A couple days ago I asked Cute Guy what was bothering him. He looked so bummed out. He told me he hates this job. I asked him why he is doing it. Why doesn't he just switch to another department? He is the son of the president of the company for Christ's sake! Today, he and I worked next to each other. I was bagging groceries for him as his customer kept pulling food out of her grocery cart, more than it seemed the cart could hold.
ME: [to Cute Guy] your customer has a clown cart.
CUTE GUY: [stares at me with confusion] What?
ME: Your customer, her cart is like a clown car. Things keep coming out of it.
CUTE GUY: Oh.
No "Oh yeah, haha," from CG. Hmm. Not too incredibly bright and he hates this job. Yet, I am not sold on the idea that this is a dumb apathetic guy. Behind his vacant expression is a reason for the way he currently is and of course, I want to know what that is. We talked about plans for the night. I planned to hit the Ritz Carlton in Dallas with my girlfriends. He asked me why. "To wear nice dresses, drink martinis and have fun," I replied. I told him I would surely be hungover the next day and I admitted it wouldn't be the first time. In return, CG admitted to me something as well.
CUTE GUY: Yeah, I drank a little too much last night. I blacked out.
ME: Yikes. How are you feeling now?
CUTE GUY: Fine. I'm used to it.
Awesome. I'm either talking to the male Snooki or there is a reason he drinks to a blacked out state regularly. Our drinking stories have bonded us somehow. After I came back from a break, he asked me how it was. He NEVER engages in a conversation. I always do the talking. He must be getting more comfortable with me.
Children of the Corn
Why today? I saw the worst kid fit ever. A mother was putting groceries on the belt, lastly taking a box of fruit chews away from her 2 year old so I could ring it in. Oh my god. From the moment that box left the little girl's fingers she broke into what I could only describe as a screaming seizure. It began silently, arms flailing and torso whipping around while legs kicked in random directions, then came the scream...a dog murdering, multi-pitched, high scream. If the Nazgul from Lord of the Rings had a baby with a velociraptor, it would sound like this girl. I handed back the fruit chews immediately. The little girl went back to zero. It was impressive and irritating all at the same time.
I reached into my register's jar of organic lollipops and pulled out six of them. Then I waited.
Along came a family with three little kids who picked up everything they could grab and placed these things in different locations. The parents let them do it.
Next.
A mom walked up with her six year old son. He began taking food items out of the cart for his mother.
ME: That is so nice! Do you always help your mom like this?
[the boy nodded, the mom smiled]
ME: I love seeing kids help their parents.
MOM: He is a good kid.
After all of the groceries were bagged the mom began to wipe her card. I told the kid that he was going to get a surprise after his mom paid for groceries. I held up all six lollipops and I told the kid to choose whichever one he wanted. He was so happy. He picked the blueberry flavor and said, "Thank you." I thanked him back for being helpful and a well behaved kid.
I only gave out two lollipops during the whole shift.
Update: Crazy Red-Head Vegan
We had a new manager who looked like a young pretty boy. I was taller than him, but he was good looking. I was instantly reminded of what a friend once told me, "Miranda, we are all the same size...in bed." I wasn't into the new manager, but it is always nice to see a good looking face if I have to look at any of the guys here for any reason.
CRV and Sally Spec were diggin' on the new manager hard. They were staring at him up and down. They walked up to my register and told me to check him out with them. I said I can't have a thing for any guy who looks like I babysat him at one point. CRV disagreed.
CRV: Girl, I'm a vegan, but I'd eat that."
Update: Tangly Q
I recognized the girl as soon as I saw her, the cute little toddler who had beautiful spiral curlsfrom one of the first days I had worked at this store. With her was the same mom, but this time her hair didn't look like it was dipped in KY. It was blown out and wavy. Interesting.
ME: [to the little girl] Beautiful hair!
[the mom rolled her eyes]
ME: So how are you doing today ma'am?
[the mom ignores me and swipes her card]
ME: Having a good Friday so far?
[she ignores me again]
I thought about complimenting her hair which I first saw crusted down with gel a few weeks ago, but I chose not to. What an ugly wench. I didn't give a lollipop to this kid and I should have. She was behaving, the only one who didn't deserve a pop was her mother, who I was worried about pissing off. I didn't look at that woman when I handed over the receipt. I smiled at her pretty little daughter instead. I hoped again, that in the future, this little girl would be surrounded by much better people. Otherwise this baby will grow up not realizing how beautiful she really is.
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.
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.
