JAY: Late much?
ME: I'm working on it!
Jay, my manager-on-duty, didn't care that I was less than two weeks away from leaving the store. Normally I would laugh about it, but I was actually glad that someone still cares about me doing better. It's either that or he feels highly disrespected by my lack of punctuality. Maybe both. I was late because I wanted to sleep as much as possible. I was so happy to get seven hours of sleep last night, but I still had more sleep to catch up on.
Old Lady #15
The store was very busy today and I was getting customers out of my line faster than my usual pace. An old lady bought a few things and her total was $5.70. I almost entered a $57,000 check into my register. It would not have gone through but I thought I would entertain my customer with the idea.
ME: I tried to get you a lot of change.
OLD LADY: How much?
ME: $56,994
OLD LADY: That check would have bounced like a hot potato!
ME: Bounced like a hot potato? I have to find some way to use that phrase!
OLD LADY: You know, I used to think it was a stupid phrase my mother used.
ME: Then you became your mother.
OLD LADY: All women do, no matter how much they fight it.
Storm Cloud
When I went on break, I noticed that one of my friends called. I had not talked to her in a week. I didn't really notice this week go by because my days were getting longer and more busy. I called her back to see what was up. In summary, I found out that an act of kindness on my behalf was viewed as attempted betrayal (she thought I made her look bad). When I assured her I meant no harm and she understood that as a possibility, she still wanted me to acknowledge my indiscretion. I was sorry that she felt so hurt, but I refused to apologize for being nice. In the end, two prideful alpha females refused to submit to the other side's view and our friendship was brought to an end. This painful conversation also took up my entire 15 minute break.
As I went back to work I put my phone in my pocket. This did not go unnoticed by Cake Eyes.
CAKE EYES: You can't have that phone up here, Miranda.
ME: Okay... [I put the phone in my pocket and walked to my register]
After that dismissive response, I slipped my phone into my drawer. "Go ahead, Cake Eyes," I thought, "Try and take my phone away." If she kept grinding my gears any further I was going to cut her head off.
"Calm down," I repeated under my breath. I ran the conversation with my friend over a couple of times in my head. I really tried to see things her way but all I could conclude was that she is insecure. I don't hurt my friends on purpose and I am usually quick to admit when I am wrong. I didn't do anything wrong. I was being punished for being nice. We all reach an age where we decide that we are unwilling to put up with bullshit. I am well past that age. I refused to let this ruin my day. Enter Elvira...
ELVIRA: Be gentle!
Elvira made me realize that I was chucking my customers' fruits and veggies to the bagger after I weighed them. I shook my head at myself. I was mad. I apologized and made a point of not taking my bad day out on the groceries.
Several more customers came through and I was way more careful with grocery items. I called out to Elvira who was one register over.
ME: Look Elvira! I'm being gentle!
ELVIRA: [frowned] Are you making fun of me?
The frown turned into a scowl. Great, now I was back on Elvira's shit list. She had obviously misinterpreted what I said. This wasn't because of her general lack of humor. I thought she and I had made progress. Who else was I going to make mad today? The next couple of hours was like walking on eggshells. Not so much because I was afraid of making anyone mad, but more because I couldn't take anymore negativity or criticism.
A woman came into my line who told me she was going to another store after grocery shopping and was considering buying a freezer bag. I told her to save her money. I went into our freezer to grab a couple small bags of ice to keep certain foods cold and I doubled bagged these cold foods to keep condensation from ruining her car's interior.
WOMAN: Oh my word. Thank you! Has anyone told you you're AWESOME today?
I froze when she said that, staring at her in disbelief.
ME: No. No one has told me that today. Thank you for saying that.
As I tore off her receipt and told this woman, "Have a nice day," tears began to well in my eyes. The next customer came up and the tears were then pouring down my face. As this customer took out his credit card to pay, I crouched down to blot my face dry with a paper towel. It was pointless, as I kept sobbing for two more customers. I had to close my line and walk away. I didn't want to cry in the office or the kitchen. I ran into the foyer and hid behind a tall display of hundreds of water bottles. I sat of the floor and cried for several minutes. Catharsis took over, releasing all the fatigue, anger, stress and imposing hatred from my system--a catharsis I needed to be able to function, triggered by the kind words of that one customer.
Once I felt better I walked back into the store and headed straight for the bulk section. I bought ten dark chocolate covered almonds and walked over to Klepto Sue's line. No one seemed to notice my leaving or question it. Sue made fun of how I only ever bought chocolate from her line. Quite possibly true. I could be known for worse things. Alleged kleptomania aside, Sue was fun to talk to. When things were not busy, she would come around to bag groceries for me.
A baby with a cupcake shirt came along. Angst-y teenagers came by wearing t-shirts that read, "Meh." The old lady who plays pickle ball came in with another matching workout jumpsuit. This time it was neon orange. I met a German lady to whom I got to show off my newly acquired German diction skills. I could tell she was German because she pronounced "still" as "shteel". Almost all of the rest of my customers increasingly put me in a better mood.
I hate to cry, I really do, but the most beautiful thing about crying is that you can really feel that first smile afterward and every smile after that is precious.
Showing posts with label Old Lady. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Old Lady. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
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.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Day Thirty Eight
Update: Cake Eyes
It was 8am and I was alone with Cake Eyes on the front end. While checking out my own customers I listened to how she talked with her customers. She seemed to know her customers personally and she made good conversation with them. It makes sense. There are probably shoppers that come into the store on fixed days at fixed times. Cake Eyes is the only person who gets a fixed schedule, no wonder she has a lot of regulars. She opens the store at 7am and leaves at 2pm, Monday through Friday.
An hour later, Mad Kathy came in and we were discussing how I slammed my finger in my car door the previous night. It was bruised and I couldn't bend it. I took Advil for the pain but it didn't seem to work.
ME: I do have hydrocodone at home.
KATHY: That stuff works.
ME: Yeah I should take that, then I would be really entertaining at work.
CAKE EYES: [walked over to us] Did someone say hydrocodone?
ME: Yes. My finger is super bruised. I'm in extreme pain.
CAKE EYES: I take hydrocodone twice a day.
ME: Egads! Why do you take that much hydrocodone?
CAKE EYES: I have a bunch of rods and metal in my lower back. I can't stand for long.
ME: How did that happen?
CAKE EYES: When I was young I was a cheerleader. I practiced every day and every night. I jumped and I jumped and I tumbled millions of times over and over for years and years. I loved it but it messed up my back.
ME: Did you cheer in college?
CAKE EYES: No, but I did teach elementary school cheerleaders. I loved it.
Customers came along and cut our conversation short. Cake Eyes, cheerleader for life? She does still look like a cheerleader, just old with tons of eye shadow. She wears a khaki skirt and her hair in a ponytail everyday. Cheerleader. After her shift she came through my line with her usual two large bottles of Chardonnay. Chardonnay with hydrocodone. How the hell is she NOT in a coma?
ME: So when were you born?
CAKE EYES: I was born in 1955.
ME: Ah, you were a teen in the 70s. Did you wear bell bottoms?
CAKE EYES: Oh yeah, bell bottoms and flower power! Woo! [I handed her receipt and she walked off]
I was concerned for Cake Eyes but I was also glad that we were getting along better. I'm so glad that drugs and 70s fashion have allowed us to bond.
More New Rules
Roz came up to me to share the new attendance policy with me, which was probably inspired by me.
ROZ: New attendance rule. If you're late 8 times, you get an instant final warning. One more tardy after that? Your employment will be terminated.
ME: 8 times? Sheesh.
ROZ: If this was a rule before now, you would be in trouble.
True. I really should try to make it to work on time. The only fishy thing was, I never heard Roz share this new rule with anyone else. I also didn't have to sign anything indicating that I am aware of the new rule. Maybe they really just wanted me to show up on time and they were sending higher ups to scare me with more strict fake rules. Cute.
A Word of Advice:
Don't joke about cancer with the elderly.
ME: Hi! How is your morning going?
OLD LADY: Lovely! How about yours?
ME: Mine is great too! I got up early and walked the dogs. The weather is so nice before the sun comes up.
OLD LADY: I agree.
ME: It's nice to be outdoors without worrying that I going to get skin cancer. [I laughed]
She stopped talking to me. I felt like an ass. What if she had skin cancer? Her parents? Her friends? Stupid Miranda.
Update: Ryan and Sally Spec
Sally Spec came in with makeup on! She never wears make up. She has the kind of clean pretty face that doesn't need makeup.
ME: Your makeup looks nice!
SALLY: Yeah, Ryan (her boyfriend, our head cashier) has to work a 12 hour shift today. He is so tired already from working so much that I knew he would be in a bad mood, so I decided to look nice. I made his lunch and I baked him cookies.
ME: Girlfriend of the year!
SALLY: Yeah, I like him.
I watched whenever Sally and Ryan were talking by themselves. I saw Ryan smiling at Sally like he thinks she is the best girl ever. They are sweet.
Old Lady #12
An old lady bought groceries from my line and walked off to her car with her cart after checking out. A minute later she ran back in holding a bag of carrots.
OLD LADY: I'm so sorry dear. I almost stole these. Whew!
ME: A dollar of carrots? You crook!
OLD LADY: If ever go to jail, I'm going to go for a real reason.
Richard Gere: Part Three
Copycat went on break and she came through my line to buy some food. Every time Copycat buys things from my register, she greets me the exact same way even if she greeted me the same way three times that day so far.
COPYCAT: Hi. How are you doing today?
ME: You already greeted me that way. Greet me another way.
COPYCAT: Okay. [she thought for a while and nervously laughed] I don't know!
ME: You could say, "Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?"
COPYCAT: Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?
ME: Target! Can you believe it?
COPYCAT: Wow. I like it.
ME: Do you shop at Target?
COPYCAT: Sometimes I do with my sister.
That's when, behind Copycat's head, I saw Richard Gere walk in with basket in hand. I wanted to vomit. I finished my transaction with Copycat and timed out when exactly this sex addict-cheater-jerk would walk through my line. He is on a juicing diet so it wouldn't take him more than five minutes to gather whatever vegetables he needed. I waited three minutes and then I hid in the front office. Ryan came by.
RYAN: What are you doing?
ME: I'm hiding from someone.
RYAN: Who?
ME: This guy who cheated on one of my friends by soliciting sex to strangers, he is trying find out how my friend is doing through me and the very sight of him makes me want to vomit.
The manager-on-duty, named Jay, walked in.
JAY: What are you doing?
RYAN: She is hiding from someone.
JAY: Do we need to beat someone up?
I considered it.
ME: No. He needs to be paid no attention. I'm going to keep hiding.
I peaked out of the door. Richard Gere was in Crazy Red Head Vegan's line. I'm sure he was charming her in some way. Blech. I continued to hide. A minute later I looked and noticed he had left CRV's line. The coast was clear. I walked out of the office at the same time I noticed Richard Gere walking back to CRV's register. He had forgotten something. "Oh shit!" I thought and I broke into a sprint, running into the kitchen 20 feet to the left. I remained there for several minutes. There was no way Richard Gere would have missed seeing me running away at the sight of him. I might as well have stayed at my register and told him to his face that I don't want to talk to him...but this works too.
It was 8am and I was alone with Cake Eyes on the front end. While checking out my own customers I listened to how she talked with her customers. She seemed to know her customers personally and she made good conversation with them. It makes sense. There are probably shoppers that come into the store on fixed days at fixed times. Cake Eyes is the only person who gets a fixed schedule, no wonder she has a lot of regulars. She opens the store at 7am and leaves at 2pm, Monday through Friday.
An hour later, Mad Kathy came in and we were discussing how I slammed my finger in my car door the previous night. It was bruised and I couldn't bend it. I took Advil for the pain but it didn't seem to work.
ME: I do have hydrocodone at home.
KATHY: That stuff works.
ME: Yeah I should take that, then I would be really entertaining at work.
CAKE EYES: [walked over to us] Did someone say hydrocodone?
ME: Yes. My finger is super bruised. I'm in extreme pain.
CAKE EYES: I take hydrocodone twice a day.
ME: Egads! Why do you take that much hydrocodone?
CAKE EYES: I have a bunch of rods and metal in my lower back. I can't stand for long.
ME: How did that happen?
CAKE EYES: When I was young I was a cheerleader. I practiced every day and every night. I jumped and I jumped and I tumbled millions of times over and over for years and years. I loved it but it messed up my back.
ME: Did you cheer in college?
CAKE EYES: No, but I did teach elementary school cheerleaders. I loved it.
Customers came along and cut our conversation short. Cake Eyes, cheerleader for life? She does still look like a cheerleader, just old with tons of eye shadow. She wears a khaki skirt and her hair in a ponytail everyday. Cheerleader. After her shift she came through my line with her usual two large bottles of Chardonnay. Chardonnay with hydrocodone. How the hell is she NOT in a coma?
ME: So when were you born?
CAKE EYES: I was born in 1955.
ME: Ah, you were a teen in the 70s. Did you wear bell bottoms?
CAKE EYES: Oh yeah, bell bottoms and flower power! Woo! [I handed her receipt and she walked off]
I was concerned for Cake Eyes but I was also glad that we were getting along better. I'm so glad that drugs and 70s fashion have allowed us to bond.
More New Rules
Roz came up to me to share the new attendance policy with me, which was probably inspired by me.
ROZ: New attendance rule. If you're late 8 times, you get an instant final warning. One more tardy after that? Your employment will be terminated.
ME: 8 times? Sheesh.
ROZ: If this was a rule before now, you would be in trouble.
True. I really should try to make it to work on time. The only fishy thing was, I never heard Roz share this new rule with anyone else. I also didn't have to sign anything indicating that I am aware of the new rule. Maybe they really just wanted me to show up on time and they were sending higher ups to scare me with more strict fake rules. Cute.
A Word of Advice:
Don't joke about cancer with the elderly.
ME: Hi! How is your morning going?
OLD LADY: Lovely! How about yours?
ME: Mine is great too! I got up early and walked the dogs. The weather is so nice before the sun comes up.
OLD LADY: I agree.
ME: It's nice to be outdoors without worrying that I going to get skin cancer. [I laughed]
She stopped talking to me. I felt like an ass. What if she had skin cancer? Her parents? Her friends? Stupid Miranda.
Update: Ryan and Sally Spec
Sally Spec came in with makeup on! She never wears make up. She has the kind of clean pretty face that doesn't need makeup.
ME: Your makeup looks nice!
SALLY: Yeah, Ryan (her boyfriend, our head cashier) has to work a 12 hour shift today. He is so tired already from working so much that I knew he would be in a bad mood, so I decided to look nice. I made his lunch and I baked him cookies.
ME: Girlfriend of the year!
SALLY: Yeah, I like him.
I watched whenever Sally and Ryan were talking by themselves. I saw Ryan smiling at Sally like he thinks she is the best girl ever. They are sweet.
Old Lady #12
An old lady bought groceries from my line and walked off to her car with her cart after checking out. A minute later she ran back in holding a bag of carrots.
OLD LADY: I'm so sorry dear. I almost stole these. Whew!
ME: A dollar of carrots? You crook!
OLD LADY: If ever go to jail, I'm going to go for a real reason.
Richard Gere: Part Three
Copycat went on break and she came through my line to buy some food. Every time Copycat buys things from my register, she greets me the exact same way even if she greeted me the same way three times that day so far.
COPYCAT: Hi. How are you doing today?
ME: You already greeted me that way. Greet me another way.
COPYCAT: Okay. [she thought for a while and nervously laughed] I don't know!
ME: You could say, "Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?"
COPYCAT: Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?
ME: Target! Can you believe it?
COPYCAT: Wow. I like it.
ME: Do you shop at Target?
COPYCAT: Sometimes I do with my sister.
That's when, behind Copycat's head, I saw Richard Gere walk in with basket in hand. I wanted to vomit. I finished my transaction with Copycat and timed out when exactly this sex addict-cheater-jerk would walk through my line. He is on a juicing diet so it wouldn't take him more than five minutes to gather whatever vegetables he needed. I waited three minutes and then I hid in the front office. Ryan came by.
RYAN: What are you doing?
ME: I'm hiding from someone.
RYAN: Who?
ME: This guy who cheated on one of my friends by soliciting sex to strangers, he is trying find out how my friend is doing through me and the very sight of him makes me want to vomit.
The manager-on-duty, named Jay, walked in.
JAY: What are you doing?
RYAN: She is hiding from someone.
JAY: Do we need to beat someone up?
I considered it.
ME: No. He needs to be paid no attention. I'm going to keep hiding.
I peaked out of the door. Richard Gere was in Crazy Red Head Vegan's line. I'm sure he was charming her in some way. Blech. I continued to hide. A minute later I looked and noticed he had left CRV's line. The coast was clear. I walked out of the office at the same time I noticed Richard Gere walking back to CRV's register. He had forgotten something. "Oh shit!" I thought and I broke into a sprint, running into the kitchen 20 feet to the left. I remained there for several minutes. There was no way Richard Gere would have missed seeing me running away at the sight of him. I might as well have stayed at my register and told him to his face that I don't want to talk to him...but this works too.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Day Thirty Six
First Written Warning
Upon arrival I was notified that I had received my first warning. I had to sign and confirm that I had received this warning because my till was $10 over the previous day. This means someone did not get their change back. I felt bad about that. My first verbal warning was a money issue as well. Money issues. I am yet to be warned or reprimanded officially for being late...more than 30 times.
Observation
Whenever big grocery stores have giant sales, Hawaiian decor is always involved. Every time. The employees wear flowered leis and palm trees go up everywhere. Who started this trend anyway? Do sales whisk us away to a wonderful place where we have not a care in the world? No. Does anyone ever end up saving enough for a Hawaiian vacation? No. Yet, the bright colors and fake ocean sounds somehow make us all of a sudden covet this lower priced thing we don't need. Only in America. Just an observation.
Mad Kathy and Buffalo Lady
Buffalo Lady came into the my checkout line. The store wasn't very busy so I was happy to give her all of the attention in the world. The cashier next to me, a cool older lady named Kathy, joined in the conversation as well. Buffalo Lady spoke exuberantly, again seamlessly weaving through unrelated topics like depression drugs (she takes Cymbalta), people who love to climb like this guy named Chad (that she knows), social mixers at brain injury conferences, roller coasters and cat sitters. I am sure I am leaving something out. All we did was smile and nod, egging her on to keep talking. Eventually more customers came along so that brought Buffalo Lady's senseless monologue to an end. We said our goodbyes and Buffalo Lady skipped along happy as a clam. Kathy then turned to me.
KATHY: She reminds me of when I used to take acid. [she smiled]
MIRANDA: [I laughed] Acid?
KATHY: No, I'm kidding. I never took acid. I took amphetamines. [she walked away to help a customer]
Stingwich: Day Three
The same two suspects from yesterday came to work today. Tomorrow we all get paid, so maybe they are out of money and a little hungry. I worked early and decided to leave the sandwich in the fridge. Maybeit would disappear by the next day. I'm crossed my fingers.
Update: Jacob
Jacob walked up to me when things weren't busy. He sang me this song:
He told me this is our song now. I think I'm officially Jacob's work hag. I love about gay boys. If you're looking for someone to dance and sing with they are always down. They are just happy and a joy to be around. You can't say that about everybody. Jacob worked at the register across from me today, which put me in a good mood until this one customer came into his line. She was fine until Jake asked her how she was doing that day.
WOMAN: I am just great! Are you going to Chick Fil-A today? That's where I'm going!
Jacob went silent. Today was "Chick Fil-A Appreciation Day." Loads of people would file into Chick Fil-A today to support a company that was openly against same sex marriage. I looked at Jacob's face. He was hurt. He didn't say a word to her until he handed her a receipt.
JACOB: Have a nice day.
Jacob frowned at me then looked down. I was enraged. A grocery store is not a place for politics. It is a place where people of all beliefs, backgrounds and orientations should be able to walk into to fulfill a basic need in life: to feed oneself. It just so happens to be a very HUGE thing we all have in common. Grocery stores, in my mind, celebrate what we have in common. Jacob was kind to that woman even though I bet he didn't want to be. I wanted to grab that woman by the hair and lead her out of the store before I kicked her out on her ass as I would scream, "Keep your Fox News bullshit at home, heifer!"
Alas, I did no such thing. I looked at Jacob.
ME: You okay?
JACOB: No.
ME: Did she say she is going to Chick Fil-A?
JACOB: Yeah.
ME: Then she'll die soon. You can marry who you want after that. It wont be long.
He smiled. That was all I needed to see.
Update: Heartless Lucy
I found Lucy writing a letter. She told me it was her two week notice. I have never heard of anyone handwriting a two week notice. Apparently the manager said that handwritten letters are okay. Lucy told me she hated this job and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I usually can't stant hearing Lucy talk, but I asked her why she hated her cashier job so much. She said it didn't pay much and she was always tired. She was moving north to Denton, TX so she could be closer to school and the drive would be too much. I then asked her about her dog she was giving up. She found it a home, thank goodness. Hopefully the new owner would take much better care of this puppy than she did. That was the only reason I chatted up with Lucy, to make sure the dog was okay. I couldn't care less about her complaints and I can't say I'm sad that she is leaving.
Old Lady #11
I was hungry and kind of tired by the time this old lady came into my line. As I packed her groceries her bottle of wine slipped out of my hand and fell into the bag, slamming against the counter. The boom caused me to shout at the old lady.
ME: OH MY GOD!
OLD LADY: [covering her ears] Oh!
ME: I am so so so sorry! I didn't mean to yell. That just startled me and woke me up!
OLD LADY: Oh I understand! I wish I had something to wake me up like that on my last hand of bridge!
I stopped bagging to laugh. Who else would say something like that but an old lady?
Grumpy Gill
Grumpy Gill was the one who hired me to be a cashier. He was very personable when I met him. He seemed like he loved his job, like he loved being a manager and that he really believed in the company. I like working for people like that. Somehow I felt that the only person I was truly letting down was Gill. I felt like every tardy made him more and more disappointed in me. No matter how many times I would smile at him and say hello, he never genuinely smiled back. I knew that he knew I could do better. I did like this job and I would show up on time if they weren't so lenient.
Today was different though. Grumpy Gill walked up to my line to help bag groceries. He smiled at me and said hello! He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was great! He said, "Great!" This was so huge. Gill had not smiled at me in a month. I had no idea what made him so happy at that moment, but I was glad he had some joy. He is usually so super serious. I decided from then on that I would make more honest attempts to try to care to be on time. Gill's smiles are rare but so wonderful to see. The effort to be more punctual would be worth another one of those smiles.
Upon arrival I was notified that I had received my first warning. I had to sign and confirm that I had received this warning because my till was $10 over the previous day. This means someone did not get their change back. I felt bad about that. My first verbal warning was a money issue as well. Money issues. I am yet to be warned or reprimanded officially for being late...more than 30 times.
Observation
Whenever big grocery stores have giant sales, Hawaiian decor is always involved. Every time. The employees wear flowered leis and palm trees go up everywhere. Who started this trend anyway? Do sales whisk us away to a wonderful place where we have not a care in the world? No. Does anyone ever end up saving enough for a Hawaiian vacation? No. Yet, the bright colors and fake ocean sounds somehow make us all of a sudden covet this lower priced thing we don't need. Only in America. Just an observation.
Mad Kathy and Buffalo Lady
Buffalo Lady came into the my checkout line. The store wasn't very busy so I was happy to give her all of the attention in the world. The cashier next to me, a cool older lady named Kathy, joined in the conversation as well. Buffalo Lady spoke exuberantly, again seamlessly weaving through unrelated topics like depression drugs (she takes Cymbalta), people who love to climb like this guy named Chad (that she knows), social mixers at brain injury conferences, roller coasters and cat sitters. I am sure I am leaving something out. All we did was smile and nod, egging her on to keep talking. Eventually more customers came along so that brought Buffalo Lady's senseless monologue to an end. We said our goodbyes and Buffalo Lady skipped along happy as a clam. Kathy then turned to me.
KATHY: She reminds me of when I used to take acid. [she smiled]
MIRANDA: [I laughed] Acid?
KATHY: No, I'm kidding. I never took acid. I took amphetamines. [she walked away to help a customer]
Stingwich: Day Three
The same two suspects from yesterday came to work today. Tomorrow we all get paid, so maybe they are out of money and a little hungry. I worked early and decided to leave the sandwich in the fridge. Maybeit would disappear by the next day. I'm crossed my fingers.
Update: Jacob
Jacob walked up to me when things weren't busy. He sang me this song:
He told me this is our song now. I think I'm officially Jacob's work hag. I love about gay boys. If you're looking for someone to dance and sing with they are always down. They are just happy and a joy to be around. You can't say that about everybody. Jacob worked at the register across from me today, which put me in a good mood until this one customer came into his line. She was fine until Jake asked her how she was doing that day.
WOMAN: I am just great! Are you going to Chick Fil-A today? That's where I'm going!
Jacob went silent. Today was "Chick Fil-A Appreciation Day." Loads of people would file into Chick Fil-A today to support a company that was openly against same sex marriage. I looked at Jacob's face. He was hurt. He didn't say a word to her until he handed her a receipt.
JACOB: Have a nice day.
Jacob frowned at me then looked down. I was enraged. A grocery store is not a place for politics. It is a place where people of all beliefs, backgrounds and orientations should be able to walk into to fulfill a basic need in life: to feed oneself. It just so happens to be a very HUGE thing we all have in common. Grocery stores, in my mind, celebrate what we have in common. Jacob was kind to that woman even though I bet he didn't want to be. I wanted to grab that woman by the hair and lead her out of the store before I kicked her out on her ass as I would scream, "Keep your Fox News bullshit at home, heifer!"
Alas, I did no such thing. I looked at Jacob.
ME: You okay?
JACOB: No.
ME: Did she say she is going to Chick Fil-A?
JACOB: Yeah.
ME: Then she'll die soon. You can marry who you want after that. It wont be long.
He smiled. That was all I needed to see.
Update: Heartless Lucy
I found Lucy writing a letter. She told me it was her two week notice. I have never heard of anyone handwriting a two week notice. Apparently the manager said that handwritten letters are okay. Lucy told me she hated this job and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I usually can't stant hearing Lucy talk, but I asked her why she hated her cashier job so much. She said it didn't pay much and she was always tired. She was moving north to Denton, TX so she could be closer to school and the drive would be too much. I then asked her about her dog she was giving up. She found it a home, thank goodness. Hopefully the new owner would take much better care of this puppy than she did. That was the only reason I chatted up with Lucy, to make sure the dog was okay. I couldn't care less about her complaints and I can't say I'm sad that she is leaving.
Old Lady #11
I was hungry and kind of tired by the time this old lady came into my line. As I packed her groceries her bottle of wine slipped out of my hand and fell into the bag, slamming against the counter. The boom caused me to shout at the old lady.
ME: OH MY GOD!
OLD LADY: [covering her ears] Oh!
ME: I am so so so sorry! I didn't mean to yell. That just startled me and woke me up!
OLD LADY: Oh I understand! I wish I had something to wake me up like that on my last hand of bridge!
I stopped bagging to laugh. Who else would say something like that but an old lady?
Grumpy Gill
Grumpy Gill was the one who hired me to be a cashier. He was very personable when I met him. He seemed like he loved his job, like he loved being a manager and that he really believed in the company. I like working for people like that. Somehow I felt that the only person I was truly letting down was Gill. I felt like every tardy made him more and more disappointed in me. No matter how many times I would smile at him and say hello, he never genuinely smiled back. I knew that he knew I could do better. I did like this job and I would show up on time if they weren't so lenient.
Today was different though. Grumpy Gill walked up to my line to help bag groceries. He smiled at me and said hello! He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was great! He said, "Great!" This was so huge. Gill had not smiled at me in a month. I had no idea what made him so happy at that moment, but I was glad he had some joy. He is usually so super serious. I decided from then on that I would make more honest attempts to try to care to be on time. Gill's smiles are rare but so wonderful to see. The effort to be more punctual would be worth another one of those smiles.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Day Thirty Four
New Rules
It had been a while since my behavior had inspired new rules to be enforced. As I walked up to my register at the beginning of my shift, Patti stopped me to let me know that there are new rules concerning cell phones at registers. Cell phones used to be allowed in our drawers or in our pockets but lately, employees (meaning me) have been checking texts and browsing the web at the register too much. Patti was so cute, she tried to open the employee manual and show me a highlighted sentence where cell phones are not permitted.
ME: Patti, you really don't have to do that.
PATTI: I was told I had to show everyone that line.
ME: Let's pretend you did.
PATTI: Now they are saying they will give you a written warning if you are caught with your cell phone at a register!
ME: Patti. If they fired me at this point they would be doing me a favor.
Patti laughed and dropped the manual on my register. I'm assuming this rule was enforced by one of the old ladies. Probably O.C.Daisy. Good for her, trying to take this job so seriously. I'll be sure to ruin her efforts.
Old Lady #9
ME: How are you today?
OLD LADY: I'm good as long as it doesn't rain before I get home.
ME: Is it going to rain today?
OLD LADY: My knees say it's going to rain.
ME: Your knees?
OLD LADY: Yes.
ME: It looks sunny outside. Are you sure your knees didn't mean sunny or partly cloudy?
OLD LADY: 100% chance of rain.
It rained that afternoon.
Update: Ryan
Ryan was one of the head cashiers today. He used to be in the army, which is a blessing and a curse. Boot camp and his super disciplined workout regimen gave him one of those fat-less muscle-y bodies that inspires a slack-jawed stare, even in an ugly green t-shirt. The downside to his being in the army is the way he lets everyone out on break. To Ryan, you are on break as soon as he says so. To Ryan, it is your fault if you kill your break time cleaning up your register before you go into the store or the employee's lounge. To Ryan, If you're on a 15 minute break, you start walking back at 13.5 minutes. To Ryan, lunches are 30 minutes and NO LESS. You will be paged if you are a second late.
I like Ryan, I really do. We usually laugh a lot and are pretty chummy but today when he walked over to me mid-sandwich to tell me my break was over, I couldn't help but chew slower, move slower and take a few extra seconds to stretch, slowly. Cashier jobs are hard on the back and even if you make your own lunch or snacks, the breaks never seem long enough. Not all of us have Apollo's belt to help us stand up for eight hours a day. My lunches lately began to seem more and more like 25 minutes and breaks were more like ten, so I made a point of announcing to Ryan what the clock on my phone says before I walk away.
ME: It's 3:40PM and I am going on my break now.
RYAN: It's actually 3:42 and your break started at 3:40.
ME: It's 3:40PM and my body officially went of break as of right now.
RYAN: Two minutes ago.
ME: I'll be back at 3:55, whatever that means to your watch.
When I came back, he said I was a minute late and I told him his watch is fast. Ryan is a hard working, punctual, ultra disciplined 20 year-old in the Army, I get it. I think it's so adorable that he wants to apply these qualities at his job. I'm sure this disciplinary business will get him somewhere someday, but for now I'll be here to patronize him every time he wants to shave a minute off my breaks.
Old Lady and Old Man #10
An elderly couple came into my line. The old man was in a motorized cart.
OLD MAN: Remember me? I was sitting over there watching you eat!
OLD LADY: Stop creeping the girl out.
OLD MAN: I was just waiting for you to finish shopping, she was eating over there where I was waiting. [he looks to me] She takes forever.
OLD LADY: Every time I thought I was done you told me to get something else!
OLD MAN: And you took a long time getting it!
ME: Cut it out kids or I will turn this car around!
They stopped, they laughed and they forgot one more thing, of course.
Credit Debbie
A little girl came into my line with a bunch of candy from the bulk section. After I gave her the total, she handed me a credit card.
ME: Did your mom or dad hand you this credit card to use here?
GIRL: [spoken with snoot] Actually it's MY credit card.
This girl looked no older than eight years old. I couldn't help but think this was a scene from Home Alone. She had a little bit of makeup on and was wearing a black t-shirt with "Lights, Camera, FABULOUS!" written in pink glitter on the front. Interesting. Maybe her parents are letting her play "adult" and putting a little bit of money on a prepaid card. Maybe this kid's parents are well to do and swiping a credit card is the most strenuous activity this girl will have to do until she grows old. Either way, where are this little kid's parents?
It had been a while since my behavior had inspired new rules to be enforced. As I walked up to my register at the beginning of my shift, Patti stopped me to let me know that there are new rules concerning cell phones at registers. Cell phones used to be allowed in our drawers or in our pockets but lately, employees (meaning me) have been checking texts and browsing the web at the register too much. Patti was so cute, she tried to open the employee manual and show me a highlighted sentence where cell phones are not permitted.
ME: Patti, you really don't have to do that.
PATTI: I was told I had to show everyone that line.
ME: Let's pretend you did.
PATTI: Now they are saying they will give you a written warning if you are caught with your cell phone at a register!
ME: Patti. If they fired me at this point they would be doing me a favor.
Patti laughed and dropped the manual on my register. I'm assuming this rule was enforced by one of the old ladies. Probably O.C.Daisy. Good for her, trying to take this job so seriously. I'll be sure to ruin her efforts.
Old Lady #9
ME: How are you today?
OLD LADY: I'm good as long as it doesn't rain before I get home.
ME: Is it going to rain today?
OLD LADY: My knees say it's going to rain.
ME: Your knees?
OLD LADY: Yes.
ME: It looks sunny outside. Are you sure your knees didn't mean sunny or partly cloudy?
OLD LADY: 100% chance of rain.
It rained that afternoon.
Update: Ryan
Ryan was one of the head cashiers today. He used to be in the army, which is a blessing and a curse. Boot camp and his super disciplined workout regimen gave him one of those fat-less muscle-y bodies that inspires a slack-jawed stare, even in an ugly green t-shirt. The downside to his being in the army is the way he lets everyone out on break. To Ryan, you are on break as soon as he says so. To Ryan, it is your fault if you kill your break time cleaning up your register before you go into the store or the employee's lounge. To Ryan, If you're on a 15 minute break, you start walking back at 13.5 minutes. To Ryan, lunches are 30 minutes and NO LESS. You will be paged if you are a second late.
I like Ryan, I really do. We usually laugh a lot and are pretty chummy but today when he walked over to me mid-sandwich to tell me my break was over, I couldn't help but chew slower, move slower and take a few extra seconds to stretch, slowly. Cashier jobs are hard on the back and even if you make your own lunch or snacks, the breaks never seem long enough. Not all of us have Apollo's belt to help us stand up for eight hours a day. My lunches lately began to seem more and more like 25 minutes and breaks were more like ten, so I made a point of announcing to Ryan what the clock on my phone says before I walk away.
ME: It's 3:40PM and I am going on my break now.
RYAN: It's actually 3:42 and your break started at 3:40.
ME: It's 3:40PM and my body officially went of break as of right now.
RYAN: Two minutes ago.
ME: I'll be back at 3:55, whatever that means to your watch.
When I came back, he said I was a minute late and I told him his watch is fast. Ryan is a hard working, punctual, ultra disciplined 20 year-old in the Army, I get it. I think it's so adorable that he wants to apply these qualities at his job. I'm sure this disciplinary business will get him somewhere someday, but for now I'll be here to patronize him every time he wants to shave a minute off my breaks.
Old Lady and Old Man #10
An elderly couple came into my line. The old man was in a motorized cart.
OLD MAN: Remember me? I was sitting over there watching you eat!
OLD LADY: Stop creeping the girl out.
OLD MAN: I was just waiting for you to finish shopping, she was eating over there where I was waiting. [he looks to me] She takes forever.
OLD LADY: Every time I thought I was done you told me to get something else!
OLD MAN: And you took a long time getting it!
ME: Cut it out kids or I will turn this car around!
They stopped, they laughed and they forgot one more thing, of course.
Credit Debbie
A little girl came into my line with a bunch of candy from the bulk section. After I gave her the total, she handed me a credit card.
ME: Did your mom or dad hand you this credit card to use here?
GIRL: [spoken with snoot] Actually it's MY credit card.
This girl looked no older than eight years old. I couldn't help but think this was a scene from Home Alone. She had a little bit of makeup on and was wearing a black t-shirt with "Lights, Camera, FABULOUS!" written in pink glitter on the front. Interesting. Maybe her parents are letting her play "adult" and putting a little bit of money on a prepaid card. Maybe this kid's parents are well to do and swiping a credit card is the most strenuous activity this girl will have to do until she grows old. Either way, where are this little kid's parents?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Day Thirty
Old Lady # 8
A sweet old lady walked into my check out lane with her husband. As the husband unloaded groceries the old lady asked me how my morning was going. I replied, "So far, so good." I told her how had woken up early, walked the dogs, harvested some tomatoes, ate a good breakfast, did some chores and did a little bit of singing before coming to work.
OLD LADY: [in a gritty voice] Singing?! I used to love singing. I loved it. What voice are you?
ME: Believe it or not, [I said in my low voice] I am a soprano.
OLD LADY: Really! I was an alto. I was in my school's glee club and I would sing everywhere I go. Everywhere. It would drive him nuts. [pointing at husband]
ME: Do you still sing anywhere?
OLD LADY: I sang for a little bit in church, but it didn't last too long. I ruined my voice. I had to quit from smoking too much. [she then gave me a stern look] Do you smoke?
ME: No.
OLD LADY: [pointing her finger at my face] Good. Don't do it. Don't even start. You'll ruin your voice.
I felt bad for the old lady. When she talked about how she used to sing, it was with the bittersweet affection one would have when speaking of a lost love. Her voice, filled with regret, sounded like sandpaper being rubber against wood. I do have a couple of singer friends who smoke that are currently doing alright, so I wondered if this old lady just smoked several packs a day. Maybe to the point of almost eating the cigarettes? I heeded her warning, but I am also allergic to cigarette smoke so knew this would not be a problem for me. The couple paid for their groceries but before she left I had to ask this lady one last question.
ME: What was your favorite song to sing? [I handed her the receipt]
OLD LADY: [she smiled from the fond memory of her response] The Hallelujah Chorus. [taking the receipt and squeezing my hand] Have a wonderful day.
Buffalo Lady
It was busy for a moment in the store so my line was backed up. While checking out a customer, I heard a lady down my line talking to a girl in front of her. The string of enthusiastically told, unrelated conversational topics was unmistakable. I looked up to see Buffalo Lady, smiling as usual. I kept an eye on the teenage girl in front of her, praying that she would be kind and thankfully she was. Eventually it was Buffalo Lady's turn to check out. I was totally ready for this.
BUFFALO LADY: Hellllllllo!!! You know, I once met a lady who the most beautiful long black hair. I asked her where she came from and she said that she came from [she paused for suspense, then with eyes wide open]...BANGLADESH!
ME: Ooh! Isn't that something?
BUFFALO LADY: Let me tell YOU something. My cat loves to eat my dinner food. I don't know why I buy her food at all! [slamming counter for emphasis]
ME: My dad used to feed my cat rice with a little bit of beef curry when I was a kid.
BUFFALO LADY: Did you know that chili peppers are hotter when they are smaller? I bought the wrong size and I was crying when I ate it! I'm telling ya, freezers are only cold when the door stays closed!
ME: Ice is always cold. Go for the ice.
I handed her a receipt and she waved goodbye before leaving. I wish I could have let her keep talking. Maybe next time when it is less busy I will let Buffalo Lady cut loose.
Old Man #7
Another old couple walked into my line. Once it was time to pay, the old man, who looked like Carl Reiner, frowned at the credit card reader.
ME: Hit the green button if you want to pay with credit.
OLD MAN: I can't read it. I can't see anything on this darn thing! [He lightly backhanded the reader]
OLD LADY: Take off your sunglasses, dear.
Roz
Roz isn't a far cry from the Monster, Inc. character of the same name.
Roz is our bookkeeper. She stays in a locked office counting money all day long and wears a sweatshirt with the company logo on it. She smells funny and seems grouchy all of the time. Not necessarily mean, but grouchy. I used to call Roz every morning to find out when my shift started. I usually check the schedule for the next day whenever I countdown my till at the end of a shift but sometimes I forget to look. When that happens, I wake up at 7am and give Roz a call. At first, I thought she was cool with this. After once calling three days in a row for my schedule, Roz finally griped at me.
ROZ: Miranda! You need to copy down your stinkin' schedule! I don't have time for this.
Okay, damn...I made sure to never call Roz ever again after that. I copied my schedule or took pictures of it with my phone. Today, Roz stepped out of her office and looked at me.
ROZ: Miranda? You didn't call today. How did you find out when your shift started? [she smiled]
First of all, I wasn't aware that Roz could smile. Second, was Roz being funny?
MIRANDA: I took a wild guess?
ROZ: [she turned to Cake Eyes] Miranda didn't call today.
MIRANDA: I'm sorry, I will make sure I call you every morning from now on.
ROZ: [smile now gone] You better not.
Funny Roz went back into her office. Perhaps she is more than an old grouch. Maybe she has an interesting story to tell.
Stingwich Reconn. #2
I still had plans to take down the sandwich thief. I learned that the sandwich thief not only stole sandwiches but other food items as well. Everything except vegetables was at risk for being robbed from the break room fridge. I also had recently gathered information on a couple of suspects. One of them was one of the guys who worked in the bulk section. I had caught him a couple times reaching into the bulk bins to grab a quick snack, an activity that can only be best described as "grazing". Bulk Boy came into my line to purchase, of all things, a sandwich. I read the label: roast beef. So sandwich thief may have bought his sandwich today. Has he turned a new leaf? Has he reformed or do I have the wrong guy? There IS also Jay from the meat department. He never buys anything and never brings in a lunch. Jay also looks like he doesn't give a shit about some random person going hungry due to a stolen lunch. Just a hunch.
Update: Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really)
It had been weeks since I had seen Cute Guy so I asked Patti what the deal was. Apparently CG got called into the office for being late everyday. It wasn't just that, he always had a bad attitude and took really long breaks. Our general manager just tried to address this to him, not necessarily fire him for it. This is darn near the most difficult place to be fired from your job. CG didn't feel like being reprimanded, I suppose, because he decided to quit.
It is possible that CG is just a brat but I don't think that is what it is. I thought about how his mom died recently. He was living here in Texas because his mom lived here. His dad, the president of our company, lives on the West Coast. He has no reason or means to stay in Texas unless he is getting an allowance from his rich dad. I hope he is okay, wherever he is.
Restraint
A woman was unloading groceries on the belt and when she wasn't looking, her son picked up a carton of eggs out of the grocery cart.
WOMAN: [to her son] Put that back, NOW. You drop those eggs and I will MURDER you. Do you hear me? [the boy didn't put down the eggs, so she walked over and slapped her son on the arm, taking the eggs out of his hands]
I was so disgusted. Her son was mentally retarded. How could this woman be so acidic and say such a horrible, unloving thing? I didn't know what to say. Eventually that carton of eggs was in my hands. I wanted to hurl the eggs at this woman's face, but they made it into a plastic bag instead.
I gave her no eye contact for the rest of the transaction. Instead, I tried to smile at her son but he never looked at me, his eyes remained pointed to the floor. My heart sank. I wondered if his mom was always like this. Was this how she was raised? Did her mom or dad use death threats in lieu of simple commands? Was she mad that she was dealt this card? She was clearly not capable of learning the right things from having such a wonderful kid. I bet it is difficult, but there is no excuse for talking to a kid like that.
I didn't hand her the receipt, I just put it down somewhat within her reach. I didn't say goodbye or wish her a nice day. I just silently wished that she would become a better human being.
A sweet old lady walked into my check out lane with her husband. As the husband unloaded groceries the old lady asked me how my morning was going. I replied, "So far, so good." I told her how had woken up early, walked the dogs, harvested some tomatoes, ate a good breakfast, did some chores and did a little bit of singing before coming to work.
OLD LADY: [in a gritty voice] Singing?! I used to love singing. I loved it. What voice are you?
ME: Believe it or not, [I said in my low voice] I am a soprano.
OLD LADY: Really! I was an alto. I was in my school's glee club and I would sing everywhere I go. Everywhere. It would drive him nuts. [pointing at husband]
ME: Do you still sing anywhere?
OLD LADY: I sang for a little bit in church, but it didn't last too long. I ruined my voice. I had to quit from smoking too much. [she then gave me a stern look] Do you smoke?
ME: No.
OLD LADY: [pointing her finger at my face] Good. Don't do it. Don't even start. You'll ruin your voice.
I felt bad for the old lady. When she talked about how she used to sing, it was with the bittersweet affection one would have when speaking of a lost love. Her voice, filled with regret, sounded like sandpaper being rubber against wood. I do have a couple of singer friends who smoke that are currently doing alright, so I wondered if this old lady just smoked several packs a day. Maybe to the point of almost eating the cigarettes? I heeded her warning, but I am also allergic to cigarette smoke so knew this would not be a problem for me. The couple paid for their groceries but before she left I had to ask this lady one last question.
ME: What was your favorite song to sing? [I handed her the receipt]
OLD LADY: [she smiled from the fond memory of her response] The Hallelujah Chorus. [taking the receipt and squeezing my hand] Have a wonderful day.
Buffalo Lady
It was busy for a moment in the store so my line was backed up. While checking out a customer, I heard a lady down my line talking to a girl in front of her. The string of enthusiastically told, unrelated conversational topics was unmistakable. I looked up to see Buffalo Lady, smiling as usual. I kept an eye on the teenage girl in front of her, praying that she would be kind and thankfully she was. Eventually it was Buffalo Lady's turn to check out. I was totally ready for this.
BUFFALO LADY: Hellllllllo!!! You know, I once met a lady who the most beautiful long black hair. I asked her where she came from and she said that she came from [she paused for suspense, then with eyes wide open]...BANGLADESH!
ME: Ooh! Isn't that something?
BUFFALO LADY: Let me tell YOU something. My cat loves to eat my dinner food. I don't know why I buy her food at all! [slamming counter for emphasis]
ME: My dad used to feed my cat rice with a little bit of beef curry when I was a kid.
BUFFALO LADY: Did you know that chili peppers are hotter when they are smaller? I bought the wrong size and I was crying when I ate it! I'm telling ya, freezers are only cold when the door stays closed!
ME: Ice is always cold. Go for the ice.
I handed her a receipt and she waved goodbye before leaving. I wish I could have let her keep talking. Maybe next time when it is less busy I will let Buffalo Lady cut loose.
Old Man #7
Another old couple walked into my line. Once it was time to pay, the old man, who looked like Carl Reiner, frowned at the credit card reader.
ME: Hit the green button if you want to pay with credit.
OLD MAN: I can't read it. I can't see anything on this darn thing! [He lightly backhanded the reader]
OLD LADY: Take off your sunglasses, dear.
Roz
Roz isn't a far cry from the Monster, Inc. character of the same name.
Roz is our bookkeeper. She stays in a locked office counting money all day long and wears a sweatshirt with the company logo on it. She smells funny and seems grouchy all of the time. Not necessarily mean, but grouchy. I used to call Roz every morning to find out when my shift started. I usually check the schedule for the next day whenever I countdown my till at the end of a shift but sometimes I forget to look. When that happens, I wake up at 7am and give Roz a call. At first, I thought she was cool with this. After once calling three days in a row for my schedule, Roz finally griped at me.
ROZ: Miranda! You need to copy down your stinkin' schedule! I don't have time for this.
Okay, damn...I made sure to never call Roz ever again after that. I copied my schedule or took pictures of it with my phone. Today, Roz stepped out of her office and looked at me.
ROZ: Miranda? You didn't call today. How did you find out when your shift started? [she smiled]
First of all, I wasn't aware that Roz could smile. Second, was Roz being funny?
MIRANDA: I took a wild guess?
ROZ: [she turned to Cake Eyes] Miranda didn't call today.
MIRANDA: I'm sorry, I will make sure I call you every morning from now on.
ROZ: [smile now gone] You better not.
Funny Roz went back into her office. Perhaps she is more than an old grouch. Maybe she has an interesting story to tell.
Stingwich Reconn. #2
I still had plans to take down the sandwich thief. I learned that the sandwich thief not only stole sandwiches but other food items as well. Everything except vegetables was at risk for being robbed from the break room fridge. I also had recently gathered information on a couple of suspects. One of them was one of the guys who worked in the bulk section. I had caught him a couple times reaching into the bulk bins to grab a quick snack, an activity that can only be best described as "grazing". Bulk Boy came into my line to purchase, of all things, a sandwich. I read the label: roast beef. So sandwich thief may have bought his sandwich today. Has he turned a new leaf? Has he reformed or do I have the wrong guy? There IS also Jay from the meat department. He never buys anything and never brings in a lunch. Jay also looks like he doesn't give a shit about some random person going hungry due to a stolen lunch. Just a hunch.
Update: Cute Guy, Maybe (Not Really)
It had been weeks since I had seen Cute Guy so I asked Patti what the deal was. Apparently CG got called into the office for being late everyday. It wasn't just that, he always had a bad attitude and took really long breaks. Our general manager just tried to address this to him, not necessarily fire him for it. This is darn near the most difficult place to be fired from your job. CG didn't feel like being reprimanded, I suppose, because he decided to quit.
It is possible that CG is just a brat but I don't think that is what it is. I thought about how his mom died recently. He was living here in Texas because his mom lived here. His dad, the president of our company, lives on the West Coast. He has no reason or means to stay in Texas unless he is getting an allowance from his rich dad. I hope he is okay, wherever he is.
Restraint
A woman was unloading groceries on the belt and when she wasn't looking, her son picked up a carton of eggs out of the grocery cart.
WOMAN: [to her son] Put that back, NOW. You drop those eggs and I will MURDER you. Do you hear me? [the boy didn't put down the eggs, so she walked over and slapped her son on the arm, taking the eggs out of his hands]
I was so disgusted. Her son was mentally retarded. How could this woman be so acidic and say such a horrible, unloving thing? I didn't know what to say. Eventually that carton of eggs was in my hands. I wanted to hurl the eggs at this woman's face, but they made it into a plastic bag instead.
I gave her no eye contact for the rest of the transaction. Instead, I tried to smile at her son but he never looked at me, his eyes remained pointed to the floor. My heart sank. I wondered if his mom was always like this. Was this how she was raised? Did her mom or dad use death threats in lieu of simple commands? Was she mad that she was dealt this card? She was clearly not capable of learning the right things from having such a wonderful kid. I bet it is difficult, but there is no excuse for talking to a kid like that.
I didn't hand her the receipt, I just put it down somewhat within her reach. I didn't say goodbye or wish her a nice day. I just silently wished that she would become a better human being.
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.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Day Seventeen
Everyone was pleasant today. So weird. There were three new people at the store: a new manager, a new cashier and a new vitamin girl. I like meeting new people. They always change the environment, making things more interesting (for me, anyway). Pleasantries never usually make for an interesting blog entry, except today, thankfully, there was a never ending flow of the elderly. A parade, you might say. Constant entertainment.
Old Lady #4
ME: [after ringing in a bottle of wine] May I see your ID, ma'am?
OLD LADY: You need to get your eyes checked.
Old Man #5
OLD MAN: [swiping his card while I rang in groceries] Why does this keep asking me to swipe my card over and over?
ME: Oh, I'll let you know when you need to look at that screen.
OLD MAN: Okay.
ME: [as I rang in the last item] ...okay we are almost done, aaaaand BAM!
OLD MAN: [looking on the credit card reader screen] Bam? Where does it say 'bam"?
ME: Oh. I said "bam," meaning now you can follow the instructions on that screen.
OLD: Ohhhh. I was looking for a "bam."
Old Lady #5
After placing all of her groceries on the belt, this old lady picked up a bag of cherries and inspected it.
.
OLD LADY: I don't think I'm going to get these cherries.
ME: Are they rotten or have you changed your mind about buying them?
OLD LADY: There's a hole in this bag.
I looked at the bag expecting to see a big hole in it. The holes in the bag were vent holes.
ME: Ma'am, this is a vented bag. The holes are there on purpose.
OLD LADY: The cherries are creeping out! I don't like it!
ME: [pause] You're right. I'll take these back.
Old Lady #6
A pair of old ladies walked up in my line. Whenever this happens I provide a different greeting than the usual.
ME: Hello ladies! Have you been staying out of trouble?
[both of them giggle]
OLD LADY: [with a wagging finger] Now, you can't have any fun unless you cause a little trouble.
Ain't that the truth?
Old Man #6
I was on my 30 minute lunch break. I grabbed a snack, then I sat down at a small 2'x2' table in the deli area and I began to read a book. Within minutes, an elderly man walked up to my table using his cart as a walker. He looked tired.
OLD MAN: My knees are starting to hurt. I have to sit down.
ME: Oh sure, don't hurt yourself. How are you today?
OLD MAN: I'm alive (a common 'old man' response)
Out of twelve seats in the entire area, this man chose the seat caddy-corner to me. Thinking nothing of it, I continued to read my book, Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut.
OLD MAN: I'm pretty sure that book isn't about Wheaties.
ME: You would be right. [I laughed] The author mentions how the book is in no way affiliated with the General Mills cereal.
I had to think for a minute. It took a while but I was able to locate the area of my brain that dealt with my childhood. Wheaties cereal would always have a photo of a famous athlete on the front of the box. I think I remember the athletes being in the commercials too. The slogan I remember best was, "You better eat your Wheaties." I remember Michael Jordan would say it to some kid on TV (and what kid in the late 80s and early 90s didn't want to grow up to be Michael Jordan?). I think at the time the "Breakfast of Champions" slogan was on its way out. I reminisced about that with the old man and we laughed. I continued to read for another ten minutes as he sat next to me. He eventually had to keep shopping.
OLD MAN: Well, if I don't get up now, I'll never get up.
ME: Do you need help getting up?
OLD MAN: I think I've got it, just give me a minute.
He sat up straight, his gaze fixed forward, gathering to will power to stand up. It took a minute, like he said. One of my managers, named Jay, was setting up a display nearby and he witnessed the old man next to me. After the old man left my manager walked up to me.
JAY: Do you know that man?
ME: Nope. I just met him.
JAY: And you let him sit next to you that whole time?
ME: Yup. Best date I have had in a while.
A Word of Advice:
Never, EVER, talk about hoarding in a grocery store. One woman brought up an episode of Hoarders. Apparently a daughter of a former grocery store owner made a faux grocery store in her house with shelves and shelves of decomposing food. My customer described it to me in such detail that I wanted to vomit on the spot. Look, I don't know anyone who is in love with food as much as I am. Not only is it inappropriate to talk about this nasty shit around other customers who are buying and consuming food, in my world it is a horrible crime to kill my appetite. I didn't eat for the rest of the night. I would have asked her to stop talking but speaking is hard when you are trying to keep food down.
Old Lady #4
ME: [after ringing in a bottle of wine] May I see your ID, ma'am?
OLD LADY: You need to get your eyes checked.
Old Man #5
OLD MAN: [swiping his card while I rang in groceries] Why does this keep asking me to swipe my card over and over?
ME: Oh, I'll let you know when you need to look at that screen.
OLD MAN: Okay.
ME: [as I rang in the last item] ...okay we are almost done, aaaaand BAM!
OLD MAN: [looking on the credit card reader screen] Bam? Where does it say 'bam"?
ME: Oh. I said "bam," meaning now you can follow the instructions on that screen.
OLD: Ohhhh. I was looking for a "bam."
Old Lady #5
After placing all of her groceries on the belt, this old lady picked up a bag of cherries and inspected it.
.
OLD LADY: I don't think I'm going to get these cherries.
ME: Are they rotten or have you changed your mind about buying them?
OLD LADY: There's a hole in this bag.
I looked at the bag expecting to see a big hole in it. The holes in the bag were vent holes.
ME: Ma'am, this is a vented bag. The holes are there on purpose.
OLD LADY: The cherries are creeping out! I don't like it!
ME: [pause] You're right. I'll take these back.
Old Lady #6
A pair of old ladies walked up in my line. Whenever this happens I provide a different greeting than the usual.
ME: Hello ladies! Have you been staying out of trouble?
[both of them giggle]
OLD LADY: [with a wagging finger] Now, you can't have any fun unless you cause a little trouble.
Ain't that the truth?
Old Man #6
I was on my 30 minute lunch break. I grabbed a snack, then I sat down at a small 2'x2' table in the deli area and I began to read a book. Within minutes, an elderly man walked up to my table using his cart as a walker. He looked tired.
OLD MAN: My knees are starting to hurt. I have to sit down.
ME: Oh sure, don't hurt yourself. How are you today?
OLD MAN: I'm alive (a common 'old man' response)
Out of twelve seats in the entire area, this man chose the seat caddy-corner to me. Thinking nothing of it, I continued to read my book, Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut.
OLD MAN: I'm pretty sure that book isn't about Wheaties.
ME: You would be right. [I laughed] The author mentions how the book is in no way affiliated with the General Mills cereal.
I had to think for a minute. It took a while but I was able to locate the area of my brain that dealt with my childhood. Wheaties cereal would always have a photo of a famous athlete on the front of the box. I think I remember the athletes being in the commercials too. The slogan I remember best was, "You better eat your Wheaties." I remember Michael Jordan would say it to some kid on TV (and what kid in the late 80s and early 90s didn't want to grow up to be Michael Jordan?). I think at the time the "Breakfast of Champions" slogan was on its way out. I reminisced about that with the old man and we laughed. I continued to read for another ten minutes as he sat next to me. He eventually had to keep shopping.
OLD MAN: Well, if I don't get up now, I'll never get up.
ME: Do you need help getting up?
OLD MAN: I think I've got it, just give me a minute.
He sat up straight, his gaze fixed forward, gathering to will power to stand up. It took a minute, like he said. One of my managers, named Jay, was setting up a display nearby and he witnessed the old man next to me. After the old man left my manager walked up to me.
JAY: Do you know that man?
ME: Nope. I just met him.
JAY: And you let him sit next to you that whole time?
ME: Yup. Best date I have had in a while.
A Word of Advice:
Never, EVER, talk about hoarding in a grocery store. One woman brought up an episode of Hoarders. Apparently a daughter of a former grocery store owner made a faux grocery store in her house with shelves and shelves of decomposing food. My customer described it to me in such detail that I wanted to vomit on the spot. Look, I don't know anyone who is in love with food as much as I am. Not only is it inappropriate to talk about this nasty shit around other customers who are buying and consuming food, in my world it is a horrible crime to kill my appetite. I didn't eat for the rest of the night. I would have asked her to stop talking but speaking is hard when you are trying to keep food down.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Day Fourteen
I have been working the last 7 out of 8 days and I am drained. I anticipated many mistakes being made and I lacked the energy to pretend to be friendly. I needed some really friendly and positive (or at least interesting) customers to wake me up.
Rancid Nancy
Rancid Nancy could be any woman who chose to wear as much musky perfume as this woman chose to. I refused to inhale and I had nowhere to turn without looking incredibly rude. I turned to look at the groceries Nancy was purchasing and I saw a fresh basil plant. HALLELUJAH! I grabbed the plant and dug my nose into the leaves to take the largest breath I could.
ME: Mm...I love the smell of fresh basil.
NANCY: I know! Isn't it the best?
It certainly was at the moment. I took in one more breath then I stationed the plant as close to my face as possible so I could breathe when I needed to. I held my breath in most of the time. This lady was sweet and super nice but HOLY HELL she wore too much perfume, so much that it reminded me of my time at the Indiana co-op in the hottest part of the summer. Farmers would come in during the day to drop off produce, probably right after they picked the crop and swept the cow dung out of the shed. They smelled like butt sweat. I couldn't breath and I dealt with it because these local farmers were doing saintly work. The difference is, this lady did not have to wear that perfume, or that much of it for that matter. I guessed that she didn't have any good friends in her life that are honest with her about things like scent. I have a handful of friends whose sole purpose in my life is to keep me from making dreadful social mistakes like cutting bangs, wearing t-shirts in public and dating closeted gay guys. Those are your real friends.
Old Lady #3
An old lady walks up fully clad in electric blue workout gear and a sun visor.
ME: Are you about to work out?
OLD LADY: Oh no, I just finished.
ME: Bench pressing 150?
OLD LADY: [cute old lady laugh] No way! I just finished playing a game of pickleball.
ME: What is pickleball?
OLD LADY: It's like badminton and table tennis thrown together in a pot and you play it with a wiffle ball.
ME: Huh.
OLD LADY: [points her finger at me] It's no whimpy game!
I went home and searched "pickleball" on Google. By George, it IS a real sport and it has an association. A sport is not a sport without an association, apparently. That old lady was saucy. I bet when she's on the court she throws down and makes a face like this when she scores a point:
Doogie Howser
This one little boy helped his mom put groceries on the belt. I love seeing kids help their moms.
ME: Are you enjoying your summer vacation?
BOY: Yes.
ME: Do you miss your teachers?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you ready to go back to school?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you serious? Kids never say that! What grade are you going to be in?
BOY: 3rd grade. If there was NO vacation, then I would be in a higher grade sooner. [he makes an exaggerated forwarding gesture]
ME: Then you would be in college in around 6 years?
BOY: Yes.
I laughed. Then I turned to him mom.
ME: You never have to tell him to do his homework, huh?
MOM: Nope. He is super smart. We never have to tell him to study because he wants to do it.
ME: Wow. [to the boy] What is your favorite subject?
BOY: Science. I like gravity.
I told the boy's mom she should take her son to the space center in Houston because there is a room that has zero gravity. I hope this kid gets to go. He would enjoy that so much.
Random Thought:
The songs, "My Boyfriend's Back" and "It's My Party," need to be removed from the grocery store musical canon. The out of tune scream singing makes me very angry and when I am tired "angry" has the potential to turn into "homicidal." If it weren't for the Rolling Stones' following rock song I'm sure I would have killed someone.
Update: Ghost Protocol
He returned to buy more groceries! Is this guy a regular? Ghost Protocol makes me feel like a gushing teenager moron. He is just so nice to look at. He chose to go through the shortest line (not my line at the time). "Damn," I thought. I need to find a flaw in this guy so I can stop senselessly crushing on him like an idiot every time he walks in.
Update: Elvira
I overheard a conversation between Elvira and another female coworker.
ELVIRA: You don't look like a dead person today.
FEM. CO-WORKER: I wanted to make sure you saw.
ELVIRA: Yes, it looks good.
ME: [to co-worker] What? Dead person?
FEM. CO-WORKER: Elvira told me that I look like a dead person when I don't wear makeup. I don't usually wear makeup here because it takes up too much time and I don't care, so Elvira tells me I look dead. She is fucking hilarious.
This, believe it or not, is Elvira being cool. Later in the day I would go over to help her bag groceries. She actually let me help her a little today!! Miracle of MIRACLES!!! Toward the end of her shift she walked over to me for the first time to talk to me. She asked me if I knew how to cook tofu. I told her I never tried but I took a stab at how one might cook it. I told her there are probably a bunch of recipes online, but she kept telling me that she wasn't interested in an online recipe. She wanted ME to buy tofu and cook it myself and then tell her how to cook it. She heard me once tell a customer how to make a vegetable curry. I think maybe Elvira sees me as some kind of cooking genius. I'll take it. I'm going to learn how to cook tofu.
Rancid Nancy
Rancid Nancy could be any woman who chose to wear as much musky perfume as this woman chose to. I refused to inhale and I had nowhere to turn without looking incredibly rude. I turned to look at the groceries Nancy was purchasing and I saw a fresh basil plant. HALLELUJAH! I grabbed the plant and dug my nose into the leaves to take the largest breath I could.
ME: Mm...I love the smell of fresh basil.
NANCY: I know! Isn't it the best?
It certainly was at the moment. I took in one more breath then I stationed the plant as close to my face as possible so I could breathe when I needed to. I held my breath in most of the time. This lady was sweet and super nice but HOLY HELL she wore too much perfume, so much that it reminded me of my time at the Indiana co-op in the hottest part of the summer. Farmers would come in during the day to drop off produce, probably right after they picked the crop and swept the cow dung out of the shed. They smelled like butt sweat. I couldn't breath and I dealt with it because these local farmers were doing saintly work. The difference is, this lady did not have to wear that perfume, or that much of it for that matter. I guessed that she didn't have any good friends in her life that are honest with her about things like scent. I have a handful of friends whose sole purpose in my life is to keep me from making dreadful social mistakes like cutting bangs, wearing t-shirts in public and dating closeted gay guys. Those are your real friends.
Old Lady #3
An old lady walks up fully clad in electric blue workout gear and a sun visor.
ME: Are you about to work out?
OLD LADY: Oh no, I just finished.
ME: Bench pressing 150?
OLD LADY: [cute old lady laugh] No way! I just finished playing a game of pickleball.
ME: What is pickleball?
OLD LADY: It's like badminton and table tennis thrown together in a pot and you play it with a wiffle ball.
ME: Huh.
OLD LADY: [points her finger at me] It's no whimpy game!
I went home and searched "pickleball" on Google. By George, it IS a real sport and it has an association. A sport is not a sport without an association, apparently. That old lady was saucy. I bet when she's on the court she throws down and makes a face like this when she scores a point:
Doogie Howser
This one little boy helped his mom put groceries on the belt. I love seeing kids help their moms.
ME: Are you enjoying your summer vacation?
BOY: Yes.
ME: Do you miss your teachers?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you ready to go back to school?
BOY: [nods yes]
ME: Are you serious? Kids never say that! What grade are you going to be in?
BOY: 3rd grade. If there was NO vacation, then I would be in a higher grade sooner. [he makes an exaggerated forwarding gesture]
ME: Then you would be in college in around 6 years?
BOY: Yes.
I laughed. Then I turned to him mom.
ME: You never have to tell him to do his homework, huh?
MOM: Nope. He is super smart. We never have to tell him to study because he wants to do it.
ME: Wow. [to the boy] What is your favorite subject?
BOY: Science. I like gravity.
I told the boy's mom she should take her son to the space center in Houston because there is a room that has zero gravity. I hope this kid gets to go. He would enjoy that so much.
Random Thought:
The songs, "My Boyfriend's Back" and "It's My Party," need to be removed from the grocery store musical canon. The out of tune scream singing makes me very angry and when I am tired "angry" has the potential to turn into "homicidal." If it weren't for the Rolling Stones' following rock song I'm sure I would have killed someone.
Update: Ghost Protocol
He returned to buy more groceries! Is this guy a regular? Ghost Protocol makes me feel like a gushing teenager moron. He is just so nice to look at. He chose to go through the shortest line (not my line at the time). "Damn," I thought. I need to find a flaw in this guy so I can stop senselessly crushing on him like an idiot every time he walks in.
Update: Elvira
I overheard a conversation between Elvira and another female coworker.
ELVIRA: You don't look like a dead person today.
FEM. CO-WORKER: I wanted to make sure you saw.
ELVIRA: Yes, it looks good.
ME: [to co-worker] What? Dead person?
FEM. CO-WORKER: Elvira told me that I look like a dead person when I don't wear makeup. I don't usually wear makeup here because it takes up too much time and I don't care, so Elvira tells me I look dead. She is fucking hilarious.
This, believe it or not, is Elvira being cool. Later in the day I would go over to help her bag groceries. She actually let me help her a little today!! Miracle of MIRACLES!!! Toward the end of her shift she walked over to me for the first time to talk to me. She asked me if I knew how to cook tofu. I told her I never tried but I took a stab at how one might cook it. I told her there are probably a bunch of recipes online, but she kept telling me that she wasn't interested in an online recipe. She wanted ME to buy tofu and cook it myself and then tell her how to cook it. She heard me once tell a customer how to make a vegetable curry. I think maybe Elvira sees me as some kind of cooking genius. I'll take it. I'm going to learn how to cook tofu.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Day Thirteen
Old Lady #2
An old lady came through my line with a package of frozen diced onions.
OLD LADY: Do you think those onions will pass for hot dog condiments? It's for a party.
ME: I'm sure they could, just throw them in a saute pan and heat them up, I'm sure that will work.
OLD LADY: Good, because I have reached the age of non-preparation.
ME: [laughs] That you have, I don't blame you.
OLD LADY: I'm throwing a pool party at the retirement home.
ME: That's so nice of you!
OLD LADY: I told the ladies if you don't like swimming and you don't like hot dogs then don't come!
ME: Was that what you wrote on the invitation?
OLD LADY: Yup!
Crap Indian
I began to check out the groceries of a very unlikely pair, an Indian woman and a man who could be one of the Trailer Park Boys.
MAN: What language do you speak?
ME: English.
MAN: HA! What are your parents?
ME: My heritage is Indian.
MAN: What's the language? Can you speak it?
ME: The language is Malayalam. I only know a few phrases. My parents did want to teach me the language but they were one of the first generations to move here-
WOMAN: You don't need to learn your parent's language. You're in America.
Hold the phone. Did I just stumble upon the one Indian person who is even worse at being Indian than me? I was going to tell this couple that my parents were worried about my education here in the U.S. and they weren't sure if I would do well learning Malayalam first, so they spoke mostly English at home. I actually do want to learn Malayalam and I want to be able to hold a conversation with my relatives. This woman wasn't interested in what I had to say as she kept cutting me off mid-sentence. I did somehow get in that I can cook some of my mother's recipes and I make meals for my friends from time to time, that Indian food is good. She said her parents were from Bombay and that she used to eat the best north Indian food. Then the man attempted a joke about how he always gets plenty of Indian and he coughed out a sleazy laugh as the woman smacked his arm.
Gross.
Ghost Protocol
A man walked up to buy something. I didn't notice what he was buying because he looked like this:
Jeremy Renner: the smoking hot guy who pretended he was some aide but turned out to be a ridiculously sexy but emotionally tortured agent in the movie Ghost Protocol. Without going into much detail for how bad I have it for James Bond types, let me just say it was a joy to look at this guy. I asked him if people tell him he looks like Jeremy Renner. He said no, and that he didn't know who Jeremy Renner was. I told him that he should go home and Google image search "Jeremy Renner" (and be flattered). I kept talking to this guy just so I could keep shamelessly staring at him. I don't remember what I said and it doesn't even matter. I wouldn't bother making a move on this guy or any hot guy I meet here and I can explain why.
Do you remember that popular romantic comedy about the incredibly handsome male customer who fell for the quirky female cashier who wore an oversized t-shirt, no makeup and rang up groceries at his local market? I don't either. Most rom-coms are unrealistic to begin with, so the fact that this plot hasn't made it into the screenplay of even the shittiest romantic comedy speaks volumes about the likelihood of Ghost Protocol diggin' a girl like me. I could throw down the fact that I'm an A.B.D. doctoral student and that I'm going to be an adjunct professor at a college in the fall and a choral director at a nearby church, but I choose not to waste my breath. For the sake of this blog, I think the behavior of many customers is far more interesting when they believe I'm just a cashier.
Chode
There is an area of our store called the Bulk section. It's a neat little place where you can take as little or as much as you want of whatever item you choose. Once you scoop out how ever much you want of an item. You are supposed to write the PLU number of the item on a tag, so that the cashier who checks you out will be able to check you out faster. Without the code the cashier will have to look up the item in a giant book and it may take forever.
Now enters this guy.
ME: [after ringing in a few groceries, I pick up a trail mix] Sir, what is this?
MAN: It's a trail mix with nuts and berries-
ME: I can see what is in it. Do you know what the name of the trail mix is?
MAN: It is $2.99 per pound.
ME: I'm sure it is, but I need a four digit PLU code. [i begin to look up codes to about 6 different trail mixes this could be]
MAN: Do you want me to get it?
ME: That would be great.
MAN: [walks off and comes back with the code]
ME: [after ringing in more groceries, picks up another unmarked bulk item, chocolate covered something] This one should be easier to find in the book.
MAN: Are you new?
ME: No.
MAN: Because I have never had this problem before.
ME: I'm not new. We actually do need codes to ring in these items.
MAN: I've never had this problem before. Do you want me to help you get this code?
ME: Are these chocolate covered raisins? (a guess)
MAN: Yes! Exactly! (smiling like an asshole, like he just taught me something)
ME: [flipping through the book to find the code]
MAN: [patronizingly] Do you want me to help you?
ME: NO!!
Was this guy trying to make me angry on purpose? Congratulations asshole, mission accomplished. How is it that 99% of our customers understand the concept of writing down the highlighted PLU code and this one prick doesn't? There are signs for this all over the department. This actually made me quite mad, leaving me in a bad mood for an hour until I clocked out. My manager had never heard me utter so many curse words before. He said, "It's nice to meet the real Miranda."
The real Miranda? What is that supposed to mean? I'm not always a cursing rage monster. I like to think I am a nice, well mannered girl most of the time. I only shed my human form when someone is really asking for it, kind of like the Hulk.
An old lady came through my line with a package of frozen diced onions.
OLD LADY: Do you think those onions will pass for hot dog condiments? It's for a party.
ME: I'm sure they could, just throw them in a saute pan and heat them up, I'm sure that will work.
OLD LADY: Good, because I have reached the age of non-preparation.
ME: [laughs] That you have, I don't blame you.
OLD LADY: I'm throwing a pool party at the retirement home.
ME: That's so nice of you!
OLD LADY: I told the ladies if you don't like swimming and you don't like hot dogs then don't come!
ME: Was that what you wrote on the invitation?
OLD LADY: Yup!
Crap Indian
I began to check out the groceries of a very unlikely pair, an Indian woman and a man who could be one of the Trailer Park Boys.
MAN: What language do you speak?
ME: English.
MAN: HA! What are your parents?
ME: My heritage is Indian.
MAN: What's the language? Can you speak it?
ME: The language is Malayalam. I only know a few phrases. My parents did want to teach me the language but they were one of the first generations to move here-
WOMAN: You don't need to learn your parent's language. You're in America.
Hold the phone. Did I just stumble upon the one Indian person who is even worse at being Indian than me? I was going to tell this couple that my parents were worried about my education here in the U.S. and they weren't sure if I would do well learning Malayalam first, so they spoke mostly English at home. I actually do want to learn Malayalam and I want to be able to hold a conversation with my relatives. This woman wasn't interested in what I had to say as she kept cutting me off mid-sentence. I did somehow get in that I can cook some of my mother's recipes and I make meals for my friends from time to time, that Indian food is good. She said her parents were from Bombay and that she used to eat the best north Indian food. Then the man attempted a joke about how he always gets plenty of Indian and he coughed out a sleazy laugh as the woman smacked his arm.
Gross.
Ghost Protocol
A man walked up to buy something. I didn't notice what he was buying because he looked like this:
Jeremy Renner: the smoking hot guy who pretended he was some aide but turned out to be a ridiculously sexy but emotionally tortured agent in the movie Ghost Protocol. Without going into much detail for how bad I have it for James Bond types, let me just say it was a joy to look at this guy. I asked him if people tell him he looks like Jeremy Renner. He said no, and that he didn't know who Jeremy Renner was. I told him that he should go home and Google image search "Jeremy Renner" (and be flattered). I kept talking to this guy just so I could keep shamelessly staring at him. I don't remember what I said and it doesn't even matter. I wouldn't bother making a move on this guy or any hot guy I meet here and I can explain why.
Do you remember that popular romantic comedy about the incredibly handsome male customer who fell for the quirky female cashier who wore an oversized t-shirt, no makeup and rang up groceries at his local market? I don't either. Most rom-coms are unrealistic to begin with, so the fact that this plot hasn't made it into the screenplay of even the shittiest romantic comedy speaks volumes about the likelihood of Ghost Protocol diggin' a girl like me. I could throw down the fact that I'm an A.B.D. doctoral student and that I'm going to be an adjunct professor at a college in the fall and a choral director at a nearby church, but I choose not to waste my breath. For the sake of this blog, I think the behavior of many customers is far more interesting when they believe I'm just a cashier.
Chode
There is an area of our store called the Bulk section. It's a neat little place where you can take as little or as much as you want of whatever item you choose. Once you scoop out how ever much you want of an item. You are supposed to write the PLU number of the item on a tag, so that the cashier who checks you out will be able to check you out faster. Without the code the cashier will have to look up the item in a giant book and it may take forever.
Now enters this guy.
ME: [after ringing in a few groceries, I pick up a trail mix] Sir, what is this?
MAN: It's a trail mix with nuts and berries-
ME: I can see what is in it. Do you know what the name of the trail mix is?
MAN: It is $2.99 per pound.
ME: I'm sure it is, but I need a four digit PLU code. [i begin to look up codes to about 6 different trail mixes this could be]
MAN: Do you want me to get it?
ME: That would be great.
MAN: [walks off and comes back with the code]
ME: [after ringing in more groceries, picks up another unmarked bulk item, chocolate covered something] This one should be easier to find in the book.
MAN: Are you new?
ME: No.
MAN: Because I have never had this problem before.
ME: I'm not new. We actually do need codes to ring in these items.
MAN: I've never had this problem before. Do you want me to help you get this code?
ME: Are these chocolate covered raisins? (a guess)
MAN: Yes! Exactly! (smiling like an asshole, like he just taught me something)
ME: [flipping through the book to find the code]
MAN: [patronizingly] Do you want me to help you?
ME: NO!!
Was this guy trying to make me angry on purpose? Congratulations asshole, mission accomplished. How is it that 99% of our customers understand the concept of writing down the highlighted PLU code and this one prick doesn't? There are signs for this all over the department. This actually made me quite mad, leaving me in a bad mood for an hour until I clocked out. My manager had never heard me utter so many curse words before. He said, "It's nice to meet the real Miranda."
The real Miranda? What is that supposed to mean? I'm not always a cursing rage monster. I like to think I am a nice, well mannered girl most of the time. I only shed my human form when someone is really asking for it, kind of like the Hulk.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Day Ten
Actor
A woman came to my line with a bottle of wine.
ME: So ma'am, how long have you been 21?
LADY: Oh, I'm 60. I have no problem admitting it.
ME: Cool, so you're almost retired, huh?
LADY: I'm an actor so I never retire.
ME: Ooh! You're an actor? What roles have you done lately?
LADY: I was in The Taming of the Shrew, but that was 25 years ago.
ME: Oh.
LADY: Now I teach acting at a high school. Some of them tell me they want to be actors, then I laugh at them and maybe try to steer them in the right direction.
Lucky kids...
Observation :
Old dudes that wear t-shirts decorated with the grim reaper also tend to have arms covered in tattoos and they always look like Hulk Hogan. They are also always some of the most kind, happy and friendly people I meet. Just an observation.
Old Lady #1
This old lady came in through my line and gave me a big reusable bag to put their groceries in. I noticed there was writing on the inside of the bag, but I didn't think anything of it. After they paid, I handed the old lady her bag.
OLD LADY: Sorry that the bag is inside out.
ME: Oh. That's fine, it still works right?
OLD LADY: Yeah. It's just that the bag advertises crime cleanup and I didn't want people to think things.
Since when did crime cleanup companies give out reusable bags? I didn't know crime cleanup was becoming so eco-friendly. How did this lady get this reusable bag? Was it a gift for services rendered? Who uses a reusable bag from a crime cleanup company?
NYPD
Earlier in my shift, a man came through my line wearing a Chicago Fire Department-shirt. I asked him if he was in the Chicago FD and he said yes. He told me he worked there for many years and lived in a suburb 15 miles south of the city. I thought that was cool. Later in my shift came an older man who was wearing an NYPD cap. I asked him if he was in the NYPD. He told me a dear friend of his was in the NYPD. He said he died in the attack on 9/11 and the family of this brave policeman had since moved out of New York. He said he wears the NYPD cap everyday in honor of his friend's sacrifice. I told him I was sorry that he lost his friend. Hearing about this made me not want to ask a question like that ever again. So sad.
Hippie Apples, or "Happles" For Short
A whole family came to my line to check out groceries. I tried so hard to keep from staring. The mom was a flower child. She wore a tie dye peasant blouse. What was far more interesting was that all four of her children were dressed like her. Two boys and two girls, all with the same hair cut as their mother, long hair with bangs. Yes bangs, even on the boys. The boys were walking the fine line between childhood and youth as evidenced by the peach fuzz over their upper lips. They had bangs. The best part of all? The dad looked nothing like any of them. He could fit right into a live film version of King of the Hill. He was an older dude with a beer gut, donning a signature t-shirt that displayed the message, "I'll be nice to you if you stop being an idiot." An alternate title for this entry was "Hank and the Bohemians."
Update: Elvira
Today was the first day Elvira looked me in the eye.
ME: How is your day going?
ELVIRA: It's alright.
ME: Has it been busy?
ELVIRA: So and so. [she waved her hand from side to side]
That was the most we have ever talked, ever. Eye contact? Body language? I was in shock and elated that there was the slightest chance that Elvira could be turning around. Progress!!
A woman came to my line with a bottle of wine.
ME: So ma'am, how long have you been 21?
LADY: Oh, I'm 60. I have no problem admitting it.
ME: Cool, so you're almost retired, huh?
LADY: I'm an actor so I never retire.
ME: Ooh! You're an actor? What roles have you done lately?
LADY: I was in The Taming of the Shrew, but that was 25 years ago.
ME: Oh.
LADY: Now I teach acting at a high school. Some of them tell me they want to be actors, then I laugh at them and maybe try to steer them in the right direction.
Lucky kids...
Observation :
Old dudes that wear t-shirts decorated with the grim reaper also tend to have arms covered in tattoos and they always look like Hulk Hogan. They are also always some of the most kind, happy and friendly people I meet. Just an observation.
Old Lady #1
This old lady came in through my line and gave me a big reusable bag to put their groceries in. I noticed there was writing on the inside of the bag, but I didn't think anything of it. After they paid, I handed the old lady her bag.
OLD LADY: Sorry that the bag is inside out.
ME: Oh. That's fine, it still works right?
OLD LADY: Yeah. It's just that the bag advertises crime cleanup and I didn't want people to think things.
Since when did crime cleanup companies give out reusable bags? I didn't know crime cleanup was becoming so eco-friendly. How did this lady get this reusable bag? Was it a gift for services rendered? Who uses a reusable bag from a crime cleanup company?
NYPD
Earlier in my shift, a man came through my line wearing a Chicago Fire Department-shirt. I asked him if he was in the Chicago FD and he said yes. He told me he worked there for many years and lived in a suburb 15 miles south of the city. I thought that was cool. Later in my shift came an older man who was wearing an NYPD cap. I asked him if he was in the NYPD. He told me a dear friend of his was in the NYPD. He said he died in the attack on 9/11 and the family of this brave policeman had since moved out of New York. He said he wears the NYPD cap everyday in honor of his friend's sacrifice. I told him I was sorry that he lost his friend. Hearing about this made me not want to ask a question like that ever again. So sad.
Hippie Apples, or "Happles" For Short
A whole family came to my line to check out groceries. I tried so hard to keep from staring. The mom was a flower child. She wore a tie dye peasant blouse. What was far more interesting was that all four of her children were dressed like her. Two boys and two girls, all with the same hair cut as their mother, long hair with bangs. Yes bangs, even on the boys. The boys were walking the fine line between childhood and youth as evidenced by the peach fuzz over their upper lips. They had bangs. The best part of all? The dad looked nothing like any of them. He could fit right into a live film version of King of the Hill. He was an older dude with a beer gut, donning a signature t-shirt that displayed the message, "I'll be nice to you if you stop being an idiot." An alternate title for this entry was "Hank and the Bohemians."
Update: Elvira
Today was the first day Elvira looked me in the eye.
ME: How is your day going?
ELVIRA: It's alright.
ME: Has it been busy?
ELVIRA: So and so. [she waved her hand from side to side]
That was the most we have ever talked, ever. Eye contact? Body language? I was in shock and elated that there was the slightest chance that Elvira could be turning around. Progress!!
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