Another day… another dollar –or– No one ever said I want to be a stocker when I grow up part II
That’s right folks, I’m back with another great story from hell known as my job. Being a fairly responsible person, I understand that everyone should have a job to make money and support one’s own needs, but no one, I mean no one should have to endure and undergo such mental brutality forced upon myself from the customers…
I find as I work at this monstrosity known as the Sparkle Market longer and longer, I find that to be a customer, you don’t have to be very smart… How hard of a question is “paper or plastic?” In the amount of time it takes the average patron to answer my riddle, I could have gone, slit my wrists, and been currently in the hospital. I get nothing more than sheer pleasure when the response is, “I’ll have the one’s with the handles…” Are you completely brain-dead? Both types, paper and plastic, have handles on the top. I have a great idea, why don’t I throw all your groceries on the ground and let you pack them the way you want to because obviously I don’t do a very good job reading your mind trying to figure out which bag you really want…
I was rendered speechless today when a woman came through the line that I was bagging for and bought a bottle for her child. It’s not the fact that she purchased the bottle, it’s the fact that she complained the whole time about how she was using her ‘cigarette money’ to buy this necessity for her baby… Utterly ridiculous…
Another all time classic is when I’m halfway done bagging their meaningless items, they decide they want to pull the old switch on me and tell me they want paper after I’ve bagged a good three fourths of their ice cream, tampons and tabloids in plastic. I want to cry out to these people to get some intelligence and that eating pork rinds while reading a magazine entitled “How to lose 30 pounds in 30 days” isn’t going to accomplish anything…
And one more thing… If you have exact change but it’s buried in the bottomless depths of your purse or wallet, you aren’t saving me time or work having to dig that out, taking a good 5 minutes to find that one penny. You’re just wasting my time and your time, give me the twenty and we’ll call it even because I could sure use some compensation for having to put up with your guff…
Just a heads up, this is the second in what may be a long line of complaints and meaningless rambling writeups I post about this festering pool of toxic waste known as Sparkle Market.