Showing posts with label Sweet Nate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sweet Nate. 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.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Day Thirty Seven
Update: No Shit Talking Rule
The "No Shit Talking" rule had been in effect for a little over a week. I was loving it. So were some of my fellow employees. I don't have to talk about other people behind their backs to be entertained at work, but I know that some of the younger employees have a harder time with this rule. The no shit talking rule happened because of serial shit-talking old ladies like O.C.Daisy and Cake Eyes, but young people like Sally Spec and Crazy Red Head Vegan had to work to talk about other things than the grumbling old ladies at work. Banshee (who is, by the way, looking more and more pregnant but apparently is not pregnant) told me that the new rule was drawing fire from angry older cashiers. I responded to Banshee by giving her a high five. The cashiers are going to grow up, damn it.
Rude Judy and the Central Market Boys
An unhappy looking woman came into my line with her sons. They had a ton of Central Market reusable bags that they handed to me to pack what would have been an insanely large amount of groceries. Thankfully, Sweet Nate came along to help me with this one. I began to ring in the food items, when I looked at the unhappy woman.
ME: Cheer up! Life is not THAT bad.
No response. I continued to scan groceries and attempted to talk to her again.
ME: Have any fun plans this weekend?
No response again. Maybe she was having a bad day. No smiling for this lady, not today. Nate began to bag the groceries and the unhappy lady started to order him around, telling him what to put in each bag. She took certain items out of certain bags and Nate had to correct the bag organization. Why didn't she just bag all of this her damn self? Why couldn't she get one of her useless sons to help so she can yell at one of them instead of my guy? She continued to speak condescendingly to Sweet Nate, which began to make me mad. Nate was annoyed but continued to help and be the only thing he knows how to be: nice. I couldn't figure out what her problem was. Some people have a bad day, but they tend to express their frustrations about the day. Some people are tired and don't feel like talking, but they aren't bitches about it. Some people experience loss or tragedy but still need their groceries. I can sense when people are sad, their expressions are morose and gloomy. I couldn't figure this one out. She was bossy, mean, unhappy and obsessive compulsive about what goes in what bag. The only thing I could imagine was that she was a recent divorcee...or soon to be.
After what seemed like an eternity of this bullshit, the transaction was finally over. After she paid, I tried one more time to talk to her.
ME: Here is your receipt. Have a nice day.
She didn't respond, she took the receipt and began walking away. After walking away five feet, I said one last thing.
ME: Next time use the word 'PLEASE'.
Bitch.
Buster and the Mayor of Crazyville
A relatively new grocery bagger, named Buster, seems to like bagging groceries for me. I noticed that he doesn't volunteer to bag for many other cashiers. I think he is dismissed by the others. He is kind of a lazy person and has to be constantly reminded of what to do, probably because he hates his job and doesn't want to do it, but he always seems to jump up to my register first when it gets busy. I do always make sure to include him in the conversation with customers, maybe that's why he is always willing to help me out.
This lady came into my line that was on her cell phone yelling at whoever was on the other side of the conversation. I ignored whatever she was saying and began to ring in her groceries while Buster helped bag. The woman finally got off the phone, dramatically scoffing and sighing.
BUSTER: Ma'am I began bagging in plastic. Is that okay or would you like paper?
WOMAN: [points at Buster] When you get married, you LISTEN to your wife!
ME: Ma'am? This is Buster, not your husband. Don't yell at him.
WOMAN: I just speak sternly. I never yell at people.
ME: You can stop pointing at him too, ma'am.
The crazy woman put her arm down and laughed...and for once, Buster wished he wasn't helping me.
Update: Cute Guy Maybe (Not Really)
My manager gave me an envelope during my shift. It was a birthday card (delivered two weeks late) from the president of the company, the father of Cute Guy. It seemed like forever ago that Cute Guy quit. I wondered how he was doing, how drunk he might be at that very moment, and how uninvolved or unaware his dad was of CG's suffering (Cute Guy's mom died in the past year). I hoped Cute Guy was doing alright, wherever he was.
Lazy Susan
A couple came into my line with a small basket of groceries. It was mostly the guy's groceries. The girl went second and only had a couple of things.
GIRL: I don't want these. [she hands me a bunch of grapes]
GUY: Just put those back yourself, it's right there [he motioned to a place ten feet away]
GIRL: She can put it back. [motioning to me]
GUY: [rolled his eyes, shaking his head]
After the guy's transaction was over I began to ring in the girl's groceries.
GIRL: I got $5.39 in cashews? Is that right?
ME: Yes. They are $8.99 a pound.
GIRL: Put it back. I am not paying five dollars for that.
ME: I can't put it back. Once you take food out of the bulk bins they are either purchased or thrown away. Never put back.
GIRL: I'm not going to get them.
GUY: Wow. [shaking his head]
Wow, indeed. How hard is it to check the price or use the scales available in the bulk section? What a wasteful, lazy person. Now I am throwing away $5 of cashews someone else could have eaten. Even her boyfriend thinks she is an embarrassment.
Scream Train
It was close to the end of the night when I heard it. Screaming. Happy screaming, but screaming nonetheless. The screamer was mobile. I looked toward the back of the store and could not locate the source. It went on for 20 minutes. I had to tend to customers and the screaming continued. Whatever it was, I was sure its head was rotating over its shoulders and an exorcism would have to take place.
Finally the screamer and his enabler came into view with his family to check out groceries in JV's line. An adult man was chasing around what looked like a two year old boy. The boy was adorable, but the screaming was not. The mother noticed all of us glaring and tried to ask the adult man to stop. He continued to make the kid scream and run around. I began to feel my head throbbing in pain. I blamed the mother. This was mostly the fault of the stupid adult male, but if the mother had a spine she could shut that shit down if she wanted to. They finally left when I saw my next customers. Two men and an adorable QUIET little girl. I pulled a quarter out of my pocket and made a quick transaction before helping these men out. I grabbed my container of lollipops and looked to the girl.
ME: For being so good and so quiet, you get to have a lollipop!
DAD: Ooh! What do you say?
GIRL: [in the softest whisper] Thank you!
Update: J.V.
My coworkers were pretty pleasant to be around today. I had some good conversations with JV, CRV and Gaythan toward the end of the night. JV has improved character-wise, but was still slightly arrogant. No customers were around. We were bored and JV began drumming on his counter.
ME: Are you a drummer?
JV: No.
ME: Were you ever a drummer or any kind of musician?
JV: No, but my mom teaches piano.
ME: So you grew up hearing music?
JV: Yup. If piano is the first instrument you play, it makes any other instrument easier to play.
ME: That is true, but only to a point with some students.
JV: Not true.
What the hell do I know?
ME: Can you think of any possible flaws of learning to play piano first?
JV: There are none.
ME: Yes there are. Think.
JV: [no response]
ME: When you touch a key on a piano, a pitch WILL come out. If a student is impatient and expects sound production to be as easy on a wind instrument or when singing, that can result in problems like too much air pressure, overly tight musculature, use of unnecessary muscles, or hyper-phonation.
JV: [begins to walk away to count down his till with Patti] Percussion doesn't have to worry about that. No lungs!
ME: You are abandoning the original argument!
He disappeared behind the office doors. Eventually he left and Patti walked up to me.
ME: I think he thinks that because his mother is a musician, that he is an authority on the subject as well. Like it's hereditary.
PATTI: [laughing] After you said the last thing you said and the door shut, [JV] said, "God! She is just like me. She always has to have the last word."
We laughed. It's true. I do always like to have the last word. I'm sure it's irritating. Nobody is perfect.
The "No Shit Talking" rule had been in effect for a little over a week. I was loving it. So were some of my fellow employees. I don't have to talk about other people behind their backs to be entertained at work, but I know that some of the younger employees have a harder time with this rule. The no shit talking rule happened because of serial shit-talking old ladies like O.C.Daisy and Cake Eyes, but young people like Sally Spec and Crazy Red Head Vegan had to work to talk about other things than the grumbling old ladies at work. Banshee (who is, by the way, looking more and more pregnant but apparently is not pregnant) told me that the new rule was drawing fire from angry older cashiers. I responded to Banshee by giving her a high five. The cashiers are going to grow up, damn it.
Rude Judy and the Central Market Boys
An unhappy looking woman came into my line with her sons. They had a ton of Central Market reusable bags that they handed to me to pack what would have been an insanely large amount of groceries. Thankfully, Sweet Nate came along to help me with this one. I began to ring in the food items, when I looked at the unhappy woman.
ME: Cheer up! Life is not THAT bad.
No response. I continued to scan groceries and attempted to talk to her again.
ME: Have any fun plans this weekend?
No response again. Maybe she was having a bad day. No smiling for this lady, not today. Nate began to bag the groceries and the unhappy lady started to order him around, telling him what to put in each bag. She took certain items out of certain bags and Nate had to correct the bag organization. Why didn't she just bag all of this her damn self? Why couldn't she get one of her useless sons to help so she can yell at one of them instead of my guy? She continued to speak condescendingly to Sweet Nate, which began to make me mad. Nate was annoyed but continued to help and be the only thing he knows how to be: nice. I couldn't figure out what her problem was. Some people have a bad day, but they tend to express their frustrations about the day. Some people are tired and don't feel like talking, but they aren't bitches about it. Some people experience loss or tragedy but still need their groceries. I can sense when people are sad, their expressions are morose and gloomy. I couldn't figure this one out. She was bossy, mean, unhappy and obsessive compulsive about what goes in what bag. The only thing I could imagine was that she was a recent divorcee...or soon to be.
After what seemed like an eternity of this bullshit, the transaction was finally over. After she paid, I tried one more time to talk to her.
ME: Here is your receipt. Have a nice day.
She didn't respond, she took the receipt and began walking away. After walking away five feet, I said one last thing.
ME: Next time use the word 'PLEASE'.
Bitch.
Buster and the Mayor of Crazyville
A relatively new grocery bagger, named Buster, seems to like bagging groceries for me. I noticed that he doesn't volunteer to bag for many other cashiers. I think he is dismissed by the others. He is kind of a lazy person and has to be constantly reminded of what to do, probably because he hates his job and doesn't want to do it, but he always seems to jump up to my register first when it gets busy. I do always make sure to include him in the conversation with customers, maybe that's why he is always willing to help me out.
This lady came into my line that was on her cell phone yelling at whoever was on the other side of the conversation. I ignored whatever she was saying and began to ring in her groceries while Buster helped bag. The woman finally got off the phone, dramatically scoffing and sighing.
BUSTER: Ma'am I began bagging in plastic. Is that okay or would you like paper?
WOMAN: [points at Buster] When you get married, you LISTEN to your wife!
ME: Ma'am? This is Buster, not your husband. Don't yell at him.
WOMAN: I just speak sternly. I never yell at people.
ME: You can stop pointing at him too, ma'am.
The crazy woman put her arm down and laughed...and for once, Buster wished he wasn't helping me.
Update: Cute Guy Maybe (Not Really)
My manager gave me an envelope during my shift. It was a birthday card (delivered two weeks late) from the president of the company, the father of Cute Guy. It seemed like forever ago that Cute Guy quit. I wondered how he was doing, how drunk he might be at that very moment, and how uninvolved or unaware his dad was of CG's suffering (Cute Guy's mom died in the past year). I hoped Cute Guy was doing alright, wherever he was.
Lazy Susan
A couple came into my line with a small basket of groceries. It was mostly the guy's groceries. The girl went second and only had a couple of things.
GIRL: I don't want these. [she hands me a bunch of grapes]
GUY: Just put those back yourself, it's right there [he motioned to a place ten feet away]
GIRL: She can put it back. [motioning to me]
GUY: [rolled his eyes, shaking his head]
After the guy's transaction was over I began to ring in the girl's groceries.
GIRL: I got $5.39 in cashews? Is that right?
ME: Yes. They are $8.99 a pound.
GIRL: Put it back. I am not paying five dollars for that.
ME: I can't put it back. Once you take food out of the bulk bins they are either purchased or thrown away. Never put back.
GIRL: I'm not going to get them.
GUY: Wow. [shaking his head]
Wow, indeed. How hard is it to check the price or use the scales available in the bulk section? What a wasteful, lazy person. Now I am throwing away $5 of cashews someone else could have eaten. Even her boyfriend thinks she is an embarrassment.
Scream Train
It was close to the end of the night when I heard it. Screaming. Happy screaming, but screaming nonetheless. The screamer was mobile. I looked toward the back of the store and could not locate the source. It went on for 20 minutes. I had to tend to customers and the screaming continued. Whatever it was, I was sure its head was rotating over its shoulders and an exorcism would have to take place.
Finally the screamer and his enabler came into view with his family to check out groceries in JV's line. An adult man was chasing around what looked like a two year old boy. The boy was adorable, but the screaming was not. The mother noticed all of us glaring and tried to ask the adult man to stop. He continued to make the kid scream and run around. I began to feel my head throbbing in pain. I blamed the mother. This was mostly the fault of the stupid adult male, but if the mother had a spine she could shut that shit down if she wanted to. They finally left when I saw my next customers. Two men and an adorable QUIET little girl. I pulled a quarter out of my pocket and made a quick transaction before helping these men out. I grabbed my container of lollipops and looked to the girl.
ME: For being so good and so quiet, you get to have a lollipop!
DAD: Ooh! What do you say?
GIRL: [in the softest whisper] Thank you!
Update: J.V.
My coworkers were pretty pleasant to be around today. I had some good conversations with JV, CRV and Gaythan toward the end of the night. JV has improved character-wise, but was still slightly arrogant. No customers were around. We were bored and JV began drumming on his counter.
ME: Are you a drummer?
JV: No.
ME: Were you ever a drummer or any kind of musician?
JV: No, but my mom teaches piano.
ME: So you grew up hearing music?
JV: Yup. If piano is the first instrument you play, it makes any other instrument easier to play.
ME: That is true, but only to a point with some students.
JV: Not true.
What the hell do I know?
ME: Can you think of any possible flaws of learning to play piano first?
JV: There are none.
ME: Yes there are. Think.
JV: [no response]
ME: When you touch a key on a piano, a pitch WILL come out. If a student is impatient and expects sound production to be as easy on a wind instrument or when singing, that can result in problems like too much air pressure, overly tight musculature, use of unnecessary muscles, or hyper-phonation.
JV: [begins to walk away to count down his till with Patti] Percussion doesn't have to worry about that. No lungs!
ME: You are abandoning the original argument!
He disappeared behind the office doors. Eventually he left and Patti walked up to me.
ME: I think he thinks that because his mother is a musician, that he is an authority on the subject as well. Like it's hereditary.
PATTI: [laughing] After you said the last thing you said and the door shut, [JV] said, "God! She is just like me. She always has to have the last word."
We laughed. It's true. I do always like to have the last word. I'm sure it's irritating. Nobody is perfect.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Day Twenty Seven
Employee Depreciation Day
I had seen flyers about "Employee Appreciation Day" for a week now. There were going to be drawings, contests and food all day long. I was pretty stoked. I got to work at 4pm, only to find that all of the contests were over. Apparently Crazy Red-Head Vegan won a $25 gift card to Macaroni Grill. I went to the back room where I was told all of the food was located. All that was left was meat and cake. As a vegan, I was pretty bummed to see this. I didn't make my lunch because I thought I would somehow get fed. I grabbed a bottle of water and went up front to start my shift.
I can't believe how mad this made me. I couldn't be joyful in front of my customers, I couldn't even fake it. The flyers should have had a byline:
"Employee Appreciation Day: Unless you show up at 4pm and don't eat meat, hippie."
In a nutshell, the management was saying, "We appreciate the asshole who steals lunches from the break room more than we appreciate you, Miranda." The one girl who has celiac disease was covered because she made noise about it. Apparently she was the mad person last year. They provided her with gluten free hamburger buns.
I was the mad one this year. In addition to the appreciation day faux pas, every little irksome thing would disappoint me. Head cashiers would forget to put me on break and after many failed attempts to give them the "stink eye" I would just let myself on breaks. My customers and CRV tried to cheer me up but it was useless. CRV would have been as mad as I was if she didn't win that gift card.
It didn't make sense that I would be so angry. After all, my family's gatherings are a parade of cows and chickens and I never get mad at my relatives for being insensitive to my diet. I tried to figure out if something else was going wrong in my life or if I just need a break. Whatever it was, I was unhappy. I could do no better than be slightly melancholy but cordial toward the people who came in my line.
Victim #1
Yes, victims. I felt like all of my customers were victims of my sad service. I'm sure whatever these people did would have been blown off or otherwise gone unnoticed.
Along came a woman who stepped into my line. Just as I was about to grab her first item, another customer walked up to ask me a question. Since I paused to help the inquiring shopper, my current customer picked up her things and moved over to the next line, where she waited behind one customer. This little incident had me fuming like this guy:
Seriously? She couldn't wait 30 seconds?! In the time it took this woman to get through her new line, three customers flew through my line. With every single one of them I made sure to address how busy it is in the store and how great they were for being so chill about it. I said, "THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT," blatantly louder and louder with each new person. I was so obnoxious. I'm not proud of it.
Victim #2
A man walked up with a few items that my bagger placed in his reusable bag once I scanned them.
MAN: Dang, do you hate chicken or somethin'?
I stopped. I just realized was tossing all of his food items to the end of my counter. I looked to the right, over at his chicken, it was such a sad sight. It laid there, face down, more beaten and lifeless than it already was. I just then recalled the loud SLAP the chicken had just made against the surface.
ME: Oh my god, I am so sorry.
MAN: I was about to say...
ME: I can get you another chicken. I'm so sorry.
MAN: Bad day?
I admitted that I was in a mood. I apologized a million more times and he was forgiving. We eventually were laughing about it. He got me to laugh at myself a little. I appreciated that.
Sweetheart
I was jotting down notes on how much I hated my day as my next customer walked up. I kept writing as she put groceries up on the belt. I saw a divider go up and out of the corner of my eye, I saw this woman's little daughter put some candy in the front of the belt.
DAUGHTER: I'm sorry I didn't bring my money.
I stopped writing. I looked up. This little girl had as much remorse on her face as she had in her voice.
MOTHER: It's alright sweetheart, you can pay next time.
ME: Does she usually pay for her sweets?
MOTHER: She likes to earn money and spend what she earns.
I felt my spirits lifting. What an angel. As the receipt printed, I gave a lollipop to the girl, who was chewing on the sweets her mom bought for her.
MOTHER: Aw, isn't that nice? What do you say, sweetheart?
[she didn't respond, because she was chewing]
ME: It's okay, she's chewing and doesn't want to talk with her mouth full.
DAUGHTER: [finally done chewing] Thank you. [she smiled, then popped another piece of candy in her mouth]
ME: You know what? I think you are the best human being I have met all day.
DAUGHTER: [chewed for a while (again), then after she swallowed her candy she laughed and spoke] Thank you.
I laughed, so thankful for this little person.
Physicist
It was enough of a blessing seeing Sweetheart, but along came another gem. This young boy was begging his mom for a National Geographic magazine.
MOM: Fine, you can have it but it is coming out of your allowance.
BOY: Yesssssssssssss.
If this was any ordinary kid begging for candy, I might have been annoyed but I found this adorable.
ME: Are you really interested in science?
BOY: Uh huh!
MOM: He LOVES science.
ME: What is your favorite science? [the boy had his head dug into the magazine already and he wasn't paying full attention]
MOTHER: He LOVES physics.
ME: Physics, huh? [the boy nodded enthusiastically] What do you want to be when you grow up?
BOY: A physicist! [I should have known he would say that]
ME: Ha! What kind?
He shrugged his shoulders and kept reading. He had not made it that far, nor does he have to. I loved that he was so into learning. He was cheesing from the very moment his mom let him have that magazine. That kind of happiness is contagious, I couldn't help but smile.
Perspective
I had a slew of customers that put my mind right, starting with those kids and ending with this next woman. She, an amputee, rolled up in a wheelchair, got out of it, placed all of her groceries on the belt and greeted me with the biggest smile I had seen all day. I checked out her groceries, we laughed about the unreal power of the bulk section's dark chocolate and then she hopped up to the card reader to pay. She got around quick and was very friendly. I began to offer her help outside but before I could finish my sentence she had already grabbed her food and was waving me goodbye. The whole thing happened so fast I had to think about it for a while after she left.
I wondered what happened to her, how did she lose her leg? She was so happy and kind, she must have an amazing support system. Did she escape death or was this a card she was dealt at a young age? There she went, like a bolt, off to do the next thing and here I was, bitching about employee appreciation day with both of my legs. I became instantly embarrassed about the way I had acted all day.
Sweet Nate
If I were to have a motorcycle gang of hit men ala The Lincoln Lawyer, I would imagine they would be grown up versions of our grocery baggers. I should say my grocery baggers. These young guys go to bat for me every time. Even if another person's line is busier, they sometimes stick around mine and I appreciate it. Maybe that's because not many of the other cashiers talk to them. They are usually 16 or 17 years old where the rest of us are in our 20s, 30s and up. I always make sure to greet them and thank them for helping. It is a total luxury to have someone helping pack groceries, it makes everything go much faster and it also gives me more people to talk to. The grocery baggers make fun of me for not processing the fact that they are there to help sometimes. I'll sit there and chat with them while I pack my customer's things by myself.
Sweet Nate has made a point to announce that he is there to assist. He'll walk up and say, "Hello, Miranda. My name is Nate and I am here to assist you." This actually helps me to stop doing things by myself. Nate is always kind to the customers and his coworkers. He seems like the kind of guy that really respects his mother. You can always tell when a guy loves his mom. Another thing I adore about Sweet Nate is that he is constantly revealing his age. For example:
CRV: [Strangers in the Night plays overhead] Shoo-beeeee-doo-bee-dooooo....
NATE: Where are you!
ME: Um, Nate? That isn't the Scooby-Doo theme song.
NATE: Really?
...and laughter.
I had seen flyers about "Employee Appreciation Day" for a week now. There were going to be drawings, contests and food all day long. I was pretty stoked. I got to work at 4pm, only to find that all of the contests were over. Apparently Crazy Red-Head Vegan won a $25 gift card to Macaroni Grill. I went to the back room where I was told all of the food was located. All that was left was meat and cake. As a vegan, I was pretty bummed to see this. I didn't make my lunch because I thought I would somehow get fed. I grabbed a bottle of water and went up front to start my shift.
I can't believe how mad this made me. I couldn't be joyful in front of my customers, I couldn't even fake it. The flyers should have had a byline:
"Employee Appreciation Day: Unless you show up at 4pm and don't eat meat, hippie."
In a nutshell, the management was saying, "We appreciate the asshole who steals lunches from the break room more than we appreciate you, Miranda." The one girl who has celiac disease was covered because she made noise about it. Apparently she was the mad person last year. They provided her with gluten free hamburger buns.
I was the mad one this year. In addition to the appreciation day faux pas, every little irksome thing would disappoint me. Head cashiers would forget to put me on break and after many failed attempts to give them the "stink eye" I would just let myself on breaks. My customers and CRV tried to cheer me up but it was useless. CRV would have been as mad as I was if she didn't win that gift card.
It didn't make sense that I would be so angry. After all, my family's gatherings are a parade of cows and chickens and I never get mad at my relatives for being insensitive to my diet. I tried to figure out if something else was going wrong in my life or if I just need a break. Whatever it was, I was unhappy. I could do no better than be slightly melancholy but cordial toward the people who came in my line.
Victim #1
Yes, victims. I felt like all of my customers were victims of my sad service. I'm sure whatever these people did would have been blown off or otherwise gone unnoticed.
Along came a woman who stepped into my line. Just as I was about to grab her first item, another customer walked up to ask me a question. Since I paused to help the inquiring shopper, my current customer picked up her things and moved over to the next line, where she waited behind one customer. This little incident had me fuming like this guy:
Seriously? She couldn't wait 30 seconds?! In the time it took this woman to get through her new line, three customers flew through my line. With every single one of them I made sure to address how busy it is in the store and how great they were for being so chill about it. I said, "THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT," blatantly louder and louder with each new person. I was so obnoxious. I'm not proud of it.
Victim #2
A man walked up with a few items that my bagger placed in his reusable bag once I scanned them.
MAN: Dang, do you hate chicken or somethin'?
I stopped. I just realized was tossing all of his food items to the end of my counter. I looked to the right, over at his chicken, it was such a sad sight. It laid there, face down, more beaten and lifeless than it already was. I just then recalled the loud SLAP the chicken had just made against the surface.
ME: Oh my god, I am so sorry.
MAN: I was about to say...
ME: I can get you another chicken. I'm so sorry.
MAN: Bad day?
I admitted that I was in a mood. I apologized a million more times and he was forgiving. We eventually were laughing about it. He got me to laugh at myself a little. I appreciated that.
Sweetheart
I was jotting down notes on how much I hated my day as my next customer walked up. I kept writing as she put groceries up on the belt. I saw a divider go up and out of the corner of my eye, I saw this woman's little daughter put some candy in the front of the belt.
DAUGHTER: I'm sorry I didn't bring my money.
I stopped writing. I looked up. This little girl had as much remorse on her face as she had in her voice.
MOTHER: It's alright sweetheart, you can pay next time.
ME: Does she usually pay for her sweets?
MOTHER: She likes to earn money and spend what she earns.
I felt my spirits lifting. What an angel. As the receipt printed, I gave a lollipop to the girl, who was chewing on the sweets her mom bought for her.
MOTHER: Aw, isn't that nice? What do you say, sweetheart?
[she didn't respond, because she was chewing]
ME: It's okay, she's chewing and doesn't want to talk with her mouth full.
DAUGHTER: [finally done chewing] Thank you. [she smiled, then popped another piece of candy in her mouth]
ME: You know what? I think you are the best human being I have met all day.
DAUGHTER: [chewed for a while (again), then after she swallowed her candy she laughed and spoke] Thank you.
I laughed, so thankful for this little person.
Physicist
It was enough of a blessing seeing Sweetheart, but along came another gem. This young boy was begging his mom for a National Geographic magazine.
MOM: Fine, you can have it but it is coming out of your allowance.
BOY: Yesssssssssssss.
If this was any ordinary kid begging for candy, I might have been annoyed but I found this adorable.
ME: Are you really interested in science?
BOY: Uh huh!
MOM: He LOVES science.
ME: What is your favorite science? [the boy had his head dug into the magazine already and he wasn't paying full attention]
MOTHER: He LOVES physics.
ME: Physics, huh? [the boy nodded enthusiastically] What do you want to be when you grow up?
BOY: A physicist! [I should have known he would say that]
ME: Ha! What kind?
He shrugged his shoulders and kept reading. He had not made it that far, nor does he have to. I loved that he was so into learning. He was cheesing from the very moment his mom let him have that magazine. That kind of happiness is contagious, I couldn't help but smile.
Perspective
I had a slew of customers that put my mind right, starting with those kids and ending with this next woman. She, an amputee, rolled up in a wheelchair, got out of it, placed all of her groceries on the belt and greeted me with the biggest smile I had seen all day. I checked out her groceries, we laughed about the unreal power of the bulk section's dark chocolate and then she hopped up to the card reader to pay. She got around quick and was very friendly. I began to offer her help outside but before I could finish my sentence she had already grabbed her food and was waving me goodbye. The whole thing happened so fast I had to think about it for a while after she left.
I wondered what happened to her, how did she lose her leg? She was so happy and kind, she must have an amazing support system. Did she escape death or was this a card she was dealt at a young age? There she went, like a bolt, off to do the next thing and here I was, bitching about employee appreciation day with both of my legs. I became instantly embarrassed about the way I had acted all day.
Sweet Nate
If I were to have a motorcycle gang of hit men ala The Lincoln Lawyer, I would imagine they would be grown up versions of our grocery baggers. I should say my grocery baggers. These young guys go to bat for me every time. Even if another person's line is busier, they sometimes stick around mine and I appreciate it. Maybe that's because not many of the other cashiers talk to them. They are usually 16 or 17 years old where the rest of us are in our 20s, 30s and up. I always make sure to greet them and thank them for helping. It is a total luxury to have someone helping pack groceries, it makes everything go much faster and it also gives me more people to talk to. The grocery baggers make fun of me for not processing the fact that they are there to help sometimes. I'll sit there and chat with them while I pack my customer's things by myself.
Sweet Nate has made a point to announce that he is there to assist. He'll walk up and say, "Hello, Miranda. My name is Nate and I am here to assist you." This actually helps me to stop doing things by myself. Nate is always kind to the customers and his coworkers. He seems like the kind of guy that really respects his mother. You can always tell when a guy loves his mom. Another thing I adore about Sweet Nate is that he is constantly revealing his age. For example:
CRV: [Strangers in the Night plays overhead] Shoo-beeeee-doo-bee-dooooo....
NATE: Where are you!
ME: Um, Nate? That isn't the Scooby-Doo theme song.
NATE: Really?
...and laughter.
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