Frazzled

I don't know why, but today was particularly frazzling and crazy. Possibly this was just me.

There was some unrest going on between my coworkers, when one told the other she had an attitude problem.

I had to ask my boss if it was ok to call the guy on the floor up to the register if I felt like smacking someone. He said yes.

When I clocked back into work after lunch my store manager tells me that if I can deal with our customers and issues at this store, then I can handle any fucking job anyfuckingwhere.

The last straw was when my relief coworker comes in late and then SHOPS! I saw him in aisle three gettin' his protein bars, then coming up to the register. Granted, I only punched out eight minutes late, but he shouldn't be coming in late, and then grabbing what he wants before coming to his post. I don't even do that in the mornings when we aren't busy. But at 4:30 in the afternoon, its Drive Time and I was swamped and my line was long even with the guy at Register Two. Speaking of that guy, I asked him if he could come up to my register at 4:25 so I could put away my overstock and clock out on time. He didn't, but then he made up for it by listening to me vent while I was in the aisles putting away some of my overstock, and he evidentily felt sorry for me or decided I was crazy enough to be a threat,(especially when I freaked out about not being able to find where the Orchard Blossoms Patriot candle went) so he offered to put the rest of the stuff up. On my way out I gently and kindly asked my store manager to tell the latecomer to stop coming in late and for the love of Baby Jesus don't shop before arriving at his post. And I told him if he doesn't tell him, I will and the way he says it will be a lot different then the way I'll say it. My store manager turns to my other manager and says "Looks like you have some work to do." Finally, at least someone will be working.

Good Karma

This morning this little, elderly Asian woman came up to my register needing to borrow a pen. She walked away and wrote on an empty box of store-brand allergy meds. As she was leaving she said she wanted to ask me a question. "Go ahead", I told her.
In broken and confusing English she told me she wanted to tell her aunt who wasn't really her aunt but actually a family friend, but not much of that either because she won't pick up her calls and she has always been mean to her, about this medication. She asked if she should call this woman even though she wasn't picking up her calls and has always been mean to her because of something this woman's (my customer's) mother had done to her. I tried to clarify the situation and I asked if she was sending this woman something in the mail. I thought maybe my customer wanted to send this family friend the meds she had just purchased. Because apparently the so-called family friend was not in good health and didn't leave the house much. I told my customer that it was karma interfering with the family friend's life, which was why she was in poor health and no one wanted to talk to her. I told her not to bother mailing her meds. Further clarification revealed that my customer only wanted to speak to her "aunt" to tell her about the effectiveness of the medication. The other woman lives in California. But she wouldn't pick up my customer's calls. I told this woman that even though this so-called friend had been difficult and mean to her because of what her mother may or may not have done, good karma would be on her way if she called the California woman to tell her about the medication. Even if Ms. California didn't pick up the phone, she should leave a message announcing the medication's effectiveness and suggesting she pick some up. If she does that it would prove she still cares about Ms. California despite the past misdeeds of said woman. Thus, her conscience would be clear and she would gain good karma. I told her it would be bad karma to withhold information from this woman.
She seemed to like this advice, and said she would call her so-called friend when she got home.

My friend in cosmetics heard part of this conversation and told me later that it sounded like I was in a therapy session.

Overtime

Today I got to clock out an hour early because I was going to get overtime. I miscalculated my breaks, though. I thought I still got the two fifteens and a lunch, but because it was a 7 hour shift, I got one fifteen and a lunch. So the home stretch was a little difficult. But it was nice to be able to leave sooner than usual. And an hour overtime is pretty significant.

Christmas Eve Day

I got to work super early, as in: 7:15 am, but I left at 4:30. I brought in a cake that said "Happy Holidays heart Kim". And we had Pita Inn lunch in the breakroom. Everyone brought something, maybe.

I rang up non-stop, pretty much. Losing my mind and stressing out. Although I didn't have a whole lot of arguments, just a ton of people. My boss says that if and when I feel like smacking someone in the side of the head, I need to call my coworker up to the register to cover me.

Our employee discount was 25% off, instead of our 15% off, so I bought a lot of stuff I wouldn't normally. And of course, more than I meant to.

This guy came in early, wearing pedaphociles and carrying a lot of papers, asking about when we were open. "What about tomorrow? Is the pharmacy open tomorrow? What about January 2nd? Are you open January 2nd? Is the pharmacy open?" I looked at him, and realized his belt and waistband were down past his waist. Just under his coat, I could see the skinny whiteness of his creepy thigh. I give him a "what the hell is wrong with you?" look. Then he gave me a similar look, which kind of threw me off. So I stared him down as he walked out of the store.

The First Day of Winter

Today was the first day of winter. The Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. An important day for the pagans. Unfourtuantly, all I did was bake some sugar cookies. And they weren't even that good.

I have been feeling especially crazy at work recently. I get real high-strung.

My sister and mother came in! They printed some collage prints, they shopped a little, and I made sure they got my discount. When they left my boss said they looked like me, which startled him, but he still wasn't sure if they were my family because they were quiet. Then he launched into some hypothetical conversation wherein he tells someone they know him from prison.

Clock Out!

Just a tip:
When your best cashier has to clock out at 4:30 but her relief/the second shift is about to get overtime so he won't show up until 5:30 or maybe 6, it might be a good idea to tell the cashier. Because then she won't spend 21 minutes standing at the register waiting until he shows up. And then she won't make the guy on the floor come to the register so he can take over and so he can tell the next cashier (who wasn't actually late, but she thought he was) that he was a bitch who needs to learn how to come to work on time. Actually, it's not even necessary to tell the best cashier the next guy will come in late. Just put it on the schedule so people know what the hell is going on.

Cosmetics and Assyrians

I was in cosmetics today, but I spent a while at the register stocking my cigarettes. I was super-tired, and kind of useless. It took me a long time to accomplish anything. And the day did not go as fast as anticipated. I got off at 4, which didn't come soon enough. As I clocked out, the next shift clocked in and she said there were cops outside because there was some woman who was falling all over our parking lot, and possibly in the street. She was drunk, evidentially.

One of my regulars asked if I was over 21, then said: "I only want to know because I am trying to ask you out for a drink." It seems when he gets stressed out, his accent comes out more. And when I told him I don't drink, and was about to mention I have a boyfriend, he interrupted me to say: "Tea? Lunch? Something?" Except not that desperate. When I relayed this info to my Assyrian coworker he said this guy must be Assyrian because he asked me out for tea instead of coffee.

Robbery

A white guy wearing a big puffy black coat waited in line for my register. When he got there, he leaned in and said
"Open up the drawer. Open up the fucking register and give me the money. You think I'm playin'? Open the fucking register."
My heart and mind sank, along with my stomach while I tried to asses the situation. At first I thought he might need change (like everyone else). Then I thought he was "just playin'". I realized he was serious and thought about how my hesitation might cost me my life. When I looked down at what he was holding, I felt a little better. It wasn't a Glock, which in my opinion is a neccessary accessory to this sort of activity, it was a nail file, the one with the tip to clean under your nails with. I looked deep into his hazel eyes, and decided he wasn't fucked up on drugs and he wasn't going to kill me. So I said,
"No. I'm sorry, I just can't do that."
I looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing this, but no one was. The guy panics; I don't think he counted on my saying no, and he ran out of the store.
My coworker comes up to purchase a Dr. Pepper and she asks why I look so weird. I say "I think I just adverted a robbery. Someone just came up and asked me to give him the drawer." She freaks the hell out and tells me to call our store manager up here now. She was the one who made sure the cops were called. When they came, I was pulled off the register and looked at the security video and IDed the guy. I answered all the questions about what he was wearing and what he looked like, and the beat cop told the detective "I got this". I gave them my ID and asked my manager what I should have done if he had had a gun or another life-threatening weapon.

After work the cop picks me up to see if the guy who just commited a car-jacking was my guy (he wasn't) and the cop did not seem pleased I said it wasn't him. While I was at my other job the cops came to my home and shone lights on my balcony asking for the victim to come out and answer some questions. My boyfriend calls me to tell me this, so I call the cop back and tell him that I work two jobs and am very busy; I barely have enough time to do laundry, so any questions they have for me can be done during my work hours while I am punched in because this is a work-related matter. I told him I will talk to my boss tomorrow and see if I can come down to the station (while punched in, of course).
This is obviously why I need to pay close attention to people who come to my register.

Missing

A coworker who only comes in Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays has not come in Monday or today. Should I be worried? Instincts says no, he is probably dealing with school issues. But I am wondering what he could be doing. He is the only one who routinely answers my pages, and I like knowing he is somewhere in the store in the event that I need him. Also, because he has not been coming in, my manager puts two people on the floor. Which would lead me to believe he has requested time off, because otherwise how would my manager know to schedule the two we need to replace him? So many questions, and none of it is my business.

Photo Specialist

I got my B.F.A in Photography with a minor in Women and Gender Studies. My name tag declares that I am a photo specialist. Although in real life, I rarely hang out in the photo department. I don't really know the equipment as well as I should and I get kind of nervous. Today, though, I was awesome! I took three passports and didn't really mess up. Well, kinda. But I knew how to fix it. And I told some woman the film she brought in wasn't 35mm (although it wasn't 120 or 110...my manager said it was "safety" or "specialist" film. I don't know what that is.) and I told her we didn't have the equipment to process it for prints so she should head over to Ritz. I changed the paper a few times, released orders, printed tags, and felt pretty good about being pulled off the register. Technically I was supposed to be on the floor, but the Head Photo Specialist had a recurring and needy customer so I really had to help her out. I think things went relatively smoothly. I have much more confidence over there, and it was actually pretty fun. Yea for specializing in photos! Which reminds me, I have to order collage prints and photo gifts for Xmas.

Good News

The good news is this:
The Christmas schedule was put up, and I actually got what I wanted. I also got what I wanted for the Thanksgiving schedule, so things are looking good.
Also, a coworker who left for a better job is now coming back one day a week. I'm pretty stoked. He is fun to work with.

Roommates and The New Guy

I got to train the newest guy today. He was pretty chill. Which is a nice way of saying he moved kind of slowly. I like him, though. Seems like he will be fun to work with. And he wore dress shoes, a white button-up and dress pants, which I appreciated since so many (or all) of us dress way down.

I had a roommate in college who smoked an unbelievable amount of pot, adjusted the heater and a/c frequently and unnecessarily, cooked and ordered out more than I thought possible and NEVER cleaned up after herself. When we were all cleaning out the apartment to move out, she had conveniently disappeared. She left many items, including a Kermit the Frog bowl, which I still have. Her idiot boyfriend seemed to live with us as well. She was adopted and spoiled beyond belief. She went to a private high school and lacked a basic understanding about how to deal with people and the world in which we live. Point of the story: I saw her and her boyfriend today at my work. I even rung them up! They bought a Monster and a yellow Gatorade. I did not acknowledge them in any way, aside from the usual customer service acknowledgment. Being in the town over from where I grew up, I see quite a few people I know from my past. Even though I feel I should expect it now, it still always comes as a surprise. I usually like surprises, but some I could do without.

Sherlock Holmes

I am reading a book written from a series of letters the author found in trunk willed to her. It is about the female friend of Sherlock Holmes. The protagonist's ability to recall details about people and situations is something I envy. It is something I need to work on, in the event I am ever called upon to be an eyewitness in a situation at my store. However, whenever I find myself committing something to memory about a person, I also find myself staring at said person, which is rude and unhelpful.

I have started wearing my glasses more often than my contacts, because my glasses are actually my right prescription. Many of my regulars have finally noticed, and then commented. Luckily for my self-esteem, they have all been good comments.

My first customer today was a guy in a jacket with a fur lining, unzipped at the top. He wore a blue button-up, and was tanned. He mentioned how cold it was and I answered that it was indeed chilly outside. He volunteered that he was from Palm Beach, to which I said "Wow, you're far from home. What brings you up here? You're going to need a better winter coat. It gets a lot worse." He said he is only here for a few days a couple of times of year for work. It was 81 degrees when he left. I told him he needs winter accessories like mittens, hat, and scarf. I might have sounded like my mother.

The Ususal

It got pretty hectic today and I yelled at some people I shouldn't have. Namely, some 14 year old kid who was yelling at me to ask for someone along the front wall but I was on the phone with a woman who wanted to know why no one had gotten back to her about a stock check on a Vanity Fair issue.

Our eggs are 99 cents right now which has lead to a huge number of customers needing dairy products. I feel a little overwhelmed with the sales, our coupons, my coupons, and shopping.

Our Sweetarts are 3/75 cents with an in-store coupon (5111). I have a Catalina coupon for a $1 off 6. Tomorrow I will be getting 6 Sweetarts for about 50 cents. I can't beat that price!

A Bit of Self-Awareness

In the hopes of continuing this project and not letting it taper out like I seem to do with so many other projects, I told myself I would write after work everyday. Yesterday, that did not happen. Normally I would just feel bad about myself and my inability to stay consistent with my self-assigned assignments, but then I decided to let it go, and write this morning anyway. Just not about the ridiculousness that occurs at work, but rather about my goals and ideas surrounding this project.

I like being in a service job, as hard and unrecognized it can be sometimes. I believe that each service job has it's own challenges and unique issues. I also believe that service jobs are not just for the unqualified and dummies of the world. Many of us in the service industry are smart and funny and occasionally customer-service oriented.

The other day a co-worker of mine who actually reads (however occasionally) this publication, told another co-worker I had created a blog about work. Co-worker #2 responded with a snort and an incredulous look towards me and this statement: "A blog?! What the hell do you have to write about? And what the hell for?" It hurt my feelings and made me think about what exactly I was doing. My goals are not lofty; I wish to create a journal of sorts about what goes on at my workplace and those who visit it. Is that really so unbelievable? There are many movies and books about those of us in the service industry. Two that come to mind are the movie Waiting and the book Nickel and Dimed.

The problem with work in the service industry is that we are easily replaceable. We are often threatened, however indirectly, that if we do not follow procedure and directions, we will be fired and another will easily be found to take our place. This may be true to a certain extent. But all of us have a unique capability to deal with what is thrown at us in our respective industry. We may not need the schooling and the training required by those in the medical profession, but I assure you, we are schooled and trained in a way that reflects the needs of our workplace. I honestly believe it takes a special person to work the service industry. I, of course, am one of those people.

Sadly, there are other professions I wish I had. Such as real-estate agent, massage therapist or hair-stylist. I also want to manage an apartment complex. Will I ever reach these goals? Hard to tell. In the meantime I want to write about what goes on at work. I find service industry stories the funniest and most relatable. I find my time spent at work is less soul-crushing when I allow (or force) myself to believe that whatever is going on will make fabulous fodder for the writing I hope to do after my shift.

I like this blog. And I like my jobs. And on it goes.

Sick

No, not sick as in awesome, but sick as in I feel achy and irritated and my nose is running and my throat and chest kind of hurts and I feel icky and I have to pee a lot on account of all the damn liquids I've been drinking. I was telling my co-workers and boss that one of the most irritating things about being at the register is that you have to ask someone if you can go to the bathroom. Granted, no one says no to me, but it is still kind of sad to have to ask. Like I'm back in grade school and have to rely on the niceness of others so I can relieve my damn bladder.

On the upside, I basically paid 2 cents for a small bottle of Dawn, two bottles of cough syrup (Nature Fusion-Vicks) and two 20oz of Arizona Tea. Using my coupons. I'm too sick to explain this now. I have to go to bed. I'm thinking about using a sick day tomorrow. God forbid I get one of my old ladies sick.