [She laughs.]
ME: No, I don't know. I didn't notice his hair.
Maybe he did have big hair, so fucking what? I don't know why I was offended at what O.C.D. said. Maybe it was because I had just finished having a nice conversation with this guy and the other girls were making fun of him. I felt like they were making fun of a friend of mine. Maybe Daisy meant no harm, but I don't think anyone who has missing teeth should make fun of how anyone else looks.
Men's Day
A lady came up in my line and started a conversation about Father's day with the Infamous Patti. They knew each other somehow.
LADY: Today we had Men's Day at church. All of the fathers and grandfathers were allowed to come to church wearing whatever they wanted and there was a grill and we all had barbeque after the service.
PATTI: Did they actually come wearing whatever they wanted?
LADY: Oh yes! They looked a mess wearing flip flops, shorts, cut-offs-
ME: Wife beaters?
LADY: [no response]
ME: I mean, white tank tops?
LADY: No, none of those.
Another reason why I shouldn't talk about Father's Day.
Anna Wintour, Jr.
A customer walked up to buy groceries and loaded everything on the belt. She then called her daughter from behind her and up comes this ultra fabulous little five year old. She had on a hot pink shirt and over it she donned a black and white fake leopard fur jacket (keep in mind, this is summertime in Texas). Incognito, she wore on the most "Vogue" pair of sunglasses you'll ever see on a little kid. She was carrying her own little basket and from it she handed me a bag of chocolate covered pretzels. I rang it in and gave her the total. Her little bangles clinked together as she reached into a little white leather purse and took out a hot pink wallet that she kept only two dollars in. After I gave her change back, she said, "Thank you very much," and walked back behind her mom.
I wondered if this was how her mom acts. I looked at the mom. She was a pretty ordinary looking mom, ordinarily dressed. "She really loves to play shopping," she said about her daughter. This was play time for that little girl? She loves going to stores and pretending to be a grown up, and all with her mom? That is so cute.
BharataNOTyam
This girl walked into the store with the most makeup I have ever seen on anyone's face, ever. Everything was caked on, foundation, blush, huge amounts of black eyeliner, her lip liner was a darker red than her lips, and her face was blushed over with an iridescent shade of bluish purple. It was as if she was going for this look seen in Bharatanatyam Indian classical dance:
This is stage makeup, so the facial features may appear large. Bharatanatyam is really beautiful to see and the music is killin', metrically and melodically. This customer went beyond this kind of makeup, like she was trying to look like Krishna.
ME: Are you wearing stage or dance makeup?
GIRL: No.
ME: Oh.
PATTI: [nervously] Looks pretty, looks pretty.
Patti, always there to attempt to make an awkward moment less awkward. The most interesting thing of all was that she was in the store to purchase facial soap. At least she takes care of her skin. I could tell that under that face, was a naturally beautiful girl. Oh well, this is her statement. To each his (or her) own.
P.S. I will NEVER make fun of Cake Eyes ever again.
Hannibal Lecter
A man walked up in my line and for some crazy reason, this conversation began:
MAN: Did you know the longest a city could live without food is 2 weeks?
ME: Without food? Just water, right?
MAN: Right.
ME: Interesting.
MAN: I read that while reading about cannibalism.
ME: Cannibalism. So you're a cannibal? [I took off my name tag and threw it in my drawer]
MAN: Ha. If were to be a cannibal, I would probably want to go after someone who is obese.
ME: No you wouldn't, because that would be mostly fat. What you want is lean muscle.
MAN: You would be right.
ME: I can't believe we are having this conversation.
I'm sure that I was speaking to a normal human being who eats plants and animals, but to be sure I had someone walk me to my car when I left.
Update: Elvira
Elvira was working next to me today. She responded to my greetings and was even conversing with me about cooking at one point. During my shift, a customer walked up with a very tired little girl in her arm. The little girl had just returned with her mom and dad from Disney World the previous day, and she was covered in glittery temporary tattoos. I was curious and asked if she got those at Disney World and the mom said she did them herself. I was so impressed, these tattoos looked so good and apparently they last ten days. Elvira jumped into the conversation, saying that you could get the materials from a place called Brilliant Sky and went on about how you do it.
After that customer left, I had a moment to stand still and think about how far Elvira had come from being completely anti-social to this. I wondered why she is so initially cold to me and to others. Was she waiting to find out if I'm nice/not an idiot? Maybe it's just today that she's being nice. I did hear the usually unemotional Speedy Gonzales laugh later in the day. Like, genuine happy laughter. What the hell was happening? Maybe I'm in the Twilight Zone.
Update: The Infamous Patti
So Patti turned out to be a super helpful, awesome and fun head cashier. All the warnings I got about her being slow and hard to work with were bogus. One day I asked her if her eyelashes were really as long as they look. She told me get little eyelash extensions put in, that is is one of her treats she gives herself. That, and mani/pedis. She told me she doesn't go out ever and she lives with her brother and his wife. I found that peculiar.
She then told me she wasn't married, that her husband died last year of colon cancer. He had no warning, he didn't show any symptoms. Once the doctor diagnosed him, he died two months later. She told me he was an alcoholic. I said I was sorry for her loss. She said, "Oh, there's nothing you can do about it. He really did this to himself. It honestly hurt more when my dad died this past January."
Damn.
Without going into much detail about her marriage, she said she was raised Catholic and there was no such thing as getting a divorce, from this I assumed her husband made her life miserable. She said, "the odd thing is, when you lose your spouse, you end up missing all of the things that aggravated you. It's crazy."
She also told me about how she lost her mother to Alzheimer's disease. Her mom suffered from it for eleven years. Patti would visit her mom with her husband and her mom would think Patti was her husband's mistress. Patti had suffered, very recently, an incredible amount of loss, yet she is so sweet, nice and energetic every time I see her at work. When it gets really busy she comes over to my register to help bag groceries and say, "Can I play 'store' with you?" Like a kid. She told me all of the sad details of her life like she had reached closure, even peace about it all. Patti is the epitome of strength.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Day Two
So, I was five minutes late to work. Don't be alarmed, this store has an insanely lenient late policy. Once you have been late 25 times up to 30 minutes late you get a verbal warning. After another several many times you get a written warning, several more times, a final warning, then after several MORE times, your employment will be terminated. I'll give you a moment to laugh...
So again, I was five minutes late to work. I felt bad, but not that bad. I live 30 minutes away from this place and I still wasn't used to the traffic or what not. You know, excuses.
Cake Eyes
Before going to my register I stepped into the office to tuck in my shirt. The head cashier walked up to me.
HEAD CASHIER: What time did you punch in?
ME: Agh, five minutes late. I'm sorry.
HEAD CASHIER: [Hands me a sheet of paper] This is the new attendance policy. Give it a read, sign it and hand it in. It's a new point system. Every time you are late you get 1/2 a point penalty. Once you accumulate (whatever many, I wasn't really listening) points you lose your job. [She then turns away and goes back to her register]
Not a new attendance policy. This was the first thing I checked in the employee manual. The second thing I checked was vacation policy. This head cashier is an older woman with poorly dyed red hair. Over her eyelids she applies so much pasty blue eye shadow you would think it was war paint. Makeup, for many women, is useful for bringing out or emphasizing one's natural beauty. Cake Eyes had so much on her eyelids, above and below the crease, that you could see every wrinkle (every seemingly bottomless crevice) under the shadow. Her mother had failed her in this department.
Cake Eyes put me in a funk because never, before or after giving me the attendance policy speech, did she say, "Hi. How are you doing? What happened this morning?" She never talked to me for the rest of the day except to say, "You can go on break now." She was so nice to me the previous day. We talked about families. She apparently has a daughter who is training to supervise celebrity tours in Disneyland. I thought that was pretty cool. I wondered if my being five minutes late made things inconvenient for her or anyone else. Since there were only three customers in the store, they were fine. If it takes being late 25 times to get a verbal warning, why was I getting one now?
Sally Spec: Prologue
I learned that employees with long hair had to tie hair up. I immediately noticed a bunch of girls that had their hair down. I asked around if the head cashiers took that rule seriously. I heard from several that as long as your hair is out of your face it's cool. AWESOME. My hair is my favorite thing about my physical appearance. I was glad it wouldn't have to be in a bun or ponytail all summer. Two days later one of the cashiers came up to me and said, "You have to tie your hair."
I turned around and noticed other girls with their hair in buns. I learned later that we were ratted out. Some girl complained that she is the only one tying up her hair, that is what she was told to do in training and no one else was following the rules. I wanted to know who this girl was so I could instantly NOT like her.
Sally Spec: Chapter One
I found out who complained. I ended up having to work in the register next to her. I walk up to put my till in the register and she points out the "new" attendance policy to me right away, just like Cake Eyes.
SALLY SPEC: If you are late you get 1/2 a point.
As if I can't fucking read.
ME: Eh, it will be fine.
SALLY: But if you acquire [whatever many points, I wasn't fully paying attention] you'll get fired.
ME: I DON'T PLAN ON BEING LATE EVERYDAY!
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, inhale...exhale...
Okay, so I lost my cool. I didn't want to go there again. I would not go there again. I chose to do what I always do when a coworker pisses me off, I turned my focus to the customers. I was instantly cheered up by a little girl who did this:
My next customer pays with cash and hands me a twenty dollar bill and once the register opened I realized I never broke open the rolls of coins]
ME: [to the customer] Oops! I knew I was forgetting something!
SALLY: [turns to me] Before you start checking out customers, you need to open all of the rolls of coins.
ME: I know, I always do. Like I said, I forgot.
SALLY: Oh.
Later...
ME: [to the CUSTOMER, while ringing in poblano peppers and looking for the code in a code book] I believe poblano peppers are listed as pasilla green peppers. [then I found the code]
SALLY: Those are listed as pasilla green peppers, number [I don't fucking remember, I fucking hate this bitch]
ME: I got the number already.
...and later...
BITCH: [cleaning up papers and return items between registers] I am a clean freak, I need to have my side of this surface clean.
ME: [pulls out blank receipt paper, writes note to self: "Make a bigger mess."]
This girl has nothing better to say me. No friendly talk, just waiting for and pointing out my sporadic flaws. I think she thinks she is being helpful, or maybe she and Elvira are in this together and they are out to get me.
Sally Spec: Epilogue
In her last 30 minutes of working next to me, Sally turns around.
SALLY: Does you head ever hurt from having your hair in a ponytail for a long time?
ME: Yeah, I try to keep my hair loosely tied so it doesn't hurt.
Holy shit, progress. She went from pointing out my flaws to complaining about her own problems. I'll take it.
The Parent Teacher
Screaming toddlers frequent grocery stores all of the time, most of the time it's because they didn't get whatever nutritionally deficient food item they wanted. I have prompts for every time a child screams or cries in my line, one of which is, "Awwww, life is hard..." The parent usually laughs. I have seen really awesome parents ignore the screaming child, unwilling to respond and enable this bad behavior. I have seen other parents give the child whatever they want (this child is likely to scream again). I thought I had parents properly categorized until this one particular dad walked up with his toddler. The toddler was making a noise that was the most unpleasant of all, a grating scream/yell. The dad had just taken a bag of cashews away from the toddler so that I could ring it in. Oh hell, the screaming. When the child turned his face, I noticed he had down syndrome.
The father smiled at the child and hugged him. The child would scream again, then the father would hug him and kiss him on the cheek. This happened over an over until it was time to pay for groceries. I handed the dad the cashews to give back to the boy and the dad swiped his credit card. I tried my best to distract the boy while his dad was busy but the boy went silent and gave me the "stranger danger" vibe. Good boy. I handed the father his receipt, he gave his son another smile, hug and kiss and went on his way. I was so thankful to witness this. It was the definition of love.
Old Man #1
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: [no response]
ME: Did you find everything okay?
OLD MAN: [no response, pressed lips in a slight frown]
Okay, I get it. For whatever reason this guy does not want to talk.
ME: Credit or debit?
OLD MAN: [no response]
Damn. Okay, can't win this one over. I handed him his receipt and upon taking it he looked up at me, smiled and said, "Hi!"
Thor
This 9 or 10 year old kid would grab every bag of groceries after my coworker helped bag them. He would hang the thin bags over both elbow joints and he would pose in a "tickets to the gun show" kind of way. As the bags accumulated I knew the groceries had to be getting dangerously heavier for this kid. He assured me he was fine. You can guess what happened next...
I Have Tattoos and I Don't Want To Talk
A twenty something female walks through my line wearing sunglasses. When I asked her how she was doing I'm sure she might have said, "Fine." At least I saw her lips form what looked like the word, maybe. The rest of the responses were similar. Mouth movement, no audible sound. She had a big colorful tattoo all of the way down her arm. I asked her how long it took to get the tattoo, she replied, "It took three months." Success! An actual audible sentence! I then told her I had a tattoo, but that it only took 15 minutes and it hurt like hell. She did not give a shit. With most people that have tattoos it is pretty easy to strike up a conversation about body art. Not with this girl. She just wanted to get out. Hint taken. Okay, get this girl out of here. Then her receipt printed and it looked like this:
The Infamous Patti
Ever since I got to this store I was told that a head cashier was on vacation who I would probably end up hating to work with. The day before Patti showed up, I was closing out my drawer with another head cashier. "Patti is coming in tomorrow. You have fun with that," and she laughed. I asked what was wrong with Patti. I was given a long list of why Patti is hard to work with, including being really slow. I wasn't sure to trust that. I don't like it when anyone talks shit about someone else to make up my mind for me about how I am not going to like this person. The next day came and Patti showed up in the middle of my shift after the warm welcome from Cake Eyes and Sally Spec. Patti walks right up to me.
PATTI: Hi! I heard you snuck in while I was on vacation! I'm Patti, are you Miranda? [she shakes my hand] It's so nice to meet you.
Patti was quick to respond to my pages, she helped bag my customers' groceries and joined in on my conversations with them. Then when I had to close out my drawer Patti was swift. She was neither slow nor difficult to work with and she was kind. Why all of the shit talking? What the hell is wrong with people?
Dirty Harry
It had been a long semi-miserable day at work. The only thing that got me through the worst parts of it was the fact that it was all good writing material. One of my last customers walks up to me. He is wearing a dirty t-shirt and his hands and arms were dirty. He handed me his drink and food and smiled big with the most kind greeting I had heard all day.
HARRY: How are you doing today?
ME: I'm great. Thanks for asking! How are you?
HARRY: I'm doing fantastic. Today is a good day.
ME: [relieved] Wow, thank you so much for being happy and positive.
HARRY: Sure! There's no sense in goin' through life hatin' life.
...and that is the gospel truth.
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