Hot Commodity
One of the worst first world problems you can have in Texas is having the A/C in your car break down in the summer. Add to that the fact that my car has a black leather interior (I bought the car in the winter, it was a great idea then). The temperature was above 100 degrees outside, a sweltering heat that my car welcomed in with open...doors. After 30 minutes of driving I was drenched in sweat. I walked in the office and asked my manager if I could buy another ugly green t-shirt. Grumpy Gill gave me one for free. That was very nice of him. Before changing I stepped into the walk-in freezer and remained there for six minutes to dry off. Then I clocked in, on time.
[hold for applause]
Update: Banshee
Banshee came back to work today. Her stomach was flat and she looked more like when I first met her. It was so sad to see. I didn't want to bother her about what happened. I figured if she wanted to talk about it, she would.
As my shift went on, I found that Banshee would walk by me just as I would say the absolute WRONG thing to a customer.
EXAMPLE NO. 1
A little boy strolled up to my line in the grocery cart his mom was pushing. He would hand me items and I would scan them. I tried to scan something that required a code and my register all but screamed at me.
ME: Bugger!
BOY: Buggaahhhh!
He was at that age where you have to be extremely careful about what you say. The mom laughed. We gabbed about babies and I told the woman that I wasn't allowed to buy anything baby-related for a month because I kept wanting to buy all of Target's baby section.
WOMAN: Why?
ME: My nephew will be born in a month. I can't stop buying every cute thing I see.
WOMAN: That's what nephews do to aunties.
ME: He's not even born yet and I'm a shopaholic.
...and Banshee walks by. Damn it.
EXAMPLE NO. 2
A male customer walked up to my register.
ME: How are you doing today?
MAN: [grumbles irritatedly]
ME: Okay, bad day...Forget I asked! Abort!
...and Banshee walks by. Damn it. I'm such an ass.
She-Wolf
A girl came into my line with a face fully painted like a wolf. She growled and pretended to chew on all of the grocery items her mom put on my belt. I noticed that she picked up carrots.
ME: I have never heard of a wolf that like carrots.
MOM: This wolf is a vegetarian.
GIRL: [still speaking like a growling wolf] I'm gonna eat these carrots like Bugs Bunny!
Although unrelated to her looking like a wolf, I was elated that she even knows who Bugs Bunny is. That meant so many things, the best of which being that she is being exposed to some classical music! Wagner! Rossini! Mozart!
ME: Good wolf. Watch all the Bugs Bunny you can, especially the older ones. Okay?
GIRL: Rowr!!
ME: Is that a yes?
Snob Daughter
I was honestly not paying much attention to this customer because she was plainly cordial like many of the customers I don't write about. This was until her daughter walked up wanting to buy something.
GIRL: Can I get this?
MOM: No.
GIRL: Are you serious? You are getting all of this other junk food but you will not spare $1.79 for a bag of seaweed chips?
MOM: [no response]
GIRL: Hello?!
MOM:[no response]
It was all I could do to not give that mom a high five right there. Again, once upon a time, I was that snotty daughter disrespectfully requesting food items from my mom at checkout. My mom was her mom. My mom did the right thing as this mom did. I have to make a point of calling my mom to thank her for saying, "No." Hopefully that daughter will thank her mom one day too.
New Blood
Two new cashiers were in training. This store is ready for me to go! I went over to bag groceries for one of them. The cashier I was helping scanned a few items for a customer, then stopped every once in a while to find PLU codes. When she couldn't find a code she asked me for help. I then found myself giving her code after code without her asking for help, like a nervous tick I couldn't get rid of. I had to stop myself!
ME: I'm so sorry. It is easier for you to memorize codes by looking them up over and over, so I'm going to shut up now.
CASHIER: [laughs] Thanks.
Ugh. I'm glad that I remembered that what seems helpful isn't helpful at all in this situation. The two new girls are nice. I forgot their names already. If they do anything of note in my last two days, they will at least get a nickname.
Old Man #13
An old man was about to walk into Klepto Sue's line when he saw that my line was empty. Sue was finishing up with a customer.
OLD MAN: [walking over to me] I'm going to go to the friendliest cashier here!
ME: How do you know I am friendly?
OLD MAN: Because you talk to me. You ask me questions.
ME: Oh! So how is your day going?
OLD MAN: That's the kind of thing you say!
Showing posts with label Old Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Old Man. Show all posts
Friday, January 25, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
Day Forty One
Old Man #12
Have you ever been so tired that you cannot and should not operate machinery? That was me today. After I endangered a dozen or so lives while driving to work I attempted to handle a cash register. I screwed up A LOT. I had charged people twice for items, I entered the wrong PLU codes and I would somehow charge people for 25 of an item when they only bought 2.
In came an old man with a cap on that read "Old dude with achy breaky parts."
ME: Billy Ray Cyrus? [pointing to the old man's cap]
OLD MAN: Who?
I laughed. I kept entering the wrong PLU codes and the old man kept questioning the screen.
OLD MAN: Is that asparagus?
ME: [holding celery] I'm so sorry. I'm so tired my fingers keep hitting the wrong buttons.
This happened so many times that I had to get head cashier Patti to scan her card to allow for all the voids. She stuck around to help me bag groceries because I was going so slow. I felt so bad. This transaction took much longer than it should have.
ME: I am SO sorry sir. [I finally handed him his receipt] I'm sorry for any pain I may have caused you during this transaction.
OLD MAN: You have a wonderful smile. You could never cause me any pain.
PATTI: Woo! It's gettin' deep in here. I'm gonna need my boots!
The Cashier Exodus
Sally Spec walked up to me with a frown on her face.
SALLY: It looks like we are definitely going to have to keep our hair up from now on.
ME: What?
It was what I feared. She explained to me how Ryan was no longer going to be a head cashier so that he can transfer to grocery, cut his hours and attend school. O.C.Daisy was going to be the new head cashier. I tried to imagine what this new environment would be like. Tied up hair, tucked in shirts and being called "darlin" by someone who hates me. I didn't take another breath before I had resolved to submit my two week notice.
I took out a blank sheet of paper and did the very thing I criticized Heartless Lucy for doing, hand writing my letter. It was the gesture of immediately handing in a resignation at the news of Daisy's promotion that I was after. I had originally planned to stay as a cashier to the end of August.
I explained in the letter that I was offered two new jobs, one as an adjunct professor of trumpet at a state university, the other as an assistant director of music for a church. I mentioned how much I appreciated them taking me in as a cashier and how it meant more to me than simply having a job to transition me from my doctoral coursework to professional employment. Having the opportunity to interact with customers and coworkers is what I enjoyed most. I also enjoyed the exercise of writing about these interactions but I didn't admit to that in the resignation. I actually felt a slight tug in my heart strings when I handed the letter to Emmy.
EMMY: [looking at the letter, she gasped] I know what this means! You are going to start that bucket list! I do NOT want that to happen!
Oh yeah, the bucket list. I made a list in my mind of things I would do in my last days of employment. I would sometimes share this list with Emmy for a laugh.
1. Tell customers to put back items where they found them and that I would wait until they come back. This store isn't that big.
2. Rude people do not receive direct eye contact, but a look just past them to the left or the right of their faces.
3. Whenever I witnessed a parent being awful to their kid, I would complain of having a huge headache all of a sudden and that I would return after getting some aspirin.
...just to name a few. Every time something messed up happened in the store, I would add my dream reaction to the bucket list, vowing to react that way at the appropriate time. I assured Emmy that these things wouldn't happen...maybe. She reminded me that we still needed to play "Johnny Be Good" on the trumpet sometime. That would will probably never happen, but I always reply, "Yeah!"
The Best Kid, Ever
Two parents and their son came through my line today with a ton of groceries. We made the usual pleasant conversation as I rang in items. The little boy helped his mom get items out of the cart to place them on the belt. Once he finished helping he walked forward until something caught his eye: the container of organic lollipops. He stared at them for a long time. He didn't touch the container. He didn't say, "Mom, look! Can I have one?" It was obvious that he had been trained by his parents to never beg. The staring went on for several minutes and his jaw slackened as he inspected around the sides, checking out each and every flavor. It was hard to watch without laughing out loud. How was he not drooling? He moved aside so that his mom could swipe her card. I grabbed the container and pulled out all of the flavors. Instead of going to the kid though, I looked at the mom first.
ME: Your kid is one of the best behaved kids I have ever seen.
MOM: Thank you!
ME: I would like to offer him a lollipop, is that okay?
MOM: Yes!
I thought I had already seen this kid's eyes open as wide as they could. I was wrong. He looked at the lollipops as though this flavor decision would be life altering. He chose watermelon. He said thank you without the parents prompting him to say so. Amazing parents. Amazing kid.
Carbs
The latte I drank before work had worn off and I became more tired than when my shift started. Lines were getting long when a group of skinny pre-teen girls came into my line. They only had a couple of snacks. One of the girls was checking nutritional information on the back of a pack of candy before she was going to let me scan it. She made a comment about how many carbs were in her food item. The other girl made a disapproving moan. She told me she was going to replace the item with something else really quick and that she would be back. I watched them both hurry off as I turned around to face Sally Spec.
ME: That fatless fetus is checking carbs. WHY AMERICA?!
I wasn't aware of how far my booming man voice had carried. There was an echo. Customers in my line and Sally's line stared at me. Some laughed. I didn't mean to say it that loudly. The girls came back and just bought flavored water. They put away all of their foods. I didn't know what to say. On one hand I was happy that they put the food away themselves. On the other hand, I wish those girls knew that they weren't going to gain a pound from the snacks they were going to buy. In addition to the small pack of candy they were going to buy a small pack of fruit snacks and a small four pack of Lucy's gluten free, dairy free cookies. As one who is experienced in being previously fat (to clarify, a person who has (several times) come down from having too large a body mass index for her height and gender through exercise and good diet), I can say that without a doubt they would have been fine. They hardly looked like they were being fed in the first place. I shook my head and moved on to the next customer.
Have you ever been so tired that you cannot and should not operate machinery? That was me today. After I endangered a dozen or so lives while driving to work I attempted to handle a cash register. I screwed up A LOT. I had charged people twice for items, I entered the wrong PLU codes and I would somehow charge people for 25 of an item when they only bought 2.
In came an old man with a cap on that read "Old dude with achy breaky parts."
ME: Billy Ray Cyrus? [pointing to the old man's cap]
OLD MAN: Who?
I laughed. I kept entering the wrong PLU codes and the old man kept questioning the screen.
OLD MAN: Is that asparagus?
ME: [holding celery] I'm so sorry. I'm so tired my fingers keep hitting the wrong buttons.
This happened so many times that I had to get head cashier Patti to scan her card to allow for all the voids. She stuck around to help me bag groceries because I was going so slow. I felt so bad. This transaction took much longer than it should have.
ME: I am SO sorry sir. [I finally handed him his receipt] I'm sorry for any pain I may have caused you during this transaction.
OLD MAN: You have a wonderful smile. You could never cause me any pain.
PATTI: Woo! It's gettin' deep in here. I'm gonna need my boots!
The Cashier Exodus
Sally Spec walked up to me with a frown on her face.
SALLY: It looks like we are definitely going to have to keep our hair up from now on.
ME: What?
It was what I feared. She explained to me how Ryan was no longer going to be a head cashier so that he can transfer to grocery, cut his hours and attend school. O.C.Daisy was going to be the new head cashier. I tried to imagine what this new environment would be like. Tied up hair, tucked in shirts and being called "darlin" by someone who hates me. I didn't take another breath before I had resolved to submit my two week notice.
I took out a blank sheet of paper and did the very thing I criticized Heartless Lucy for doing, hand writing my letter. It was the gesture of immediately handing in a resignation at the news of Daisy's promotion that I was after. I had originally planned to stay as a cashier to the end of August.
I explained in the letter that I was offered two new jobs, one as an adjunct professor of trumpet at a state university, the other as an assistant director of music for a church. I mentioned how much I appreciated them taking me in as a cashier and how it meant more to me than simply having a job to transition me from my doctoral coursework to professional employment. Having the opportunity to interact with customers and coworkers is what I enjoyed most. I also enjoyed the exercise of writing about these interactions but I didn't admit to that in the resignation. I actually felt a slight tug in my heart strings when I handed the letter to Emmy.
EMMY: [looking at the letter, she gasped] I know what this means! You are going to start that bucket list! I do NOT want that to happen!
Oh yeah, the bucket list. I made a list in my mind of things I would do in my last days of employment. I would sometimes share this list with Emmy for a laugh.
1. Tell customers to put back items where they found them and that I would wait until they come back. This store isn't that big.
2. Rude people do not receive direct eye contact, but a look just past them to the left or the right of their faces.
3. Whenever I witnessed a parent being awful to their kid, I would complain of having a huge headache all of a sudden and that I would return after getting some aspirin.
...just to name a few. Every time something messed up happened in the store, I would add my dream reaction to the bucket list, vowing to react that way at the appropriate time. I assured Emmy that these things wouldn't happen...maybe. She reminded me that we still needed to play "Johnny Be Good" on the trumpet sometime. That would will probably never happen, but I always reply, "Yeah!"
The Best Kid, Ever
Two parents and their son came through my line today with a ton of groceries. We made the usual pleasant conversation as I rang in items. The little boy helped his mom get items out of the cart to place them on the belt. Once he finished helping he walked forward until something caught his eye: the container of organic lollipops. He stared at them for a long time. He didn't touch the container. He didn't say, "Mom, look! Can I have one?" It was obvious that he had been trained by his parents to never beg. The staring went on for several minutes and his jaw slackened as he inspected around the sides, checking out each and every flavor. It was hard to watch without laughing out loud. How was he not drooling? He moved aside so that his mom could swipe her card. I grabbed the container and pulled out all of the flavors. Instead of going to the kid though, I looked at the mom first.
ME: Your kid is one of the best behaved kids I have ever seen.
MOM: Thank you!
ME: I would like to offer him a lollipop, is that okay?
MOM: Yes!
I thought I had already seen this kid's eyes open as wide as they could. I was wrong. He looked at the lollipops as though this flavor decision would be life altering. He chose watermelon. He said thank you without the parents prompting him to say so. Amazing parents. Amazing kid.
Carbs
The latte I drank before work had worn off and I became more tired than when my shift started. Lines were getting long when a group of skinny pre-teen girls came into my line. They only had a couple of snacks. One of the girls was checking nutritional information on the back of a pack of candy before she was going to let me scan it. She made a comment about how many carbs were in her food item. The other girl made a disapproving moan. She told me she was going to replace the item with something else really quick and that she would be back. I watched them both hurry off as I turned around to face Sally Spec.
ME: That fatless fetus is checking carbs. WHY AMERICA?!
I wasn't aware of how far my booming man voice had carried. There was an echo. Customers in my line and Sally's line stared at me. Some laughed. I didn't mean to say it that loudly. The girls came back and just bought flavored water. They put away all of their foods. I didn't know what to say. On one hand I was happy that they put the food away themselves. On the other hand, I wish those girls knew that they weren't going to gain a pound from the snacks they were going to buy. In addition to the small pack of candy they were going to buy a small pack of fruit snacks and a small four pack of Lucy's gluten free, dairy free cookies. As one who is experienced in being previously fat (to clarify, a person who has (several times) come down from having too large a body mass index for her height and gender through exercise and good diet), I can say that without a doubt they would have been fine. They hardly looked like they were being fed in the first place. I shook my head and moved on to the next customer.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Day Thirty Five
STFU
Today, as I was checking out a customer a woman in another line was talking on her cell phone, VERY LOUDLY. I tried to ignore it but she was so loud that I couldn't engage in a conversation with the customer in front of me. I stared at her cashier, JV, who shot me a similarly annoyed look back. I eventually shouted as loud as this woman to try to get a point across.
ME: [yelling] OKAY MA'AM. YOUR TOTAL IS $12.76!
[she swiped the card]
ME: [still yelling] CREDIT OR DEBIT?!!
Nothing. No reaction from the loud woman, she just kept talking really fucking loudly. My customer and all the other customers were annoyed. How deaf was the person on the other end? Eventually, a golden opportunity came along. She turned enough to be in my line of sight. I waved my hand to catch her full attention. Once I had it, I brought my pointer finger to my lips.
ME: Shh!
She was all of a sudden aware of how loud she was being. She looked around and saw all of the people around her glaring at her. She apologized and quieted down. JV smiled at me and my customer laughed, telling me, "Good job."
Old Man #11
An old man and his wife came into my line with a dark roasted turkey that rang up for $8.99. He immediately shot off to check the price and came back to tell me that it rang up wrong.
ME: Sorry about that. I'll give it to you for $6.99
OLD MAN: Don't make it sound like you're doing me any favors.
ME: You're right. No favors for you.
He was grouchy and unamused by my last comment. After leaving, this man came back in. I was almost expecting him to tell the manager that I was rude but instead, he said that his wife lost her prescription sunglasses. My manager looked in lost and found and saw nothing. A minute later another customer came up to me and said said that someone left their sunglasses in a cart. I laughed. Not doing him any favors, huh?
I took the glasses, walked over to the old man and asked him if these were the one he was looking for. He looked at me with gratitude and said yes, that they were very expensive. He thanked me a couple of times then left. He acted nothing like the man who went through my line. He smiled, he was gracious. Why couldn't he be that way from the start?
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?
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Day Thirty Three
Update: Elvira
So weird. Elvira had her hair down in a loose ponytail and she cut long bangs. She still looked like her usual unhappy self except with a more feminine haircut. I complimented her hair in the break room and she became bashful about it. Elvira's version of "bashful" is where she grunts and waves her arm dismissively on the off chance that your compliment is sarcastic. She sat down across from me for the last five minutes of my break and inspected my lunch.
ELVIRA: What is that?
ME: It's gluten-free pasta, spinach and mushrooms tossed in an arrabiatta sauce.
ELVIRA: Ugh. Have to have meat.
She rolled her eyes at my vegetarian ways, but all of the old lady cashiers do. We chatted about cooking and and shared our favorite kinds of cooking. My forte is chicken curry, Elvira apparently makes a mean tortilla. She talks to me more nowadays and acts less grouchy, I am glad to say.
Jacob
Jacob is another one of the new employees. He is good looking, very tall and he has a booming deep voice that makes me want to hear him sing this:
I also noticed he had on a nice white belt that made our store's unattractive green t-shirt look like he wore it on purpose. I would try accessorizing but the ugly green t-shirt has an evil power that makes me not care about my appearance. Good looking gay guys like Jacob are immune to the powers of an ugly green t-shirt.
The Informant
It is summertime. The climate is good enough in some parts of the nation to bear fruits and vegetables I have never heard of or seen in person. A lady walked into my line with a basket of vegetables. After scanning a few items, I picked up this veggie that looked like a rejected sweet potato that somehow escaped the inspection trash can.
ME: Is this a sweet potato?
LADY: No, that is a yuca root.
ME: Oh! Okay, I have never seen one raw before. Thanks.
LADY: No problem. [she starting pulling items from the basket]
LADY: These are celery [she hands me the celery],
LADY: and this is kale [she hands me the kale],
LADY: avocado [she handed me the avocado],
LADY: green bell peppers, beets, romaine lettuce...
...and so on. She did this until her basket was empty. I knew all of the remaining items in her basket. Maybe she thought I was some college kid who only ordered pizza all of this time. Maybe she thought I was from a third world country and that the only food I knew was rice. Maybe she thought she was being helpful to a new employee. I was proud of myself for not telling the lady, "Shut the hell up, I know what an avocado is!" However, I made a point to stop any future customers from trying to educate me like she did.
Old Man #9
An old man came through my line. He had a lot of items and slowly began to place each item on the belt. I was about to help but another man walked up and threw down a bag of coffee.
OLD MAN: Oh geez, I forgot.
SON: That's why I'm here, pop.
OLD MAN: That is the one thing we came here for.
SON: [laughs] Mom would be so mad if we forgot.
OLD MAN: You would have been blamed. I'm old and I am allowed to forget things.
SON: You're not allowed but you CAN get away with it better than I.
The son unloaded the rest of the cart for his dad and I kept listening to their conversation while I rang in items. They talked about family members coming to some dinner. They also chatted about the magazines, something about how Paula Deen may be skinnier but she still has that creepy smile. These guys had a fun bond.
SON: How are you, Miranda?
I was caught off guard and looked up. The son was classically handsome with a toothpaste commercial smile. He was so good looking that I don't think I responded right away. I eventually spoke.
ME: I'm good. Sorry! I was just listening to you guys talk! I love it when fathers and sons get along like you two.
OLD MAN: He is my favorite son.
SON: I'm his only son.
Loth in Tranthlation
An elderly lady walked up to me speaking Spanish. I couldn't understand a word she was saying (she was missing her two front teeth), her voice sounded like sandpaper and her Spanish was rapid. I constructed a sentence the best I could with, "No entiendo español cuando gente habla tan rapido." (I don't understand when people speak Spanish rapidly.)
She spoke again, much slower. I kept asking her to repeat, listening harder each time. I could tell she was frustrated but I was hell bent on helping her. I finally heard the words "flora" and "arroz". Bingo! Rice flour! I took her to the bulk section and we searched for her rice flour. When we found it she was so happy and relieved. I got a plastic bag for her and she got what she needed. I took her back to my register to check out and we conversed a little more.
From what I gathered, she is from El Salvador and had lived in the US for 33 years. She was finally trying to learn the native language after moving more north in Texas. "English is hard," she said (in English!). I laughed, proud of her. Proud of us both for meeting each other halfway.
Update: Copycat
Copycat is easily my best audience. Everything I say, funny or not, makes her laugh. We were both closing the store and she really wanted to make some of the closing announcements (15 minutes prior to close, 5 minutes prior, closing, then 5 minutes after). We split it up. She would do 15 and 5, I would handle closing. No customers were in the store five minutes prior to close so I was pretty excited we wouldn't have to wait around. I told Copycat that if someone came in at the last minute I would announce, "Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. Go home." She laughed, hard. I had never heard her laugh that much before. One customer did come in but didn't have a basket so I figured he would be leaving soon. He bought toilet paper and left right as closing time came around.
ME: It's 10pm! Closing announcement time!
COPYCAT: [picked up the phone before I did, and laughingly announced over the speakers] Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. GO HOME!
She put the phone down and laughed even harder than before. My jaw dropped. I wasn't actually going to say that. Our manager-on-duty, Emmy, was nice about it, thankfully. I told her it was my fault that Copycat did that and I assured her that our last customer left before the announcement (even though he probably heard it as he was leaving). I did get a mild scolding. Copycat has worked at this store for fours years and was probably going to work there for much longer. I didn't want her to get in trouble. As soon as I was sure that Copycat was safe, I finally laughed about it.
Observation: Copycat is highly impressionable.
So weird. Elvira had her hair down in a loose ponytail and she cut long bangs. She still looked like her usual unhappy self except with a more feminine haircut. I complimented her hair in the break room and she became bashful about it. Elvira's version of "bashful" is where she grunts and waves her arm dismissively on the off chance that your compliment is sarcastic. She sat down across from me for the last five minutes of my break and inspected my lunch.
ELVIRA: What is that?
ME: It's gluten-free pasta, spinach and mushrooms tossed in an arrabiatta sauce.
ELVIRA: Ugh. Have to have meat.
She rolled her eyes at my vegetarian ways, but all of the old lady cashiers do. We chatted about cooking and and shared our favorite kinds of cooking. My forte is chicken curry, Elvira apparently makes a mean tortilla. She talks to me more nowadays and acts less grouchy, I am glad to say.
Jacob
Jacob is another one of the new employees. He is good looking, very tall and he has a booming deep voice that makes me want to hear him sing this:
I also noticed he had on a nice white belt that made our store's unattractive green t-shirt look like he wore it on purpose. I would try accessorizing but the ugly green t-shirt has an evil power that makes me not care about my appearance. Good looking gay guys like Jacob are immune to the powers of an ugly green t-shirt.
The Informant
It is summertime. The climate is good enough in some parts of the nation to bear fruits and vegetables I have never heard of or seen in person. A lady walked into my line with a basket of vegetables. After scanning a few items, I picked up this veggie that looked like a rejected sweet potato that somehow escaped the inspection trash can.
ME: Is this a sweet potato?
LADY: No, that is a yuca root.
ME: Oh! Okay, I have never seen one raw before. Thanks.
LADY: No problem. [she starting pulling items from the basket]
LADY: These are celery [she hands me the celery],
LADY: and this is kale [she hands me the kale],
LADY: avocado [she handed me the avocado],
LADY: green bell peppers, beets, romaine lettuce...
...and so on. She did this until her basket was empty. I knew all of the remaining items in her basket. Maybe she thought I was some college kid who only ordered pizza all of this time. Maybe she thought I was from a third world country and that the only food I knew was rice. Maybe she thought she was being helpful to a new employee. I was proud of myself for not telling the lady, "Shut the hell up, I know what an avocado is!" However, I made a point to stop any future customers from trying to educate me like she did.
Old Man #9
An old man came through my line. He had a lot of items and slowly began to place each item on the belt. I was about to help but another man walked up and threw down a bag of coffee.
OLD MAN: Oh geez, I forgot.
SON: That's why I'm here, pop.
OLD MAN: That is the one thing we came here for.
SON: [laughs] Mom would be so mad if we forgot.
OLD MAN: You would have been blamed. I'm old and I am allowed to forget things.
SON: You're not allowed but you CAN get away with it better than I.
The son unloaded the rest of the cart for his dad and I kept listening to their conversation while I rang in items. They talked about family members coming to some dinner. They also chatted about the magazines, something about how Paula Deen may be skinnier but she still has that creepy smile. These guys had a fun bond.
SON: How are you, Miranda?
I was caught off guard and looked up. The son was classically handsome with a toothpaste commercial smile. He was so good looking that I don't think I responded right away. I eventually spoke.
ME: I'm good. Sorry! I was just listening to you guys talk! I love it when fathers and sons get along like you two.
OLD MAN: He is my favorite son.
SON: I'm his only son.
Loth in Tranthlation
An elderly lady walked up to me speaking Spanish. I couldn't understand a word she was saying (she was missing her two front teeth), her voice sounded like sandpaper and her Spanish was rapid. I constructed a sentence the best I could with, "No entiendo español cuando gente habla tan rapido." (I don't understand when people speak Spanish rapidly.)
She spoke again, much slower. I kept asking her to repeat, listening harder each time. I could tell she was frustrated but I was hell bent on helping her. I finally heard the words "flora" and "arroz". Bingo! Rice flour! I took her to the bulk section and we searched for her rice flour. When we found it she was so happy and relieved. I got a plastic bag for her and she got what she needed. I took her back to my register to check out and we conversed a little more.
From what I gathered, she is from El Salvador and had lived in the US for 33 years. She was finally trying to learn the native language after moving more north in Texas. "English is hard," she said (in English!). I laughed, proud of her. Proud of us both for meeting each other halfway.
Update: Copycat
Copycat is easily my best audience. Everything I say, funny or not, makes her laugh. We were both closing the store and she really wanted to make some of the closing announcements (15 minutes prior to close, 5 minutes prior, closing, then 5 minutes after). We split it up. She would do 15 and 5, I would handle closing. No customers were in the store five minutes prior to close so I was pretty excited we wouldn't have to wait around. I told Copycat that if someone came in at the last minute I would announce, "Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. Go home." She laughed, hard. I had never heard her laugh that much before. One customer did come in but didn't have a basket so I figured he would be leaving soon. He bought toilet paper and left right as closing time came around.
ME: It's 10pm! Closing announcement time!
COPYCAT: [picked up the phone before I did, and laughingly announced over the speakers] Attention customers, the time is now 10PM. GO HOME!
She put the phone down and laughed even harder than before. My jaw dropped. I wasn't actually going to say that. Our manager-on-duty, Emmy, was nice about it, thankfully. I told her it was my fault that Copycat did that and I assured her that our last customer left before the announcement (even though he probably heard it as he was leaving). I did get a mild scolding. Copycat has worked at this store for fours years and was probably going to work there for much longer. I didn't want her to get in trouble. As soon as I was sure that Copycat was safe, I finally laughed about it.
Observation: Copycat is highly impressionable.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Day Thirty Two
Update: Cake Eyes
I came into work lacking the usual amount of energy to give half of a damn. I needed coffee. I found as many excuses as I could to return unwanted grocery items so that I could drink a ton of coffee samples. Everytime I left my register I got the stink-eye from Cake Eyes. I later observed her interactions with her customers. She was so sweet and personable. It seemed genuine. It didn't make sense that she hated me so much.
After her shift was over, Cake Eyes came through my line. She purchased two huge bottles of wine and some dog treats.
ME: Dog treats! What kind of dogs do you have?
CAKE EYES: Husky mixes.
ME: How pretty! I have mixes too.
CAKE EYES: What kind?
ME: A lab mix and a German shepherd mix. They were rescues.
CAKE EYES: Mine were adopted too. It is the right thing to do.
I handed her receipt over, she smiled and said goodbye. Did our bonding over dogs make her hate me less? Could this be peace at last? I sure hope so.
Miranda & the Gang
An elderly lady came through my line with three young girls. The oldest of the little girls moved ahead of her sisters to stand infront of me. She pointed at my name tag.
LITTLE GIRL: My name is Miranda too!
ME: [Gasp!] That means you are also awesome!
MIRANDA: Uh huh! [she nodded]
I asked the usual round of questions I ask little kids in the summer. What grade are you in? Do you miss school? What's your favorite subject? What is the most fun thing you have done all summer? While they talked I noticed Miranda's freckles. What an adorable kid! She could land her own Disney show if she wanted.
ME: I love your freckles!
[Miranda sinks, her smile disappeared]
GRANDMOTHER: She doesn't like her freckles.
ME: Pish posh! Freckles are the stars in the sky that fall to rest on your face! I WISH I had freckles like that!
[Miranda smiles again, shyly]
GRANDMOTHER: [in a whisper] Thank you!
I hope this little girl one day understands how pretty those freckles are. That goes for all kids with freckles. I get freckles of sorts every now and then but they are not the cute kind.
Crazy Red Head Vegan
CRV is sad...again.
I had a boost of energy from drinking a ton of coffee samples, which may have added up to a few ounces past insomnia. Having decided to use this extra energy to cheer CRV up, I walked over to bag her customer's groceries. I made a huge deal out of everything she handed me.
ME: Hold the phone...are these THE Sprouts dried cranberries?
ME: Chocolate covered banana chips?! Shut the front door!
CRV: You're a silly girl.
A half smile. Success. O.C. Daisy was working nearby and she grumbled something to CRV about some code or protocol. I was not paying attention since I tend to zone out when OCD speaks ogre. CRV's frown returned.
ME: Don't let her bother you. [I pointed to OCD, who's back was turned at the moment] It is a curse to be like her, do you understand? A curse.
[CRV nods]
ME: Let her be like that. [I made a showcasing gesture, ala Vanna White] Be happy that you are nothing like this.
CRV agreed. She resumed her work in what seemed to be a better mood. My work here was done.
Gaythan
One of the new cashiers that OCD trained the other day introduced himself to me. His name was Nathan. He used to be a manager at a Food Lion in Virginia. Everything he said began with, "When I worked at Food Lion...(bla bla bla)" That is what people do when transfer from another place (same with people in new jobs and new schools) The repetitive nature of that kind of phrase often goes unnoticed by the storyteller. Food Lion tales aside, Nathan seemed like a cool guy and he was very cute. He was, as Karen Walker from Will & Grace would say, "Gayer than a clutch purse at the Tony Awards," and he became very comfortable with me very quickly. I do love the gays. We will be sure to check out guys together.
Regifter-in-law
ME: Hi! How is your day going?
WOMAN: [sigh]
ME: That good, huh?
WOMAN: I have to cook dinner for my husband's mother.
ME: Ah, classic 'in-law' tension.
WOMAN: She hates me.
ME: That can't be true.
WOMAN: She got a free robe from a spa she went to and gave it to me for Christmas, after she had already shown me the robe before.
ME: Yikes. Her gifts to other people?
WOMAN: Thoughtful.
ME: Unacceptable. If I despised my daughter-in-law, I would never send her a regift. I may not spend much on her, but I wouldn't regift. That is rude on too obvious a level. I wouldn't want my family to actually KNOW I hated her.
I realized those words were not comforting. I urged her to drink a glass of wine before her mother-in-law arrived. She went to the back of the store to grab a cabernet sauvignon.
Old Man #8
ME: Hi there!
OLD MAN: No I'm not!
Richard Gere: Part Two
Richard Gere came into my line. YESSS....
RG: Hello!
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
RG: Good. Just buying more vegetables. I'm doing a juice fast.
ME: Healthy.
RG: Trying to be.
So far so good.
RG: So, do you...do you play the trumpet?
...and STOP. How the fuck does this guy know that I play the trumpet?! I didn't respond right away.
ME: Uh...
RG: Do you know Lisa?
ME: Oh my god. Tom!
RG: Yeah, it's me!
ME: I played trumpet and sang at your wedding! I didn't recognize you at all! (They divorced a year ago)
RG: Yeah, well my hair is grey.
ME: The beard is gone too, huh?
RG: Yeah. Do you talk to Lisa anymore?
ME: No. (That was a lie)
RG: Melody?
ME: I don't keep in touch with any of those girls anymore. (Also a lie)
RG: Oh well. It's good to see you, I'll see you around!
ME: Yeah! Take care!
Tom walked away as I held back my vomit. Tom was married to my friend Lisa for several years. Toward the end of their marriage Lisa found out that Tom was soliciting sex to strangers and prostitutes. She found emails. It was horrifying. She had to undergo tests to make sure she didn't have a disease. I can't imagine how much therapy this whole thing required. This man that she thought was the love of her life was SCUM. It was such a horrible ordeal and here this guy is, acting like he doesn't know who I am when he knew EXACTLY who I was. I had visited the home of him and his ex-wife tons of times in the past and I look exactly the same as when he last saw me those years ago. I later found out that he had been trying to contact Lisa, trying to find excuses to see her. I am SO glad I lied. Gross.
Update: Banshee
I noticed that OCD was called into the office with our general manager for a meeting. I wondered what it was and I was scared that it involved promotion. Banshee later informed me that employees had started complaining to the GM about the older lady cashiers ruining everyone's employment experience with their grumbling and old lady ways. Specifically, they were making the younger employees feel uncomfortable by insulting fellow co-workers on a regular basis. That is why OCD was called in. Apparently, Cake Eyes was called out by our GM in a similar meeting earlier that day.
Banshee had instilled a new "No Shit Talking" rule. If any employees are caught talking shit about a fellow employee, they are to be reported. The infraction will result in an instant write up.
Ah...JUSTICE.
I came into work lacking the usual amount of energy to give half of a damn. I needed coffee. I found as many excuses as I could to return unwanted grocery items so that I could drink a ton of coffee samples. Everytime I left my register I got the stink-eye from Cake Eyes. I later observed her interactions with her customers. She was so sweet and personable. It seemed genuine. It didn't make sense that she hated me so much.
After her shift was over, Cake Eyes came through my line. She purchased two huge bottles of wine and some dog treats.
ME: Dog treats! What kind of dogs do you have?
CAKE EYES: Husky mixes.
ME: How pretty! I have mixes too.
CAKE EYES: What kind?
ME: A lab mix and a German shepherd mix. They were rescues.
CAKE EYES: Mine were adopted too. It is the right thing to do.
I handed her receipt over, she smiled and said goodbye. Did our bonding over dogs make her hate me less? Could this be peace at last? I sure hope so.
Miranda & the Gang
An elderly lady came through my line with three young girls. The oldest of the little girls moved ahead of her sisters to stand infront of me. She pointed at my name tag.
LITTLE GIRL: My name is Miranda too!
ME: [Gasp!] That means you are also awesome!
MIRANDA: Uh huh! [she nodded]
I asked the usual round of questions I ask little kids in the summer. What grade are you in? Do you miss school? What's your favorite subject? What is the most fun thing you have done all summer? While they talked I noticed Miranda's freckles. What an adorable kid! She could land her own Disney show if she wanted.
ME: I love your freckles!
[Miranda sinks, her smile disappeared]
GRANDMOTHER: She doesn't like her freckles.
ME: Pish posh! Freckles are the stars in the sky that fall to rest on your face! I WISH I had freckles like that!
[Miranda smiles again, shyly]
GRANDMOTHER: [in a whisper] Thank you!
I hope this little girl one day understands how pretty those freckles are. That goes for all kids with freckles. I get freckles of sorts every now and then but they are not the cute kind.
Crazy Red Head Vegan
CRV is sad...again.
I had a boost of energy from drinking a ton of coffee samples, which may have added up to a few ounces past insomnia. Having decided to use this extra energy to cheer CRV up, I walked over to bag her customer's groceries. I made a huge deal out of everything she handed me.
ME: Hold the phone...are these THE Sprouts dried cranberries?
ME: Chocolate covered banana chips?! Shut the front door!
CRV: You're a silly girl.
A half smile. Success. O.C. Daisy was working nearby and she grumbled something to CRV about some code or protocol. I was not paying attention since I tend to zone out when OCD speaks ogre. CRV's frown returned.
ME: Don't let her bother you. [I pointed to OCD, who's back was turned at the moment] It is a curse to be like her, do you understand? A curse.
[CRV nods]
ME: Let her be like that. [I made a showcasing gesture, ala Vanna White] Be happy that you are nothing like this.
CRV agreed. She resumed her work in what seemed to be a better mood. My work here was done.
Gaythan
One of the new cashiers that OCD trained the other day introduced himself to me. His name was Nathan. He used to be a manager at a Food Lion in Virginia. Everything he said began with, "When I worked at Food Lion...(bla bla bla)" That is what people do when transfer from another place (same with people in new jobs and new schools) The repetitive nature of that kind of phrase often goes unnoticed by the storyteller. Food Lion tales aside, Nathan seemed like a cool guy and he was very cute. He was, as Karen Walker from Will & Grace would say, "Gayer than a clutch purse at the Tony Awards," and he became very comfortable with me very quickly. I do love the gays. We will be sure to check out guys together.
Regifter-in-law
ME: Hi! How is your day going?
WOMAN: [sigh]
ME: That good, huh?
WOMAN: I have to cook dinner for my husband's mother.
ME: Ah, classic 'in-law' tension.
WOMAN: She hates me.
ME: That can't be true.
WOMAN: She got a free robe from a spa she went to and gave it to me for Christmas, after she had already shown me the robe before.
ME: Yikes. Her gifts to other people?
WOMAN: Thoughtful.
ME: Unacceptable. If I despised my daughter-in-law, I would never send her a regift. I may not spend much on her, but I wouldn't regift. That is rude on too obvious a level. I wouldn't want my family to actually KNOW I hated her.
I realized those words were not comforting. I urged her to drink a glass of wine before her mother-in-law arrived. She went to the back of the store to grab a cabernet sauvignon.
Old Man #8
ME: Hi there!
OLD MAN: No I'm not!
Richard Gere: Part Two
Richard Gere came into my line. YESSS....
RG: Hello!
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
RG: Good. Just buying more vegetables. I'm doing a juice fast.
ME: Healthy.
RG: Trying to be.
So far so good.
RG: So, do you...do you play the trumpet?
...and STOP. How the fuck does this guy know that I play the trumpet?! I didn't respond right away.
ME: Uh...
RG: Do you know Lisa?
ME: Oh my god. Tom!
RG: Yeah, it's me!
ME: I played trumpet and sang at your wedding! I didn't recognize you at all! (They divorced a year ago)
RG: Yeah, well my hair is grey.
ME: The beard is gone too, huh?
RG: Yeah. Do you talk to Lisa anymore?
ME: No. (That was a lie)
RG: Melody?
ME: I don't keep in touch with any of those girls anymore. (Also a lie)
RG: Oh well. It's good to see you, I'll see you around!
ME: Yeah! Take care!
Tom walked away as I held back my vomit. Tom was married to my friend Lisa for several years. Toward the end of their marriage Lisa found out that Tom was soliciting sex to strangers and prostitutes. She found emails. It was horrifying. She had to undergo tests to make sure she didn't have a disease. I can't imagine how much therapy this whole thing required. This man that she thought was the love of her life was SCUM. It was such a horrible ordeal and here this guy is, acting like he doesn't know who I am when he knew EXACTLY who I was. I had visited the home of him and his ex-wife tons of times in the past and I look exactly the same as when he last saw me those years ago. I later found out that he had been trying to contact Lisa, trying to find excuses to see her. I am SO glad I lied. Gross.
Update: Banshee
I noticed that OCD was called into the office with our general manager for a meeting. I wondered what it was and I was scared that it involved promotion. Banshee later informed me that employees had started complaining to the GM about the older lady cashiers ruining everyone's employment experience with their grumbling and old lady ways. Specifically, they were making the younger employees feel uncomfortable by insulting fellow co-workers on a regular basis. That is why OCD was called in. Apparently, Cake Eyes was called out by our GM in a similar meeting earlier that day.
Banshee had instilled a new "No Shit Talking" rule. If any employees are caught talking shit about a fellow employee, they are to be reported. The infraction will result in an instant write up.
Ah...JUSTICE.
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.
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.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Day Sixteen
Old Man #4
ME: Hi there! How has your day been?
OLD MAN: I was fine until the point where you take my money.
ME: I'm really sorry about that.
OLD MAN: You disappoint a lot of people.
So, You Think You Can Go Gluten-Free
A woman came through my line with a return.
WOMAN: Hi, I have a return.
ME: Okay. Is the item still good, or is it spoiled? (a question for restocking purposes)
WOMAN: Oh my daughter and I bought a bunch of gluten-free stuff to try out the diet and everything just tastes like cardboard.
ME: Okay.
WOMAN: I mean it just tastes awful. Bleh! [she laughs]
ME: The gluten-free diet is actually for people who are allergic to gluten. It's not a fad diet. It's for those with celiac disease. [I call my head cashier (Ryan) over to handle the return, standard protocol]
RYAN: Hi ma'am, got a return? Is this product still good?
WOMAN: Oh, it tastes like dirt. I need food that tastes good. [she laughs again]
ME: Look BITCH, this is replacement food for people who are allergic to gluten. Some people can't have wheat and it sucks for them because the diet takes a lot of adjustment and the food is expensive. For some families it creates a bit of hardship. I'm really annoyed by how insensitive you are. [I threw her refund at her face] By the way, you're fat.
Okay...maybe that is not how the conversation ended. That is how it would have ended if today was my last day on the job. Rewind...
RYAN: Is the product still good?
WOMAN: Oh, it tastes like dirt. I need food that tastes good. [she laughs again]
ME: The product is still good, she just didn't want it. [I handed the woman her refund]
Angel
A woman was buying two separate orders of groceries for whatever reason. About halfway through the first order, she changed her mind and asked me to put the two orders together in one transaction. I usually think nothing of these things. I picked up a can of Amy's Refried Beans.
ME: I love Amy's brand. I love to make Mexican recipes with this.
WOMAN: Oh yeah. That's my daughter's best friend's favorite.
ME: Aw, that's so sweet! Are you making dinner for a girls' night?
WOMAN: Oh...no. I'm buying groceries for my daughter's best friend's family. My daughter's best friend recently found out that she has a brain tumor.
ME: No way...I'm so sorry. How old is this girl?
WOMAN: 11 years old.
I paused. After a failed attempt to contemplate what that must be like for a kid that age, I continued to ask questions. Every answer that woman gave me had me more and more in disbelief.
ME: Is the tumor benign or malignant?
WOMAN: Malignant.
ME: Is she being treated at Dallas Children's?
WOMAN: Her treatment is being overseen in Boston, but she receives radiation in Dallas Children's.
ME: Can she be healed of this?
WOMAN: It doesn't look good. We hope so.
ME: [ handing the woman her receipt] I hope so too. You're an angel, you know.
I didn't know this woman personally but all I wanted to do was give her a hug. I hoped the best for that 11 year old girl and while I was so sad for her, I also felt happy for her. She has such great people who love and support her and her family, the kind of love that is the strongest medicine for healing and recovery.
F-Bomber
A woman swiped her card to pay for her groceries and my computer screen displayed a message that said, "Insufficient funds."
WOMAN: Oh no. I think there is less on the card than my total, is there a way to put in a certain amount in first on my card? I'll pay the rest in cash! I made too much fucking money last year on unemployment and I am not allowed how have much this year. [scoffs] Here's my loser card.
I looked at the card, it was a Lonestar card (foodstamps). Ryan was nearby and came over to help. He was able to find out how much money was on the card and help the woman do the transaction.
WOMAN: [handing over the rest in cash] Thank you! You're wonderful. You're probably thinking, 'Man, what a loser.'
ME: Not at all!
WOMAN: Oh thank you so much. You guys are so sweet. You know, I used to judge people who used this card all of the time, like 'Who is this fuckin' loser?' You know?
ME: [Handing her a receipt] It's cool, really. Have a nice day.
Until this woman came through my line, I had never heard any customers curse. I didn't think she was a loser at all. I'm sure this woman felt otherwise for being on food stamps, but she must have been doing better if the government was giving her less. I hoped that she would see even more prosperity, and eventually have less dependence on her Lonestar card.
Heartless Lucy
Lucy was one of my pals at work. We got along fine. For fun we would fake quarrels and pretend we don't like each other. Today, for the first time, I didn't have to pretend.
LUCY: Ugh I hate my dog.
ME: Aw! Why? What kind of dog is it?
LUCY: It's a Pomeranian Chihuahua mix. It's just bitchy and barks all of the time. It tears up all of my stuff while I'm not home and gets into my garbage.
ME: Do you have a kennel?
LUCY: No.
ME: Get a kennel and put your dog in it when you are not home.
LUCY: I'm getting rid of it.
ME: Why?
LUCY: I'm moving into an apartment.
ME: Pound or adoption?
LUCY: I'm going to find it a home.
ME: You're going to interview potential owners right?
LUCY: Yeah, I'm probably going to have a hard time letting go.
ME: Then why don't you get a kennel and see if that makes things better. When the dog misbehaves, the kennel is also good for disciplining. If your dog barks, face away and put in ear plugs. Only pay attention to it when it is behaving. Give it loads of treats when it obeys you and behaves well. You can take care of this dog. Just watch Animal Planet for Christ's sake.
LUCY: I'm moving to an apartment and I just don't want to deal with it.
ME: Then why did you get a dog in the first place?
LUCY: I didn't think it would be like this! I had a dog before! It was a lab and it was so smart and behaved well, but it died.
ME: How?
LUCY: Parvo. It was a puppy.
ME: Did you take it for shots?
LUCY: I was going to. It probably got parvo from the dog park. My roomates took my dog there without permission.
ME: Well, then did you murder your roomates? Or at the very least hate them forever?
LUCY: I know.
Lucy was telling all of this to the wrong person. I have a dog and I am fostering another. I have lived in a house with roomates who had dogs before. All dogs have the capacity to be wonderful pets. It is never a dog's fault if it misbehaves. They are like children, they require training. They require more than just food and water, the need love and attention and they will give back that love and attention more than two fold. Dogs cost money. Don't get a dog before you know how much it costs or what care is involved!
I was angry. I felt a little ridiculous for instantly not liking this girl, but honestly I didn't like her anymore. I wanted to break into her house and steal her dog. I wondered how neglected that dog was probably feeling. Lucy probably doesn't even walk it. I am going to get updates on this animal. I think I am going to find it a foster parent. Lucy may redeem herself for being a terrible owner if she makes an effort to find this dog an owner who will love it. I'm going to help.
ME: Hi there! How has your day been?
OLD MAN: I was fine until the point where you take my money.
ME: I'm really sorry about that.
OLD MAN: You disappoint a lot of people.
So, You Think You Can Go Gluten-Free
A woman came through my line with a return.
WOMAN: Hi, I have a return.
ME: Okay. Is the item still good, or is it spoiled? (a question for restocking purposes)
WOMAN: Oh my daughter and I bought a bunch of gluten-free stuff to try out the diet and everything just tastes like cardboard.
ME: Okay.
WOMAN: I mean it just tastes awful. Bleh! [she laughs]
ME: The gluten-free diet is actually for people who are allergic to gluten. It's not a fad diet. It's for those with celiac disease. [I call my head cashier (Ryan) over to handle the return, standard protocol]
RYAN: Hi ma'am, got a return? Is this product still good?
WOMAN: Oh, it tastes like dirt. I need food that tastes good. [she laughs again]
ME: Look BITCH, this is replacement food for people who are allergic to gluten. Some people can't have wheat and it sucks for them because the diet takes a lot of adjustment and the food is expensive. For some families it creates a bit of hardship. I'm really annoyed by how insensitive you are. [I threw her refund at her face] By the way, you're fat.
Okay...maybe that is not how the conversation ended. That is how it would have ended if today was my last day on the job. Rewind...
RYAN: Is the product still good?
WOMAN: Oh, it tastes like dirt. I need food that tastes good. [she laughs again]
ME: The product is still good, she just didn't want it. [I handed the woman her refund]
Angel
A woman was buying two separate orders of groceries for whatever reason. About halfway through the first order, she changed her mind and asked me to put the two orders together in one transaction. I usually think nothing of these things. I picked up a can of Amy's Refried Beans.
ME: I love Amy's brand. I love to make Mexican recipes with this.
WOMAN: Oh yeah. That's my daughter's best friend's favorite.
ME: Aw, that's so sweet! Are you making dinner for a girls' night?
WOMAN: Oh...no. I'm buying groceries for my daughter's best friend's family. My daughter's best friend recently found out that she has a brain tumor.
ME: No way...I'm so sorry. How old is this girl?
WOMAN: 11 years old.
I paused. After a failed attempt to contemplate what that must be like for a kid that age, I continued to ask questions. Every answer that woman gave me had me more and more in disbelief.
ME: Is the tumor benign or malignant?
WOMAN: Malignant.
ME: Is she being treated at Dallas Children's?
WOMAN: Her treatment is being overseen in Boston, but she receives radiation in Dallas Children's.
ME: Can she be healed of this?
WOMAN: It doesn't look good. We hope so.
ME: [ handing the woman her receipt] I hope so too. You're an angel, you know.
I didn't know this woman personally but all I wanted to do was give her a hug. I hoped the best for that 11 year old girl and while I was so sad for her, I also felt happy for her. She has such great people who love and support her and her family, the kind of love that is the strongest medicine for healing and recovery.
F-Bomber
A woman swiped her card to pay for her groceries and my computer screen displayed a message that said, "Insufficient funds."
WOMAN: Oh no. I think there is less on the card than my total, is there a way to put in a certain amount in first on my card? I'll pay the rest in cash! I made too much fucking money last year on unemployment and I am not allowed how have much this year. [scoffs] Here's my loser card.
I looked at the card, it was a Lonestar card (foodstamps). Ryan was nearby and came over to help. He was able to find out how much money was on the card and help the woman do the transaction.
WOMAN: [handing over the rest in cash] Thank you! You're wonderful. You're probably thinking, 'Man, what a loser.'
ME: Not at all!
WOMAN: Oh thank you so much. You guys are so sweet. You know, I used to judge people who used this card all of the time, like 'Who is this fuckin' loser?' You know?
ME: [Handing her a receipt] It's cool, really. Have a nice day.
Until this woman came through my line, I had never heard any customers curse. I didn't think she was a loser at all. I'm sure this woman felt otherwise for being on food stamps, but she must have been doing better if the government was giving her less. I hoped that she would see even more prosperity, and eventually have less dependence on her Lonestar card.
Heartless Lucy
Lucy was one of my pals at work. We got along fine. For fun we would fake quarrels and pretend we don't like each other. Today, for the first time, I didn't have to pretend.
LUCY: Ugh I hate my dog.
ME: Aw! Why? What kind of dog is it?
LUCY: It's a Pomeranian Chihuahua mix. It's just bitchy and barks all of the time. It tears up all of my stuff while I'm not home and gets into my garbage.
ME: Do you have a kennel?
LUCY: No.
ME: Get a kennel and put your dog in it when you are not home.
LUCY: I'm getting rid of it.
ME: Why?
LUCY: I'm moving into an apartment.
ME: Pound or adoption?
LUCY: I'm going to find it a home.
ME: You're going to interview potential owners right?
LUCY: Yeah, I'm probably going to have a hard time letting go.
ME: Then why don't you get a kennel and see if that makes things better. When the dog misbehaves, the kennel is also good for disciplining. If your dog barks, face away and put in ear plugs. Only pay attention to it when it is behaving. Give it loads of treats when it obeys you and behaves well. You can take care of this dog. Just watch Animal Planet for Christ's sake.
LUCY: I'm moving to an apartment and I just don't want to deal with it.
ME: Then why did you get a dog in the first place?
LUCY: I didn't think it would be like this! I had a dog before! It was a lab and it was so smart and behaved well, but it died.
ME: How?
LUCY: Parvo. It was a puppy.
ME: Did you take it for shots?
LUCY: I was going to. It probably got parvo from the dog park. My roomates took my dog there without permission.
ME: Well, then did you murder your roomates? Or at the very least hate them forever?
LUCY: I know.
Lucy was telling all of this to the wrong person. I have a dog and I am fostering another. I have lived in a house with roomates who had dogs before. All dogs have the capacity to be wonderful pets. It is never a dog's fault if it misbehaves. They are like children, they require training. They require more than just food and water, the need love and attention and they will give back that love and attention more than two fold. Dogs cost money. Don't get a dog before you know how much it costs or what care is involved!
I was angry. I felt a little ridiculous for instantly not liking this girl, but honestly I didn't like her anymore. I wanted to break into her house and steal her dog. I wondered how neglected that dog was probably feeling. Lucy probably doesn't even walk it. I am going to get updates on this animal. I think I am going to find it a foster parent. Lucy may redeem herself for being a terrible owner if she makes an effort to find this dog an owner who will love it. I'm going to help.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Day Eight
It's time for the 72 hour sale! This was pure madness. So many people came through my line that I didn't have time to talk to most of them. Two cashier contests were in effect. One was to sell French bread. Whoever sold the most would get a $30 gift card. The other contest was to sign up customers for our store's mailing list. Whoever signed up the most people would win a $50 gift card. Some people were really into it. I was when I started signing people up on the wrong day, one week ago. Not now. I think I'll act like I care whenever the manager walks by.
JV
JV was probably a junior varsity quarterback in high school. He has a "former high school athlete" vibe. When I first met him I kind of expected him to be one of those turds who say, "Dude, bro," all of the time but he surprised me. He was polite and mature. He probably loves and respects his mother. When we trained together I saw the year he was born on his application, while we were signing papers. He was born in 1992. He is practically a fetus.
We got to work next to each other today. It was fun at first, but then I noticed that whenever a customer would ask me a question, he would be quick to answer it for me. Okay...
So then I noticed whenever I was looking up a code for some obscure fruit or vegetable, he would lean over to see what I was trying to find, then he would tell me the number. Again, I will not learn a code if I don't look them up myself. Maybe he will notice my ignoring him...
Then when someone told me to page the manager, JV told me how to page, what buttons to push and what to say. I joked, saying, "Ok boss," whenever he would be bossy, but he didn't seem to understand that he was pissing me off.
What the hell was this kid's problem? How is it possible that anyone could be worse the Pedantic Joe and Elvira put together?! Disappointing. By now everyone else has left me alone and figured I knew what I was doing. Is pissing me off a rite of passage at this frickin' store? I will find a peaceful way to make him aware of how he acts. This is better than having to punch him in the larynx so that the only person he can talk to is himself.
Old Man #3
ME: How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: [old man voice, with a heavy New York accent] I'm here, that is all I can say.
ME: [after ringing up his groceries] That will be $16.14.
OLD MAN: $16.14! That's practically nothing! I should have just ran outta here!
ME: We would have never caught you.
He was on a walker.
Observation:
Women who carry Louis Vuitton purses do not give a shit about coupons. They also are not very talkative, they just want you to ring up their items so they don't have to be among commoners for too long. For the record, I hate blatant insignia as a pattern. Any woman who can afford Vuitton should just wait another paycheck (or allowance) and hold out for Prada. I did notice that women who carry Coach or Dooney & Bourke purses are more friendly and responsive. Still, they are ugly expensive purses. Just an observation.
Doin' the Don't
This lady was third in line when I first heard her scolding her toddler. The store was pretty busy at the moment. Her child was screaming and grabbing for everything he could, candy, French bread, lollipops, you name it. This mom was yelling at her kid to behave, but the boy wouldn't chill out. I decided to move faster on my current customer just to get the fussy child and yelling mother out of earshot. When the mom rolled her cart up, I saw a bottle in the child's right hand, a more than half empty 20 oz. bottle of Mountain Dew. Mother of the year, folks.
Caught
Sally Spec walks up to my register and picks up a strip of receipt paper, the paper that holds all of the notes to the current day's blog entry.
SALLY: [holding my notes] Is this about the customers? Who is JV?
ME: It's not always about the customers, sometimes I make up characters.
SALLY: Oh. [hands me my notes]
Holy shit. Too close. None of the people at work know I write this blog and none of them are my Facebook friends. If a few of them saw what I have written so far they probably wouldn't dig it. Thank goodness I write on the receipt paper with people's nicknames. What I write about anyone is not my fully formed opinion of a person, but how I happen to experience him or her that day. I think everyone I work with has the capacity to be a better person no matter how much they might have pissed me off in the first eight days. I will keep my notes in my back pocket from now on.
JV
JV was probably a junior varsity quarterback in high school. He has a "former high school athlete" vibe. When I first met him I kind of expected him to be one of those turds who say, "Dude, bro," all of the time but he surprised me. He was polite and mature. He probably loves and respects his mother. When we trained together I saw the year he was born on his application, while we were signing papers. He was born in 1992. He is practically a fetus.
We got to work next to each other today. It was fun at first, but then I noticed that whenever a customer would ask me a question, he would be quick to answer it for me. Okay...
So then I noticed whenever I was looking up a code for some obscure fruit or vegetable, he would lean over to see what I was trying to find, then he would tell me the number. Again, I will not learn a code if I don't look them up myself. Maybe he will notice my ignoring him...
Then when someone told me to page the manager, JV told me how to page, what buttons to push and what to say. I joked, saying, "Ok boss," whenever he would be bossy, but he didn't seem to understand that he was pissing me off.
What the hell was this kid's problem? How is it possible that anyone could be worse the Pedantic Joe and Elvira put together?! Disappointing. By now everyone else has left me alone and figured I knew what I was doing. Is pissing me off a rite of passage at this frickin' store? I will find a peaceful way to make him aware of how he acts. This is better than having to punch him in the larynx so that the only person he can talk to is himself.
Old Man #3
ME: How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: [old man voice, with a heavy New York accent] I'm here, that is all I can say.
ME: [after ringing up his groceries] That will be $16.14.
OLD MAN: $16.14! That's practically nothing! I should have just ran outta here!
ME: We would have never caught you.
He was on a walker.
Observation:
Women who carry Louis Vuitton purses do not give a shit about coupons. They also are not very talkative, they just want you to ring up their items so they don't have to be among commoners for too long. For the record, I hate blatant insignia as a pattern. Any woman who can afford Vuitton should just wait another paycheck (or allowance) and hold out for Prada. I did notice that women who carry Coach or Dooney & Bourke purses are more friendly and responsive. Still, they are ugly expensive purses. Just an observation.
Doin' the Don't
This lady was third in line when I first heard her scolding her toddler. The store was pretty busy at the moment. Her child was screaming and grabbing for everything he could, candy, French bread, lollipops, you name it. This mom was yelling at her kid to behave, but the boy wouldn't chill out. I decided to move faster on my current customer just to get the fussy child and yelling mother out of earshot. When the mom rolled her cart up, I saw a bottle in the child's right hand, a more than half empty 20 oz. bottle of Mountain Dew. Mother of the year, folks.
Caught
Sally Spec walks up to my register and picks up a strip of receipt paper, the paper that holds all of the notes to the current day's blog entry.
SALLY: [holding my notes] Is this about the customers? Who is JV?
ME: It's not always about the customers, sometimes I make up characters.
SALLY: Oh. [hands me my notes]
Holy shit. Too close. None of the people at work know I write this blog and none of them are my Facebook friends. If a few of them saw what I have written so far they probably wouldn't dig it. Thank goodness I write on the receipt paper with people's nicknames. What I write about anyone is not my fully formed opinion of a person, but how I happen to experience him or her that day. I think everyone I work with has the capacity to be a better person no matter how much they might have pissed me off in the first eight days. I will keep my notes in my back pocket from now on.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Day Four
Speedy Gonzales
I met Speedy on the first day of work. I noticed she liked to check out groceries very incredibly fast. Good for her. I'm not going to do that shit. She must always be doing something at all times. She prides herself on being "better" (meaning: faster) than everyone else at this job. She wasn't very talkative or minutely sociable so I moved to another cashier. Today, she was in the register behind me. No small talk. Not mean, but not nice either. No fun. She has the pride of Pedantic Joe, but lacks the kindness. She has the one word replies of Copy Cat, but not because she is shy (or socially awkward) but because she doesn't want to talk to you. On a scale of bearable to unbearable people I don't prefer to work near, she leans toward unbearable. I wonder if this is an initial period of "player hatin'" for new employees. I have a feeling Speedy will turn around. Being this negative has to be too tiring for her to keep it up.
Old Man #2
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: I am fantastic!
ME: Wow, it's so refreshing to see a really happy person.
OLD MAN: Darling, at my age? I'm just thrilled to be alive!
He winked, and smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen. Everyone should be just as thrilled to be alive, everyday.
Cashier Contest
Holy shit. Cashier contest. I love these. The co-op I worked for in Indiana had a cashier contest to raise the money for the Hoosier Hills food bank. I raised the most, something like $1200 by myself and won a gift basket with a gift card to the co-op. The prize, at this current store I work for, is a $50 gift card to the person who has the highest percentage of customers sign up for our mailing list on Friday through Sunday. I went in with guns blazing. I got around 90-95% of my customers to sign up the first day. Upon turning in all of my mailing list slips, my front end manager was ultra impressed.
MANAGER: Holy crap, you got this many customers to sign up?
ME: Yep! I want that gift card. Free wine and beer.
MANAGER: Well keep this up and you'll win that contest next weekend, for sure!
ME: Um...........................................................................it didn't start today?
MANAGER: Next weekend.
I officially don't give a crap about this contest.
Cute Guy, Maybe
I think I read something at some point from a Sociology book about how our attractions toward others are shifted and altered by proximity, exposure and environment. So, maybe I only found this guy attractive because he is the only good looking one working in the store, not because he is Don Draper. It could have also been because he was five registers away and I couldn't see him clearly, a "buen lejos" (good from far away), as a friend used to call guys who are cuter from the other side of the room. I decided to say hi, with the intent to maybe flirt if I discovered he wasn't a weirdo. As I greeted him, he began to check out a customer's groceries and I helped bag. After the customer left I asked about how busy the store had been so far and how new was he to the job. He replied, animatedly, but with his back facing me. Was he actually responding to me or was he having a conversation with an invisible person? Should I leave them alone? Hmm. I later found out he is the son or grandson of the president of the company. He doesn't really converse with anyone, I learned. The dichotomy among the cashiers, as far as how kind people are, was becoming more clear with each new person I met. It is disappointing to find that there are people who are not cool or fun to be around. Thankfully, there are more pleasant people than there are unpleasant.
Freckles
ME: [to a young girl standing in line waiting for her parents to load groceries on the belt, I smiled] Hi there! I think you have the cutest freckles!
LITTLE GIRL: [instantly frowns, followed by a dirty look]
MY INNER MONOLOGUE: Ummm, shit. Say something else!!!!
ME: Are you enjoying your vacation?
LITTLE GIRL: [smiles (thank goodness)] Yes!
ME: What grade are you in?
LITTLE GIRL: Goin' into second gwade.
ME: Cool! What is your favorite subject?
LITTLE GIRL: Eatin'!
Then we laughed. Whew...
I have never understood how anyone could not like their freckles. I think they are unique and beautiful and super adorable on kids. Later in the day another customer came in whose daughter was as freckled as the last kid. I made the same compliment. The little girl thanked me. So did the mom, as she had the same freckles her daughter had. I told her about the previously mentioned kid and the mom responded with an "Aww..." I found out that when the daughter asked her mom about her freckles, the mom told her they are the stars in the sky that have fallen to rest on her shoulders. That is a sweet mom.
Update: Cake Eyes
I was yet to look Cake Eyes in the shadow. She still had not said hello or smiled at me, but I haven't exactly made any efforts to be nice to her. She smiles at others and many of the customers love her, so I knew there is a cool lady in there somewhere. Surely she couldn't strongly dislike me for showing up late once. I went to pick up baskets and put them away and when I crossed paths with Cake Eyes I smiled and said hi. She smiled too and responded with a hello! Wow, a little bit of tension released.
Doin' Good in Texas
"How are you doing?" is the first question I ask all of my customers, but rather than responding with, "I'm doing well," or "I'm alright," the majority of people here respond with, "Doin' good." Often it is said twice, "Doin' good. Doin' good." You may laugh, but sometimes the longer you hear a certain colloquial phrase, no matter how poor the grammar, you begin to speak that way as well. I found myself answering the same question from my customers with a "Doin' good." At first I wanted to slap myself in the face immediately after I say it, but I have gotten over it. When in Rome...
I met Speedy on the first day of work. I noticed she liked to check out groceries very incredibly fast. Good for her. I'm not going to do that shit. She must always be doing something at all times. She prides herself on being "better" (meaning: faster) than everyone else at this job. She wasn't very talkative or minutely sociable so I moved to another cashier. Today, she was in the register behind me. No small talk. Not mean, but not nice either. No fun. She has the pride of Pedantic Joe, but lacks the kindness. She has the one word replies of Copy Cat, but not because she is shy (or socially awkward) but because she doesn't want to talk to you. On a scale of bearable to unbearable people I don't prefer to work near, she leans toward unbearable. I wonder if this is an initial period of "player hatin'" for new employees. I have a feeling Speedy will turn around. Being this negative has to be too tiring for her to keep it up.
Old Man #2
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: I am fantastic!
ME: Wow, it's so refreshing to see a really happy person.
OLD MAN: Darling, at my age? I'm just thrilled to be alive!
He winked, and smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen. Everyone should be just as thrilled to be alive, everyday.
Cashier Contest
Holy shit. Cashier contest. I love these. The co-op I worked for in Indiana had a cashier contest to raise the money for the Hoosier Hills food bank. I raised the most, something like $1200 by myself and won a gift basket with a gift card to the co-op. The prize, at this current store I work for, is a $50 gift card to the person who has the highest percentage of customers sign up for our mailing list on Friday through Sunday. I went in with guns blazing. I got around 90-95% of my customers to sign up the first day. Upon turning in all of my mailing list slips, my front end manager was ultra impressed.
MANAGER: Holy crap, you got this many customers to sign up?
ME: Yep! I want that gift card. Free wine and beer.
MANAGER: Well keep this up and you'll win that contest next weekend, for sure!
ME: Um...........................................................................it didn't start today?
MANAGER: Next weekend.
I officially don't give a crap about this contest.
Cute Guy, Maybe
I think I read something at some point from a Sociology book about how our attractions toward others are shifted and altered by proximity, exposure and environment. So, maybe I only found this guy attractive because he is the only good looking one working in the store, not because he is Don Draper. It could have also been because he was five registers away and I couldn't see him clearly, a "buen lejos" (good from far away), as a friend used to call guys who are cuter from the other side of the room. I decided to say hi, with the intent to maybe flirt if I discovered he wasn't a weirdo. As I greeted him, he began to check out a customer's groceries and I helped bag. After the customer left I asked about how busy the store had been so far and how new was he to the job. He replied, animatedly, but with his back facing me. Was he actually responding to me or was he having a conversation with an invisible person? Should I leave them alone? Hmm. I later found out he is the son or grandson of the president of the company. He doesn't really converse with anyone, I learned. The dichotomy among the cashiers, as far as how kind people are, was becoming more clear with each new person I met. It is disappointing to find that there are people who are not cool or fun to be around. Thankfully, there are more pleasant people than there are unpleasant.
Freckles
ME: [to a young girl standing in line waiting for her parents to load groceries on the belt, I smiled] Hi there! I think you have the cutest freckles!
LITTLE GIRL: [instantly frowns, followed by a dirty look]
MY INNER MONOLOGUE: Ummm, shit. Say something else!!!!
ME: Are you enjoying your vacation?
LITTLE GIRL: [smiles (thank goodness)] Yes!
ME: What grade are you in?
LITTLE GIRL: Goin' into second gwade.
ME: Cool! What is your favorite subject?
LITTLE GIRL: Eatin'!
Then we laughed. Whew...
I have never understood how anyone could not like their freckles. I think they are unique and beautiful and super adorable on kids. Later in the day another customer came in whose daughter was as freckled as the last kid. I made the same compliment. The little girl thanked me. So did the mom, as she had the same freckles her daughter had. I told her about the previously mentioned kid and the mom responded with an "Aww..." I found out that when the daughter asked her mom about her freckles, the mom told her they are the stars in the sky that have fallen to rest on her shoulders. That is a sweet mom.
Update: Cake Eyes
I was yet to look Cake Eyes in the shadow. She still had not said hello or smiled at me, but I haven't exactly made any efforts to be nice to her. She smiles at others and many of the customers love her, so I knew there is a cool lady in there somewhere. Surely she couldn't strongly dislike me for showing up late once. I went to pick up baskets and put them away and when I crossed paths with Cake Eyes I smiled and said hi. She smiled too and responded with a hello! Wow, a little bit of tension released.
Doin' Good in Texas
"How are you doing?" is the first question I ask all of my customers, but rather than responding with, "I'm doing well," or "I'm alright," the majority of people here respond with, "Doin' good." Often it is said twice, "Doin' good. Doin' good." You may laugh, but sometimes the longer you hear a certain colloquial phrase, no matter how poor the grammar, you begin to speak that way as well. I found myself answering the same question from my customers with a "Doin' good." At first I wanted to slap myself in the face immediately after I say it, but I have gotten over it. When in Rome...
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Day Two
So, I was five minutes late to work. Don't be alarmed, this store has an insanely lenient late policy. Once you have been late 25 times up to 30 minutes late you get a verbal warning. After another several many times you get a written warning, several more times, a final warning, then after several MORE times, your employment will be terminated. I'll give you a moment to laugh...
So again, I was five minutes late to work. I felt bad, but not that bad. I live 30 minutes away from this place and I still wasn't used to the traffic or what not. You know, excuses.
Cake Eyes
Before going to my register I stepped into the office to tuck in my shirt. The head cashier walked up to me.
HEAD CASHIER: What time did you punch in?
ME: Agh, five minutes late. I'm sorry.
HEAD CASHIER: [Hands me a sheet of paper] This is the new attendance policy. Give it a read, sign it and hand it in. It's a new point system. Every time you are late you get 1/2 a point penalty. Once you accumulate (whatever many, I wasn't really listening) points you lose your job. [She then turns away and goes back to her register]
Not a new attendance policy. This was the first thing I checked in the employee manual. The second thing I checked was vacation policy. This head cashier is an older woman with poorly dyed red hair. Over her eyelids she applies so much pasty blue eye shadow you would think it was war paint. Makeup, for many women, is useful for bringing out or emphasizing one's natural beauty. Cake Eyes had so much on her eyelids, above and below the crease, that you could see every wrinkle (every seemingly bottomless crevice) under the shadow. Her mother had failed her in this department.
Cake Eyes put me in a funk because never, before or after giving me the attendance policy speech, did she say, "Hi. How are you doing? What happened this morning?" She never talked to me for the rest of the day except to say, "You can go on break now." She was so nice to me the previous day. We talked about families. She apparently has a daughter who is training to supervise celebrity tours in Disneyland. I thought that was pretty cool. I wondered if my being five minutes late made things inconvenient for her or anyone else. Since there were only three customers in the store, they were fine. If it takes being late 25 times to get a verbal warning, why was I getting one now?
Sally Spec: Prologue
I learned that employees with long hair had to tie hair up. I immediately noticed a bunch of girls that had their hair down. I asked around if the head cashiers took that rule seriously. I heard from several that as long as your hair is out of your face it's cool. AWESOME. My hair is my favorite thing about my physical appearance. I was glad it wouldn't have to be in a bun or ponytail all summer. Two days later one of the cashiers came up to me and said, "You have to tie your hair."
I turned around and noticed other girls with their hair in buns. I learned later that we were ratted out. Some girl complained that she is the only one tying up her hair, that is what she was told to do in training and no one else was following the rules. I wanted to know who this girl was so I could instantly NOT like her.
Sally Spec: Chapter One
I found out who complained. I ended up having to work in the register next to her. I walk up to put my till in the register and she points out the "new" attendance policy to me right away, just like Cake Eyes.
SALLY SPEC: If you are late you get 1/2 a point.
As if I can't fucking read.
ME: Eh, it will be fine.
SALLY: But if you acquire [whatever many points, I wasn't fully paying attention] you'll get fired.
ME: I DON'T PLAN ON BEING LATE EVERYDAY!
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, inhale...exhale...
Okay, so I lost my cool. I didn't want to go there again. I would not go there again. I chose to do what I always do when a coworker pisses me off, I turned my focus to the customers. I was instantly cheered up by a little girl who did this:
My next customer pays with cash and hands me a twenty dollar bill and once the register opened I realized I never broke open the rolls of coins]
ME: [to the customer] Oops! I knew I was forgetting something!
SALLY: [turns to me] Before you start checking out customers, you need to open all of the rolls of coins.
ME: I know, I always do. Like I said, I forgot.
SALLY: Oh.
Later...
ME: [to the CUSTOMER, while ringing in poblano peppers and looking for the code in a code book] I believe poblano peppers are listed as pasilla green peppers. [then I found the code]
SALLY: Those are listed as pasilla green peppers, number [I don't fucking remember, I fucking hate this bitch]
ME: I got the number already.
...and later...
BITCH: [cleaning up papers and return items between registers] I am a clean freak, I need to have my side of this surface clean.
ME: [pulls out blank receipt paper, writes note to self: "Make a bigger mess."]
This girl has nothing better to say me. No friendly talk, just waiting for and pointing out my sporadic flaws. I think she thinks she is being helpful, or maybe she and Elvira are in this together and they are out to get me.
Sally Spec: Epilogue
In her last 30 minutes of working next to me, Sally turns around.
SALLY: Does you head ever hurt from having your hair in a ponytail for a long time?
ME: Yeah, I try to keep my hair loosely tied so it doesn't hurt.
Holy shit, progress. She went from pointing out my flaws to complaining about her own problems. I'll take it.
The Parent Teacher
Screaming toddlers frequent grocery stores all of the time, most of the time it's because they didn't get whatever nutritionally deficient food item they wanted. I have prompts for every time a child screams or cries in my line, one of which is, "Awwww, life is hard..." The parent usually laughs. I have seen really awesome parents ignore the screaming child, unwilling to respond and enable this bad behavior. I have seen other parents give the child whatever they want (this child is likely to scream again). I thought I had parents properly categorized until this one particular dad walked up with his toddler. The toddler was making a noise that was the most unpleasant of all, a grating scream/yell. The dad had just taken a bag of cashews away from the toddler so that I could ring it in. Oh hell, the screaming. When the child turned his face, I noticed he had down syndrome.
The father smiled at the child and hugged him. The child would scream again, then the father would hug him and kiss him on the cheek. This happened over an over until it was time to pay for groceries. I handed the dad the cashews to give back to the boy and the dad swiped his credit card. I tried my best to distract the boy while his dad was busy but the boy went silent and gave me the "stranger danger" vibe. Good boy. I handed the father his receipt, he gave his son another smile, hug and kiss and went on his way. I was so thankful to witness this. It was the definition of love.
Old Man #1
ME: Hi! How are you doing today?
OLD MAN: [no response]
ME: Did you find everything okay?
OLD MAN: [no response, pressed lips in a slight frown]
Okay, I get it. For whatever reason this guy does not want to talk.
ME: Credit or debit?
OLD MAN: [no response]
Damn. Okay, can't win this one over. I handed him his receipt and upon taking it he looked up at me, smiled and said, "Hi!"
Thor
This 9 or 10 year old kid would grab every bag of groceries after my coworker helped bag them. He would hang the thin bags over both elbow joints and he would pose in a "tickets to the gun show" kind of way. As the bags accumulated I knew the groceries had to be getting dangerously heavier for this kid. He assured me he was fine. You can guess what happened next...
I Have Tattoos and I Don't Want To Talk
A twenty something female walks through my line wearing sunglasses. When I asked her how she was doing I'm sure she might have said, "Fine." At least I saw her lips form what looked like the word, maybe. The rest of the responses were similar. Mouth movement, no audible sound. She had a big colorful tattoo all of the way down her arm. I asked her how long it took to get the tattoo, she replied, "It took three months." Success! An actual audible sentence! I then told her I had a tattoo, but that it only took 15 minutes and it hurt like hell. She did not give a shit. With most people that have tattoos it is pretty easy to strike up a conversation about body art. Not with this girl. She just wanted to get out. Hint taken. Okay, get this girl out of here. Then her receipt printed and it looked like this:
The Infamous Patti
Ever since I got to this store I was told that a head cashier was on vacation who I would probably end up hating to work with. The day before Patti showed up, I was closing out my drawer with another head cashier. "Patti is coming in tomorrow. You have fun with that," and she laughed. I asked what was wrong with Patti. I was given a long list of why Patti is hard to work with, including being really slow. I wasn't sure to trust that. I don't like it when anyone talks shit about someone else to make up my mind for me about how I am not going to like this person. The next day came and Patti showed up in the middle of my shift after the warm welcome from Cake Eyes and Sally Spec. Patti walks right up to me.
PATTI: Hi! I heard you snuck in while I was on vacation! I'm Patti, are you Miranda? [she shakes my hand] It's so nice to meet you.
Patti was quick to respond to my pages, she helped bag my customers' groceries and joined in on my conversations with them. Then when I had to close out my drawer Patti was swift. She was neither slow nor difficult to work with and she was kind. Why all of the shit talking? What the hell is wrong with people?
Dirty Harry
It had been a long semi-miserable day at work. The only thing that got me through the worst parts of it was the fact that it was all good writing material. One of my last customers walks up to me. He is wearing a dirty t-shirt and his hands and arms were dirty. He handed me his drink and food and smiled big with the most kind greeting I had heard all day.
HARRY: How are you doing today?
ME: I'm great. Thanks for asking! How are you?
HARRY: I'm doing fantastic. Today is a good day.
ME: [relieved] Wow, thank you so much for being happy and positive.
HARRY: Sure! There's no sense in goin' through life hatin' life.
...and that is the gospel truth.
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