Showing posts with label Pedantic Joe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pedantic Joe. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Day Forty Two
I came to work early before my 8am shift. I was tired, again. Last night I split a bottle of wine with a friend whose ex-boyfriend cheated on her a few months ago. Breakups are hard and there is a process that follows the demise of most long term relationships. This wasn't the hang where you get your friend drunk so they don't have to feel anything, it was a follow up. You don't leave until your friend is done talking and you have cussed enough about her ex to increase her morale. That's what friends are for, even if it means sleep deprivation.
I told my first customer to "have a nice day" without asking him to pay for his groceries. He laughed as he took out his credit card. Awesome. I wasn't looking forward to another day like this.
Withdrawal: Stingwich
I had made several stingwiches up to this point. All good looking sandwiches of varying type and packaging. None of them had been eaten. I decided to ask around to see if anyone's lunch had been stolen lately. I talked to Elvira, Vitamin Girl and Pedantic Joe* (who left cashiering for working in grocery) and it seemed that no thefts had been made lately. I also found out that a lot of people have started locking up their lunch bags in the lockers. Did a rumor of a sandwich laced with Ex-Lax scare the selfish lunch thief from stealing food from the fridge? I shouldn't have told Crazy Red Head Vegan about the stingwich, but then again, if the thefts have stopped because of her warning then I should consider this mission a half success. I don't have to have the satisfaction of knowing that someone has downed 2-3 doses of Ex-Lax because he stole a sandwich that wasn't his and who knows, maybe this is somewhat illegal. What if the thief had an allergic reaction to the drug? Then I would be in deep shit. No pun intended.
*traitor
Old Lady #13
An old lady in a purple muumuu with a bandana over her head came into my line with a lot of groceries. After checking her out I asked her if she would like help going out to her car. She said, "Yes." Sweet Nate came along to push her cart but when he got close to it she wouldn't let him push. She just let him walk her to her car while she pushed her cart. It was a funny thing to see. Nate told me that she let him help put the groceries in the trunk but she was putting in groceries too. She let him put the grocery cart back but only because he offered. I wondered if she had issues with getting older and didn't want anyone to think she needed help. Maybe she was a feminist, letting men help when she says so! I envisioned the woman on the retro "Yes We Can" poster, except elderly and in a purple muumuu.
Old Lady #14
Another old lady came into my line with a ton of groceries as well. This woman let people help her. I shared the story of the woman with the purple muumuu with this lady.
OLD LADY: One of the perks of getting old is retiring and having people do things for you!
ME: Right? I kind of want to be old right now.
OLD LADY: No you don't. The thing that stinks about getting old is that your looks go away.
ME: I would think that depends on who's looking.
OLD LADY: I used to get complimented on my full lips. Not so much anymore.
ME: Well I think you're pretty!
OLD LADY: Aw! Thank you dear.
She smiled and walked away with Nate pushing her cart. She needed to hear that. I thought about how I might age. Would I think that I'm unattractive just because I'm not young anymore? Nope. I plan to be aware of what beauty is at every age.
Stynk Eye
The Infamous Patti came into work with what looked like pink eye. She assured us that it was a stye. Still, it was hard to look at Patti's face. I urged her to go get an eye patch so that she doesn't frighten customers into thinking they are going to take pink eye home with their groceries. Roz had Patti do a lot of office work because of the stye, increasing head cashier duties for O.C.Daisy. Daisy was still in training mode and made mistakes so she was too humble pie to do the things that irritate me.
Update: Miranda and the Gang
Miranda and her sisters came through my line today. It was Miranda's birthday! I bought lollipops for the girls as usual and I gave Miranda a second one for her special day. I let them know that I was only going to be there for two more weeks. When I told grandmother that I was a musician she told me that she went to the Eastman School of Music for voice when she was young. Awesome! She wished me luck with my career and they left to celebrate with cake and ice cream. People like Miranda and her family are what I will miss the most about working in this place.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Day One
I have been a grocery cashier for four different companies in my life until now. All of them were jobs I took up during the summer to make extra money while I am not in school. The best job of all of these was when I worked for a co-op grocer in Indiana five years ago. Here, I met every kind of person you could possibly meet, the rich, the poor and people of every combination of race and religion (atheists and agnostics as well). This range of clientele was nothing you would see at a commercial grocer. It was my job to greet everyone with a smile, to help people pack and pay for their groceries and to be kind. Aside from the regulars I expected everyday (one of my favorites was a transvestite named Rachel, a local restaurant owner, who purchased coffee and a bagel every morning, 8am, on the dot), I never knew who I was going to meet or who would effect me in a positive or negative way. One of my favorite things to do would be to make whoever walked in with a frown, leave with a smile or a laugh. My coworkers were some of the best and most interesting people I have ever met and I will never forget them. I do not exaggerate when I say that I grew the most as a human being during my time working at the co-op.
As writing has become more and more of a favorite hobby for me in recent years I kick myself in the butt for not having written down an account of my brief tenure at the co-op. Now that I have recently taken up a summer job working for a health food store (to get away from dissertation writing), I will be sure to write down notes on the most interesting people I meet each day. This is a dream for character development writing, as I do not have to make anything up and it all falls in my lap...or I guess it goes through my line. So here it goes, day one of the best and worst of everyone I meet at or near my register.
Buffalo Lady
A sweet looking woman in her 50s walked up to the register next to mine and said something like this:
" Hiiiiiiiii!!!!! Ohhhhhhh my goodness I love you guys so much! Do you know what they're selling at Kroger now? White Buffalo! And when the white buffalo died the Indians cried. I am pretty sure stress and saccharine gave my sister cancer, but she's okay now. The tomatoes in my garden are growing pretty big..."
I wish I could remember everything she said. She moved seamlessly from one unrelated topic to the next, somehow. After she left, my coworker looked at me with utter bewilderment. I smiled. Most entertaining customer so far. Talk about setting the bar high!
Copycat
I met Copycat on my first day of work. My boss told me to bag groceries for the cashiers and get to know them all. "Copycat" was the first one I met, at register 2. She was a very quiet and introverted girl and she answered any question I asked her with few words and a forced smile. I tried to get her to converse with me while we worked. She would hardly respond, so I chose to speak with her customers instead. The next customer walked up and I greeted her asking, "How are you doing today?" After the customer replied, Copycat asked, "How are you doing today?" Not only was this the most words I ever heard her say all at once, but she also repeated what I just said. This went on for ten minutes. I would ask a question to the customer and she would ask the same. When I laughed, she laughed. Improvement is improvement, I guessed. I moved to the next register over to meet another cashier.
Today, her shift ended while I was still working. She walked all of the way over to where I was standing, at register 8. She waved saying, "Bye Miranda," and she walked out of the store. She said goodbye to no one else. For a second I got a "Cable Guy" vibe, but I also wondered if she was just thankful to be out of her shell a little bit or maybe she just liked me as a person. Awkward as she may be, she seems like a nice girl.
Tangly Q
A woman walked through my line and I immediately noticed the awesome spiral curls on the toddler sitting in her grocery cart.
ME: [to the toddler] I love your hair! Wanna trade hair? You can have mine, I'll have yours.
TODDLER: [laughs and shakes head]
MOM: Ugh you couldn't run a comb through it if you tried. She's gonna grow up an those locks are going to dread up, that will probably be best.It's like my hair, you can't run a comb through it.
I looked at this woman's hair. She had it slicked down with gel. She cut bangs which were also slicked down hard with gel as straight as she could get them. People with curly hair like that (who know how to take care of it) NEVER run a comb or brush through it unless they are trying to tease it. The solution is to detangle curly hair with conditioner during bath or shower. I tried to offer a solution, but this woman cut me off mid sentence 5 times, talking about what a pain and mess her daughter's (awesome) hair is, over and over. Jesus. I felt so bad for that toddler.
Baby Mama
This crazy vegan red headed girl sings every song that is played on the radio station overhead, everyday. She is very nice and has been the most patient and encouraging one of all the new people I have met so far. I had to watch a Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission DVD in the break room for 2 hours then take several tests over what I learned from the main host, who looked like the love child of Joe Pesci and Andy Richter. Employees would come in and out of the room on their breaks and talk through the DVD. At one point, the crazy vegan girl was seated in the room with a girl from the vitamin department and a guy from the grocery department.
CRAZY VEGAN: [to grocery guy] How's your baby mama?
VITAMIN GIRL: You have a child?
GROCERY GUY: [hesitates, then says] Yeah.
CRAZY VEGAN: I was pregnant once.
VITAMIN GIRL: Really? How long?
CRAZY VEGAN: Six months.
VITAMIN GIRL: Oh, I'm so sorry.
It didn't seem like the guy wanted anyone else to know about that. To make up for her lack of discretion the vegan girl reveals personal information of her own. Is this how younger people talk now? Is everyone open about their baby mamas and miscarriages or abortions? It wasn't the content of the conversation that bothered me as much as the lack of privacy of information. I don't really trust crazy vegan girl, but I'm at least glad she is nice and pleasant to be around when we are working.
Making Things Interesting...
I learned how to page the head cashier from the overhead speakers in the store. Everyone usually speaks rapidly and repeats whatever they say once. I chose from then on to speak as slowly as I could get away with. When I said, "Code 1, register 5," I sounded like Ben Stein on the Clear Eyes commercials. Some of the dudes restocking shelves asked one of the girls up front who was talking so slow when paging. She pointed me out and said, "New girl." Some of them thought I was weird but one guy appreciated it. It's a good thing I don't give a shit.
Pedandtic Joe
Another cashier I met, who looks and talks like Michael Cera, would make a point of telling me every PLU code I couldn't come up with in two seconds. It drove me insane. He is young, 18 years old and he prides himself on knowing more codes than everyone else. The young ones do that. Call it insecure or over-competitive...or both. I figured he was just trying to be helpful, so I kindly assured him if he kept feeding me the PLUs that I would never learn them. From then on he chilled out. He is a nice kid.
Elvira
Elvira always wears a frown. When I tried to help her bag groceries on my first day, she wouldn't hand me any groceries. She packed them all herself, even if there was a boatload to handle. I wondered if she instantly didn't like me or if she preferred to work alone. I moved to help another cashier.
Today she was helping a girl bag groceries on the register behind me. I thought I could see through the corner of my eye that she was watching my screen for several minutes. I was ringing in a nice man's groceries when I caught myself entering the wrong PLU. As I began to enter the right one, Elvira shouts out the correct code from the grassy knoll. This was my second day. All anyone has said about me up to this point (to my face anyway), is how impressive my training was and how fast I learned codes (it didn't take much, this is the fourth time I'm learning them). Elvira had not said shit to me since I got here, not even returning a "hello." She carries with her a sphere of negativity that I refuse to absorb. All bitching aside, I know there is a good woman in there with a story to tell.
So...
I learned that this is NOT the co-op I used to work for. Still, I had met a lot of nice and interesting people. I noticed a lot of kids wore Hawaiian shirts and had their hair in mohawks. The elderly people I met were my favorite. I always asked to check their IDs when they bought wine. Some of them thought I was serious. The people I met made me forget that my feet hurt. I guess that is the power of human interaction.
As writing has become more and more of a favorite hobby for me in recent years I kick myself in the butt for not having written down an account of my brief tenure at the co-op. Now that I have recently taken up a summer job working for a health food store (to get away from dissertation writing), I will be sure to write down notes on the most interesting people I meet each day. This is a dream for character development writing, as I do not have to make anything up and it all falls in my lap...or I guess it goes through my line. So here it goes, day one of the best and worst of everyone I meet at or near my register.
Buffalo Lady
A sweet looking woman in her 50s walked up to the register next to mine and said something like this:
" Hiiiiiiiii!!!!! Ohhhhhhh my goodness I love you guys so much! Do you know what they're selling at Kroger now? White Buffalo! And when the white buffalo died the Indians cried. I am pretty sure stress and saccharine gave my sister cancer, but she's okay now. The tomatoes in my garden are growing pretty big..."
I wish I could remember everything she said. She moved seamlessly from one unrelated topic to the next, somehow. After she left, my coworker looked at me with utter bewilderment. I smiled. Most entertaining customer so far. Talk about setting the bar high!
Copycat
I met Copycat on my first day of work. My boss told me to bag groceries for the cashiers and get to know them all. "Copycat" was the first one I met, at register 2. She was a very quiet and introverted girl and she answered any question I asked her with few words and a forced smile. I tried to get her to converse with me while we worked. She would hardly respond, so I chose to speak with her customers instead. The next customer walked up and I greeted her asking, "How are you doing today?" After the customer replied, Copycat asked, "How are you doing today?" Not only was this the most words I ever heard her say all at once, but she also repeated what I just said. This went on for ten minutes. I would ask a question to the customer and she would ask the same. When I laughed, she laughed. Improvement is improvement, I guessed. I moved to the next register over to meet another cashier.
Today, her shift ended while I was still working. She walked all of the way over to where I was standing, at register 8. She waved saying, "Bye Miranda," and she walked out of the store. She said goodbye to no one else. For a second I got a "Cable Guy" vibe, but I also wondered if she was just thankful to be out of her shell a little bit or maybe she just liked me as a person. Awkward as she may be, she seems like a nice girl.
Tangly Q
A woman walked through my line and I immediately noticed the awesome spiral curls on the toddler sitting in her grocery cart.
ME: [to the toddler] I love your hair! Wanna trade hair? You can have mine, I'll have yours.
TODDLER: [laughs and shakes head]
MOM: Ugh you couldn't run a comb through it if you tried. She's gonna grow up an those locks are going to dread up, that will probably be best.It's like my hair, you can't run a comb through it.
I looked at this woman's hair. She had it slicked down with gel. She cut bangs which were also slicked down hard with gel as straight as she could get them. People with curly hair like that (who know how to take care of it) NEVER run a comb or brush through it unless they are trying to tease it. The solution is to detangle curly hair with conditioner during bath or shower. I tried to offer a solution, but this woman cut me off mid sentence 5 times, talking about what a pain and mess her daughter's (awesome) hair is, over and over. Jesus. I felt so bad for that toddler.
Baby Mama
This crazy vegan red headed girl sings every song that is played on the radio station overhead, everyday. She is very nice and has been the most patient and encouraging one of all the new people I have met so far. I had to watch a Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission DVD in the break room for 2 hours then take several tests over what I learned from the main host, who looked like the love child of Joe Pesci and Andy Richter. Employees would come in and out of the room on their breaks and talk through the DVD. At one point, the crazy vegan girl was seated in the room with a girl from the vitamin department and a guy from the grocery department.
CRAZY VEGAN: [to grocery guy] How's your baby mama?
VITAMIN GIRL: You have a child?
GROCERY GUY: [hesitates, then says] Yeah.
CRAZY VEGAN: I was pregnant once.
VITAMIN GIRL: Really? How long?
CRAZY VEGAN: Six months.
VITAMIN GIRL: Oh, I'm so sorry.
It didn't seem like the guy wanted anyone else to know about that. To make up for her lack of discretion the vegan girl reveals personal information of her own. Is this how younger people talk now? Is everyone open about their baby mamas and miscarriages or abortions? It wasn't the content of the conversation that bothered me as much as the lack of privacy of information. I don't really trust crazy vegan girl, but I'm at least glad she is nice and pleasant to be around when we are working.
Making Things Interesting...
I learned how to page the head cashier from the overhead speakers in the store. Everyone usually speaks rapidly and repeats whatever they say once. I chose from then on to speak as slowly as I could get away with. When I said, "Code 1, register 5," I sounded like Ben Stein on the Clear Eyes commercials. Some of the dudes restocking shelves asked one of the girls up front who was talking so slow when paging. She pointed me out and said, "New girl." Some of them thought I was weird but one guy appreciated it. It's a good thing I don't give a shit.
Pedandtic Joe
Another cashier I met, who looks and talks like Michael Cera, would make a point of telling me every PLU code I couldn't come up with in two seconds. It drove me insane. He is young, 18 years old and he prides himself on knowing more codes than everyone else. The young ones do that. Call it insecure or over-competitive...or both. I figured he was just trying to be helpful, so I kindly assured him if he kept feeding me the PLUs that I would never learn them. From then on he chilled out. He is a nice kid.
Elvira
Elvira always wears a frown. When I tried to help her bag groceries on my first day, she wouldn't hand me any groceries. She packed them all herself, even if there was a boatload to handle. I wondered if she instantly didn't like me or if she preferred to work alone. I moved to help another cashier.
Today she was helping a girl bag groceries on the register behind me. I thought I could see through the corner of my eye that she was watching my screen for several minutes. I was ringing in a nice man's groceries when I caught myself entering the wrong PLU. As I began to enter the right one, Elvira shouts out the correct code from the grassy knoll. This was my second day. All anyone has said about me up to this point (to my face anyway), is how impressive my training was and how fast I learned codes (it didn't take much, this is the fourth time I'm learning them). Elvira had not said shit to me since I got here, not even returning a "hello." She carries with her a sphere of negativity that I refuse to absorb. All bitching aside, I know there is a good woman in there with a story to tell.
So...
I learned that this is NOT the co-op I used to work for. Still, I had met a lot of nice and interesting people. I noticed a lot of kids wore Hawaiian shirts and had their hair in mohawks. The elderly people I met were my favorite. I always asked to check their IDs when they bought wine. Some of them thought I was serious. The people I met made me forget that my feet hurt. I guess that is the power of human interaction.
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