Update: Elvira
I was tremendously drowsy from taking a large dose of Benadryl last night. I didn't have time to make coffee or stop by Starbucks for a latte, so I settled for coffee samples at work. I was looking half dead, waiting for the breakfast blend to kick in when Elvira walked by my register. She stopped in front of me and gave me a funny look.
ELVIRA: Let me take a picture.
She pulled an imaginary camera out of her pocket and held it up to her face to capture the memory of my looking awful. I played along as if it were a zombie photoshoot.
ELVIRA: Smile!
I slackened my jaw.
ELVIRA: Beautiful.
Elvira being sarcastic? That's new. She has been super pleasant to be around lately. I think I am finally on her good side. Maybe she will let me help bag her groceries now.
Egypt
A beautiful (probably eternally youthful) woman with olive skin came into my line. We did the usualy greet and chat about the day. At one point she looked at my name tag.
WOMAN: Miranda. That is the name of one of my cousins in Egypt who I have not seen in 25 years.
ME: You must miss her.
WOMAN: I do.
ME: Well aren't things better in Egypt now? Maybe you can see her!
WOMAN: I wouldn't travel there now. The post-revolution in Egypt is messy.
We talked more about her family in Egypt. I shared my stories about traveling to India to see my family.
ME: Indians are a beautiful people but there are things that still need fixing in that country. Like bride burning.
WOMAN: Tell me about it. In my country if a man's shirt was burned with an iron, someone would die because of it. I thought, 'What is this stupidity?' So I moved to a better place. That was the only solution. We are lucky to live here.
She is right.
New Rules
More new rules? Mad Kathy informed me that when we are not cashiering we are to stand in front of our registers, like at other stores. Yeah, I will not be doing that. Walking in and out of our registers is a pain because two cashiers are in one pod of registers, there is only one small exit space and there are grocery baggers to climb over. That is one too many obstacles to get to the front of my register. I would hate to do this over and over all day only to find out that someone has seen me already and was on his or her way to check out wit me. There are only EIGHT registers. This isn't a super large corporate chain where a customer has 30 cashiers to choose from. If someone wants to buy their groceries, they will not have to travel far to find an open one. If a customer finds himself at a busy line, is in a rush and refuses to make the effort of rotating his head 30 degrees to find an available cashier, it is his fault...
...or maybe I am rationalizing because I am lazy and am apathetic to the new rule. A little of column A, a little of column B.
Sarah Palin
A woman walked into my line who looked EXACTLY like Sarah Palin. I couldn't help myself.
ME: Do people tell you that you look exactly like Sarah Palin?
WOMAN: All of the time. I even had this haircut and hairstyle before she came into the limelight.
ME: I'm kind of sad that you don't sound like her.
WOMAN: Sorry to disappoint you.
ME: I was sad when she didn't run for president because I was hoping to see more Tina Fey on Saturday Night Live.
WOMAN: Before everyone said I look like Sarah Palin they all said I look like Tina Fey.
ME: I wish some woman would run for president that looks like Kristen Wiig. That would be some comedy.
WOMAN: But what kind of woman would be good for a presidential run?
ME: I think the kind of woman I would want to vote for as president would not actually make a good presidential candidate. Not at the moment anyway. She would be too good of a person to be in Washington. She would be targeted by all of the backwards people in our country and all of the men who can't stand working for a woman.
WOMAN: She would have to be manipulative, that is for sure.
ME: Sadly enough.
Touchscreen Generation
For months now, I have watched people prod and poke the hell out of our non-touchscreen credit card reader. It is like watching a monkey try to get a banana out of a locked box. These people do everything but smash the card reader into the ground. I decided to fashion a small sign out of receipt paper to help my customers out. The sign read, "This is not an iPhone. Please use the electronic pen (I drew an arrow indicating its location) to make selections on the screen. The green "Yes" button is on the lower right hand side of the reader. DO NOT press the red button unless you want to cancel the transaction. Thank you."
I placed the sign on top of the reader. It helped everyone! For the next few hours, no one had problems with the credit card reader. No one prodded the shit of the non-touchscreen. Miracle of miracles! A couple of my customers and fellow cashiers saw the sign and laughed.
After a few hours, the Infamous Patti came up to me and removed the sign from my credit card reader.
PATTI: What is this? You can't have this up here!
She laughed and handed me the sign back. Silly old-fashioned Patti. This isn't hurting anyone! It's helping. After she left I put the sign back on. Patti came back about an hour later and took it down.
PATTI: Why did you put this back up? Roz told me to take it down and then you put it back up! You're going to get me in trouble! She is going to think that I am not listening to her!
ME: Oh! I didn't know that Roz told you to take it down! I'm sorry!
PATTI: Yes, Roz. Don't get me in trouble!
I felt bad. I liked Patti. I didn't want her to get in any trouble. I threw away the sign and watched as my customers continued to stab my credit card reader and cancel their transactions on accident. So much for clarity.
The Anti-Mexican
A woman came through my line who was checking stickers and labels on each one of her produce items.
WOMAN: Is there any way I can find out which vegetables and fruits do not come from Mexico without having to fish through that entire section? Is there a list anywhere?
ME: I don't think so. I buy mostly organic food. Whatever I buy that isn't organic are foods that no matter how or where they are grown, they are least likely to have a high amount of pesticide or chemical residues like asparagus, bananas or avocados. They can come from Mexico.
WOMAN: Organic food is too expensive and I'm not buying anything from Mexico.
I bit my tongue and decided not to waste my breath on this woman any longer. She bought her non-Mexican groceries and left.
Pesticides are everywhere, in every country. Some of the more dangerous pesticide-laden fruits and veggies to buy in conventional form are only dangerous to buy from Mexico because, in summary: Some forms of pesticide that were once available in the US became illegal for use here because its poisonous carcinogenic residues remained on plants well into the post rinse. What did the pesticide companies do? Export the pesticide to foreign countries like Mexico. Then what do American grocers do? Import fruits and vegetables from the very farms that bought our outlawed pesticides! How fucked up is that?
Again, this doesn't make ALL conventional fruits and veggies from Mexico potentially dangerous for consumption as I don't know which farmers in Mexico are growing their fruits and vegetables responsibly. The same damn thing could be said for farmers in America! I have read up on the 'conventional vs. organic' food topic quite a bit. What is safe? Buying organic forms of conventional fruits and veggies that tend to be high in pesticide residues like strawberries, apples, spinach and potatoes. Buy conventional forms of fruits and veggies that don't absorb the pesticides as much like asparagus, bananas, avocados and Brussels sprouts. There are LOADS sources on this topic that draw the same conclusion about produce that the anti-Mexican woman is apparently unwilling to search for or read. I shake my head.
Of course organic food is expensive. It is cheaper than ever because it is the fastest growing sector of the food market. All sorts of large food corporations are jumping on this band wagon. There are honest farmers out there that do grow their food responsibly but they can't afford the USDA organic label. Unfortunately, producing and selling organic food in America is costly. This is because integrity is not an industry standard. Money is in charge to the point of being a god. There are some extremely powerful people in charge of the food industry, in charge of many underpaid farmers, who are driven by multi-millions of dollars and they don't give a damn about who is ingesting what carcinogen. Then there is the GMO debate. Ugh. Read and watch documentaries about the food industry. Buy organic.
Off soapbox.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Day Thirty Eight
Update: Cake Eyes
It was 8am and I was alone with Cake Eyes on the front end. While checking out my own customers I listened to how she talked with her customers. She seemed to know her customers personally and she made good conversation with them. It makes sense. There are probably shoppers that come into the store on fixed days at fixed times. Cake Eyes is the only person who gets a fixed schedule, no wonder she has a lot of regulars. She opens the store at 7am and leaves at 2pm, Monday through Friday.
An hour later, Mad Kathy came in and we were discussing how I slammed my finger in my car door the previous night. It was bruised and I couldn't bend it. I took Advil for the pain but it didn't seem to work.
ME: I do have hydrocodone at home.
KATHY: That stuff works.
ME: Yeah I should take that, then I would be really entertaining at work.
CAKE EYES: [walked over to us] Did someone say hydrocodone?
ME: Yes. My finger is super bruised. I'm in extreme pain.
CAKE EYES: I take hydrocodone twice a day.
ME: Egads! Why do you take that much hydrocodone?
CAKE EYES: I have a bunch of rods and metal in my lower back. I can't stand for long.
ME: How did that happen?
CAKE EYES: When I was young I was a cheerleader. I practiced every day and every night. I jumped and I jumped and I tumbled millions of times over and over for years and years. I loved it but it messed up my back.
ME: Did you cheer in college?
CAKE EYES: No, but I did teach elementary school cheerleaders. I loved it.
Customers came along and cut our conversation short. Cake Eyes, cheerleader for life? She does still look like a cheerleader, just old with tons of eye shadow. She wears a khaki skirt and her hair in a ponytail everyday. Cheerleader. After her shift she came through my line with her usual two large bottles of Chardonnay. Chardonnay with hydrocodone. How the hell is she NOT in a coma?
ME: So when were you born?
CAKE EYES: I was born in 1955.
ME: Ah, you were a teen in the 70s. Did you wear bell bottoms?
CAKE EYES: Oh yeah, bell bottoms and flower power! Woo! [I handed her receipt and she walked off]
I was concerned for Cake Eyes but I was also glad that we were getting along better. I'm so glad that drugs and 70s fashion have allowed us to bond.
More New Rules
Roz came up to me to share the new attendance policy with me, which was probably inspired by me.
ROZ: New attendance rule. If you're late 8 times, you get an instant final warning. One more tardy after that? Your employment will be terminated.
ME: 8 times? Sheesh.
ROZ: If this was a rule before now, you would be in trouble.
True. I really should try to make it to work on time. The only fishy thing was, I never heard Roz share this new rule with anyone else. I also didn't have to sign anything indicating that I am aware of the new rule. Maybe they really just wanted me to show up on time and they were sending higher ups to scare me with more strict fake rules. Cute.
A Word of Advice:
Don't joke about cancer with the elderly.
ME: Hi! How is your morning going?
OLD LADY: Lovely! How about yours?
ME: Mine is great too! I got up early and walked the dogs. The weather is so nice before the sun comes up.
OLD LADY: I agree.
ME: It's nice to be outdoors without worrying that I going to get skin cancer. [I laughed]
She stopped talking to me. I felt like an ass. What if she had skin cancer? Her parents? Her friends? Stupid Miranda.
Update: Ryan and Sally Spec
Sally Spec came in with makeup on! She never wears make up. She has the kind of clean pretty face that doesn't need makeup.
ME: Your makeup looks nice!
SALLY: Yeah, Ryan (her boyfriend, our head cashier) has to work a 12 hour shift today. He is so tired already from working so much that I knew he would be in a bad mood, so I decided to look nice. I made his lunch and I baked him cookies.
ME: Girlfriend of the year!
SALLY: Yeah, I like him.
I watched whenever Sally and Ryan were talking by themselves. I saw Ryan smiling at Sally like he thinks she is the best girl ever. They are sweet.
Old Lady #12
An old lady bought groceries from my line and walked off to her car with her cart after checking out. A minute later she ran back in holding a bag of carrots.
OLD LADY: I'm so sorry dear. I almost stole these. Whew!
ME: A dollar of carrots? You crook!
OLD LADY: If ever go to jail, I'm going to go for a real reason.
Richard Gere: Part Three
Copycat went on break and she came through my line to buy some food. Every time Copycat buys things from my register, she greets me the exact same way even if she greeted me the same way three times that day so far.
COPYCAT: Hi. How are you doing today?
ME: You already greeted me that way. Greet me another way.
COPYCAT: Okay. [she thought for a while and nervously laughed] I don't know!
ME: You could say, "Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?"
COPYCAT: Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?
ME: Target! Can you believe it?
COPYCAT: Wow. I like it.
ME: Do you shop at Target?
COPYCAT: Sometimes I do with my sister.
That's when, behind Copycat's head, I saw Richard Gere walk in with basket in hand. I wanted to vomit. I finished my transaction with Copycat and timed out when exactly this sex addict-cheater-jerk would walk through my line. He is on a juicing diet so it wouldn't take him more than five minutes to gather whatever vegetables he needed. I waited three minutes and then I hid in the front office. Ryan came by.
RYAN: What are you doing?
ME: I'm hiding from someone.
RYAN: Who?
ME: This guy who cheated on one of my friends by soliciting sex to strangers, he is trying find out how my friend is doing through me and the very sight of him makes me want to vomit.
The manager-on-duty, named Jay, walked in.
JAY: What are you doing?
RYAN: She is hiding from someone.
JAY: Do we need to beat someone up?
I considered it.
ME: No. He needs to be paid no attention. I'm going to keep hiding.
I peaked out of the door. Richard Gere was in Crazy Red Head Vegan's line. I'm sure he was charming her in some way. Blech. I continued to hide. A minute later I looked and noticed he had left CRV's line. The coast was clear. I walked out of the office at the same time I noticed Richard Gere walking back to CRV's register. He had forgotten something. "Oh shit!" I thought and I broke into a sprint, running into the kitchen 20 feet to the left. I remained there for several minutes. There was no way Richard Gere would have missed seeing me running away at the sight of him. I might as well have stayed at my register and told him to his face that I don't want to talk to him...but this works too.
It was 8am and I was alone with Cake Eyes on the front end. While checking out my own customers I listened to how she talked with her customers. She seemed to know her customers personally and she made good conversation with them. It makes sense. There are probably shoppers that come into the store on fixed days at fixed times. Cake Eyes is the only person who gets a fixed schedule, no wonder she has a lot of regulars. She opens the store at 7am and leaves at 2pm, Monday through Friday.
An hour later, Mad Kathy came in and we were discussing how I slammed my finger in my car door the previous night. It was bruised and I couldn't bend it. I took Advil for the pain but it didn't seem to work.
ME: I do have hydrocodone at home.
KATHY: That stuff works.
ME: Yeah I should take that, then I would be really entertaining at work.
CAKE EYES: [walked over to us] Did someone say hydrocodone?
ME: Yes. My finger is super bruised. I'm in extreme pain.
CAKE EYES: I take hydrocodone twice a day.
ME: Egads! Why do you take that much hydrocodone?
CAKE EYES: I have a bunch of rods and metal in my lower back. I can't stand for long.
ME: How did that happen?
CAKE EYES: When I was young I was a cheerleader. I practiced every day and every night. I jumped and I jumped and I tumbled millions of times over and over for years and years. I loved it but it messed up my back.
ME: Did you cheer in college?
CAKE EYES: No, but I did teach elementary school cheerleaders. I loved it.
Customers came along and cut our conversation short. Cake Eyes, cheerleader for life? She does still look like a cheerleader, just old with tons of eye shadow. She wears a khaki skirt and her hair in a ponytail everyday. Cheerleader. After her shift she came through my line with her usual two large bottles of Chardonnay. Chardonnay with hydrocodone. How the hell is she NOT in a coma?
ME: So when were you born?
CAKE EYES: I was born in 1955.
ME: Ah, you were a teen in the 70s. Did you wear bell bottoms?
CAKE EYES: Oh yeah, bell bottoms and flower power! Woo! [I handed her receipt and she walked off]
I was concerned for Cake Eyes but I was also glad that we were getting along better. I'm so glad that drugs and 70s fashion have allowed us to bond.
More New Rules
Roz came up to me to share the new attendance policy with me, which was probably inspired by me.
ROZ: New attendance rule. If you're late 8 times, you get an instant final warning. One more tardy after that? Your employment will be terminated.
ME: 8 times? Sheesh.
ROZ: If this was a rule before now, you would be in trouble.
True. I really should try to make it to work on time. The only fishy thing was, I never heard Roz share this new rule with anyone else. I also didn't have to sign anything indicating that I am aware of the new rule. Maybe they really just wanted me to show up on time and they were sending higher ups to scare me with more strict fake rules. Cute.
A Word of Advice:
Don't joke about cancer with the elderly.
ME: Hi! How is your morning going?
OLD LADY: Lovely! How about yours?
ME: Mine is great too! I got up early and walked the dogs. The weather is so nice before the sun comes up.
OLD LADY: I agree.
ME: It's nice to be outdoors without worrying that I going to get skin cancer. [I laughed]
She stopped talking to me. I felt like an ass. What if she had skin cancer? Her parents? Her friends? Stupid Miranda.
Update: Ryan and Sally Spec
Sally Spec came in with makeup on! She never wears make up. She has the kind of clean pretty face that doesn't need makeup.
ME: Your makeup looks nice!
SALLY: Yeah, Ryan (her boyfriend, our head cashier) has to work a 12 hour shift today. He is so tired already from working so much that I knew he would be in a bad mood, so I decided to look nice. I made his lunch and I baked him cookies.
ME: Girlfriend of the year!
SALLY: Yeah, I like him.
I watched whenever Sally and Ryan were talking by themselves. I saw Ryan smiling at Sally like he thinks she is the best girl ever. They are sweet.
Old Lady #12
An old lady bought groceries from my line and walked off to her car with her cart after checking out. A minute later she ran back in holding a bag of carrots.
OLD LADY: I'm so sorry dear. I almost stole these. Whew!
ME: A dollar of carrots? You crook!
OLD LADY: If ever go to jail, I'm going to go for a real reason.
Richard Gere: Part Three
Copycat went on break and she came through my line to buy some food. Every time Copycat buys things from my register, she greets me the exact same way even if she greeted me the same way three times that day so far.
COPYCAT: Hi. How are you doing today?
ME: You already greeted me that way. Greet me another way.
COPYCAT: Okay. [she thought for a while and nervously laughed] I don't know!
ME: You could say, "Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?"
COPYCAT: Ooh! I like your ring. Where did you get that ring?
ME: Target! Can you believe it?
COPYCAT: Wow. I like it.
ME: Do you shop at Target?
COPYCAT: Sometimes I do with my sister.
That's when, behind Copycat's head, I saw Richard Gere walk in with basket in hand. I wanted to vomit. I finished my transaction with Copycat and timed out when exactly this sex addict-cheater-jerk would walk through my line. He is on a juicing diet so it wouldn't take him more than five minutes to gather whatever vegetables he needed. I waited three minutes and then I hid in the front office. Ryan came by.
RYAN: What are you doing?
ME: I'm hiding from someone.
RYAN: Who?
ME: This guy who cheated on one of my friends by soliciting sex to strangers, he is trying find out how my friend is doing through me and the very sight of him makes me want to vomit.
The manager-on-duty, named Jay, walked in.
JAY: What are you doing?
RYAN: She is hiding from someone.
JAY: Do we need to beat someone up?
I considered it.
ME: No. He needs to be paid no attention. I'm going to keep hiding.
I peaked out of the door. Richard Gere was in Crazy Red Head Vegan's line. I'm sure he was charming her in some way. Blech. I continued to hide. A minute later I looked and noticed he had left CRV's line. The coast was clear. I walked out of the office at the same time I noticed Richard Gere walking back to CRV's register. He had forgotten something. "Oh shit!" I thought and I broke into a sprint, running into the kitchen 20 feet to the left. I remained there for several minutes. There was no way Richard Gere would have missed seeing me running away at the sight of him. I might as well have stayed at my register and told him to his face that I don't want to talk to him...but this works too.
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.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Day Thirty Six
First Written Warning
Upon arrival I was notified that I had received my first warning. I had to sign and confirm that I had received this warning because my till was $10 over the previous day. This means someone did not get their change back. I felt bad about that. My first verbal warning was a money issue as well. Money issues. I am yet to be warned or reprimanded officially for being late...more than 30 times.
Observation
Whenever big grocery stores have giant sales, Hawaiian decor is always involved. Every time. The employees wear flowered leis and palm trees go up everywhere. Who started this trend anyway? Do sales whisk us away to a wonderful place where we have not a care in the world? No. Does anyone ever end up saving enough for a Hawaiian vacation? No. Yet, the bright colors and fake ocean sounds somehow make us all of a sudden covet this lower priced thing we don't need. Only in America. Just an observation.
Mad Kathy and Buffalo Lady
Buffalo Lady came into the my checkout line. The store wasn't very busy so I was happy to give her all of the attention in the world. The cashier next to me, a cool older lady named Kathy, joined in the conversation as well. Buffalo Lady spoke exuberantly, again seamlessly weaving through unrelated topics like depression drugs (she takes Cymbalta), people who love to climb like this guy named Chad (that she knows), social mixers at brain injury conferences, roller coasters and cat sitters. I am sure I am leaving something out. All we did was smile and nod, egging her on to keep talking. Eventually more customers came along so that brought Buffalo Lady's senseless monologue to an end. We said our goodbyes and Buffalo Lady skipped along happy as a clam. Kathy then turned to me.
KATHY: She reminds me of when I used to take acid. [she smiled]
MIRANDA: [I laughed] Acid?
KATHY: No, I'm kidding. I never took acid. I took amphetamines. [she walked away to help a customer]
Stingwich: Day Three
The same two suspects from yesterday came to work today. Tomorrow we all get paid, so maybe they are out of money and a little hungry. I worked early and decided to leave the sandwich in the fridge. Maybeit would disappear by the next day. I'm crossed my fingers.
Update: Jacob
Jacob walked up to me when things weren't busy. He sang me this song:
He told me this is our song now. I think I'm officially Jacob's work hag. I love about gay boys. If you're looking for someone to dance and sing with they are always down. They are just happy and a joy to be around. You can't say that about everybody. Jacob worked at the register across from me today, which put me in a good mood until this one customer came into his line. She was fine until Jake asked her how she was doing that day.
WOMAN: I am just great! Are you going to Chick Fil-A today? That's where I'm going!
Jacob went silent. Today was "Chick Fil-A Appreciation Day." Loads of people would file into Chick Fil-A today to support a company that was openly against same sex marriage. I looked at Jacob's face. He was hurt. He didn't say a word to her until he handed her a receipt.
JACOB: Have a nice day.
Jacob frowned at me then looked down. I was enraged. A grocery store is not a place for politics. It is a place where people of all beliefs, backgrounds and orientations should be able to walk into to fulfill a basic need in life: to feed oneself. It just so happens to be a very HUGE thing we all have in common. Grocery stores, in my mind, celebrate what we have in common. Jacob was kind to that woman even though I bet he didn't want to be. I wanted to grab that woman by the hair and lead her out of the store before I kicked her out on her ass as I would scream, "Keep your Fox News bullshit at home, heifer!"
Alas, I did no such thing. I looked at Jacob.
ME: You okay?
JACOB: No.
ME: Did she say she is going to Chick Fil-A?
JACOB: Yeah.
ME: Then she'll die soon. You can marry who you want after that. It wont be long.
He smiled. That was all I needed to see.
Update: Heartless Lucy
I found Lucy writing a letter. She told me it was her two week notice. I have never heard of anyone handwriting a two week notice. Apparently the manager said that handwritten letters are okay. Lucy told me she hated this job and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I usually can't stant hearing Lucy talk, but I asked her why she hated her cashier job so much. She said it didn't pay much and she was always tired. She was moving north to Denton, TX so she could be closer to school and the drive would be too much. I then asked her about her dog she was giving up. She found it a home, thank goodness. Hopefully the new owner would take much better care of this puppy than she did. That was the only reason I chatted up with Lucy, to make sure the dog was okay. I couldn't care less about her complaints and I can't say I'm sad that she is leaving.
Old Lady #11
I was hungry and kind of tired by the time this old lady came into my line. As I packed her groceries her bottle of wine slipped out of my hand and fell into the bag, slamming against the counter. The boom caused me to shout at the old lady.
ME: OH MY GOD!
OLD LADY: [covering her ears] Oh!
ME: I am so so so sorry! I didn't mean to yell. That just startled me and woke me up!
OLD LADY: Oh I understand! I wish I had something to wake me up like that on my last hand of bridge!
I stopped bagging to laugh. Who else would say something like that but an old lady?
Grumpy Gill
Grumpy Gill was the one who hired me to be a cashier. He was very personable when I met him. He seemed like he loved his job, like he loved being a manager and that he really believed in the company. I like working for people like that. Somehow I felt that the only person I was truly letting down was Gill. I felt like every tardy made him more and more disappointed in me. No matter how many times I would smile at him and say hello, he never genuinely smiled back. I knew that he knew I could do better. I did like this job and I would show up on time if they weren't so lenient.
Today was different though. Grumpy Gill walked up to my line to help bag groceries. He smiled at me and said hello! He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was great! He said, "Great!" This was so huge. Gill had not smiled at me in a month. I had no idea what made him so happy at that moment, but I was glad he had some joy. He is usually so super serious. I decided from then on that I would make more honest attempts to try to care to be on time. Gill's smiles are rare but so wonderful to see. The effort to be more punctual would be worth another one of those smiles.
Upon arrival I was notified that I had received my first warning. I had to sign and confirm that I had received this warning because my till was $10 over the previous day. This means someone did not get their change back. I felt bad about that. My first verbal warning was a money issue as well. Money issues. I am yet to be warned or reprimanded officially for being late...more than 30 times.
Observation
Whenever big grocery stores have giant sales, Hawaiian decor is always involved. Every time. The employees wear flowered leis and palm trees go up everywhere. Who started this trend anyway? Do sales whisk us away to a wonderful place where we have not a care in the world? No. Does anyone ever end up saving enough for a Hawaiian vacation? No. Yet, the bright colors and fake ocean sounds somehow make us all of a sudden covet this lower priced thing we don't need. Only in America. Just an observation.
Mad Kathy and Buffalo Lady
Buffalo Lady came into the my checkout line. The store wasn't very busy so I was happy to give her all of the attention in the world. The cashier next to me, a cool older lady named Kathy, joined in the conversation as well. Buffalo Lady spoke exuberantly, again seamlessly weaving through unrelated topics like depression drugs (she takes Cymbalta), people who love to climb like this guy named Chad (that she knows), social mixers at brain injury conferences, roller coasters and cat sitters. I am sure I am leaving something out. All we did was smile and nod, egging her on to keep talking. Eventually more customers came along so that brought Buffalo Lady's senseless monologue to an end. We said our goodbyes and Buffalo Lady skipped along happy as a clam. Kathy then turned to me.
KATHY: She reminds me of when I used to take acid. [she smiled]
MIRANDA: [I laughed] Acid?
KATHY: No, I'm kidding. I never took acid. I took amphetamines. [she walked away to help a customer]
Stingwich: Day Three
The same two suspects from yesterday came to work today. Tomorrow we all get paid, so maybe they are out of money and a little hungry. I worked early and decided to leave the sandwich in the fridge. Maybeit would disappear by the next day. I'm crossed my fingers.
Update: Jacob
Jacob walked up to me when things weren't busy. He sang me this song:
He told me this is our song now. I think I'm officially Jacob's work hag. I love about gay boys. If you're looking for someone to dance and sing with they are always down. They are just happy and a joy to be around. You can't say that about everybody. Jacob worked at the register across from me today, which put me in a good mood until this one customer came into his line. She was fine until Jake asked her how she was doing that day.
WOMAN: I am just great! Are you going to Chick Fil-A today? That's where I'm going!
Jacob went silent. Today was "Chick Fil-A Appreciation Day." Loads of people would file into Chick Fil-A today to support a company that was openly against same sex marriage. I looked at Jacob's face. He was hurt. He didn't say a word to her until he handed her a receipt.
JACOB: Have a nice day.
Jacob frowned at me then looked down. I was enraged. A grocery store is not a place for politics. It is a place where people of all beliefs, backgrounds and orientations should be able to walk into to fulfill a basic need in life: to feed oneself. It just so happens to be a very HUGE thing we all have in common. Grocery stores, in my mind, celebrate what we have in common. Jacob was kind to that woman even though I bet he didn't want to be. I wanted to grab that woman by the hair and lead her out of the store before I kicked her out on her ass as I would scream, "Keep your Fox News bullshit at home, heifer!"
Alas, I did no such thing. I looked at Jacob.
ME: You okay?
JACOB: No.
ME: Did she say she is going to Chick Fil-A?
JACOB: Yeah.
ME: Then she'll die soon. You can marry who you want after that. It wont be long.
He smiled. That was all I needed to see.
Update: Heartless Lucy
I found Lucy writing a letter. She told me it was her two week notice. I have never heard of anyone handwriting a two week notice. Apparently the manager said that handwritten letters are okay. Lucy told me she hated this job and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I usually can't stant hearing Lucy talk, but I asked her why she hated her cashier job so much. She said it didn't pay much and she was always tired. She was moving north to Denton, TX so she could be closer to school and the drive would be too much. I then asked her about her dog she was giving up. She found it a home, thank goodness. Hopefully the new owner would take much better care of this puppy than she did. That was the only reason I chatted up with Lucy, to make sure the dog was okay. I couldn't care less about her complaints and I can't say I'm sad that she is leaving.
Old Lady #11
I was hungry and kind of tired by the time this old lady came into my line. As I packed her groceries her bottle of wine slipped out of my hand and fell into the bag, slamming against the counter. The boom caused me to shout at the old lady.
ME: OH MY GOD!
OLD LADY: [covering her ears] Oh!
ME: I am so so so sorry! I didn't mean to yell. That just startled me and woke me up!
OLD LADY: Oh I understand! I wish I had something to wake me up like that on my last hand of bridge!
I stopped bagging to laugh. Who else would say something like that but an old lady?
Grumpy Gill
Grumpy Gill was the one who hired me to be a cashier. He was very personable when I met him. He seemed like he loved his job, like he loved being a manager and that he really believed in the company. I like working for people like that. Somehow I felt that the only person I was truly letting down was Gill. I felt like every tardy made him more and more disappointed in me. No matter how many times I would smile at him and say hello, he never genuinely smiled back. I knew that he knew I could do better. I did like this job and I would show up on time if they weren't so lenient.
Today was different though. Grumpy Gill walked up to my line to help bag groceries. He smiled at me and said hello! He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was great! He said, "Great!" This was so huge. Gill had not smiled at me in a month. I had no idea what made him so happy at that moment, but I was glad he had some joy. He is usually so super serious. I decided from then on that I would make more honest attempts to try to care to be on time. Gill's smiles are rare but so wonderful to see. The effort to be more punctual would be worth another one of those smiles.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Day Thirty 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.
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