We all have work stories. We all have to deal with the general public. We all have to do things we don't want to do. We all have to work a millions times harder than all of our bosses combined. (ooppps, did I just say that?!) We all have one of those days. Well, folks, today was one of them.
Now, lemme break it down for you with a little 411 and some background on where I be ringing these crazy registers. I work at an Italian groccery story. Everything is very Italian. Period. The end. Case closed. Lemme show you a little bit of what my work looks like.
You name it, we have it. If you can say it with an accent, we have it. If it's made and imported from Italy, we have it. Fresh cold-cuts, meats, cheeses, olives, prepared foods along with homemade pasta, ravioli and sauces (or if you prefer, gravy) WELCOME TO ITALY.
Now, back to my crazy customers. I was talking with the owner's son about the weird wackadoodles that come into our place and we actually decided that our customers are worse than the people of Wal-Mart; and we say that in the most loving way. It keeps things interesting and fun, but sometimes I just wanna reach across my scanner and grab my customers by their throats.
Not only are our customers weird on a daily basis, but when there is bad weather coming, they get all kinds of frazzled and bent out of shape. The Eastcoast is expecting some hurricane or some silly business like that. Me? I am not worried about a thing. I got cookies, I am all set. But, these looney bins come in and they CAN NOT survive a one day gust of wind without their large loaf of Italian bread. This isn't Y2K. We are all going to live and the store will be open on Wednesday and you can come and buy all of your weekly grocceries then. Gosh, I am getting heated just talking about it.
Allow me to share you my gems of the day, and what exactly I wished I could say to them.
Customer: Do you have any spaghetti?
Me: Yes, we have linguini, bucatini, angel hair...?
Customer: I want spaghetti.
Me: Which kind?
Dear Spaghetti Woman; GO TO THE STINKING PASTA CASE AND READ THE STINKING LABEL ON THE STINKING PASTA THAT YOU STINKING WANT AND STINKING TELL ME SO I DON'T WANT TO STINKING PLAY GUESS AND CHECK WITH YOU.
Customer: Oh, it's not even busy in here!
Dear Late-Comer: That's because you just walked in at 5:45 PM when we close at 6 PM. Thanks for making me work later than I have to because you filled up three baskets when we are closing and I am the only register open. Thank you much.
Customer: Oh, you look so pretty with your hair down! Does the place make you wear it up?
Dear Mr. Loser: Thank you for letting me know that when I wear a baseball cap and my hair in a bun I am ugly, but when I wear my hair down on my lunch break I look pretty. And yes, my company requires my hair to be tied up, because I over open food, dumb butt.
Co-Worker: I'll be right back!
Dear Slacker; It's totally okay that you said that you will be right back even though I know you are going to disappear for a long period of time and just return to tell me that there was a long line at the bathroom. I know your tricks, slick.
These were just a few of my misadventures as a blonde-Italian-cashier girl.
Tell me some of your horrid work stories!