Written at 9:45 PM on 9/5/11:
Holy awkward moment of the year! Okay, so they fed us at work today and instead of just satisfying myself with my standard one cheeseburger, one hotdog with chips and some cookies if I am still hungry, I overindulged. By overindulge I mean that thirty minutes later, towards the end of my lunch, I realized I was really still hungry instead of the false hungry that can happen when you eat faster than your body can process the food intake. Having believed I properly assessed my actual hunger, I allowed myself another cheeseburger and handful of chips.The fullness was immense as was my fatigue and general whininess for the next hour while cashiering. At the tail-end of this uncomfortable way of being I the awkwardness began.
I have been blocking one side of the registers outside to try and ensure people don't come up behind me. Especially when I am busy, I don't like the idea of a customer sneaking out simply by walking behind the registers. Most of the time the customer's intent is just to cut across to get inside the store, but it is a real design flaw to allow them to essentially come behind the registers. It ruins the illusion that we have a certain status as workers versus every other body there. So the first bit of awkward was the realization someone was talking to me as they popped up from behind...where I had blocked off the entrance. Then was the realization that it was Stuart, the dude from that one time a few months ago who I hadn't talked to since and have as of yet still not read his last correspondence.
He was holding this one metal part I had never seen before and I was understanding that he couldn't find anymore of those but needed more, but I was covering my mouth with my crossword puzzle in classic Dual Thinking 101. I think I said I had no idea what they piece was and he responded with something somewhat biting so that pissed me off and I responded with an equally terse "I get that" but immediately called over the intercom like I needed to. In the meantime I did not want to talk to him though and made myself busy seeking out the customers that for the first time that afternoon were not wanting to line up at the register. After a few minutes though, I tried to get ahold of someone for him again in a different way to no avail. I tried one more time on the overhead and practically tackled the first Garden associate to get him away from me.
Some minutes later one of the DMs was fluttering around my register which I found rather odd since none of them come out there if they can help it - even on a relatively nice day like today. Once my line went down he let me know that the immature little fuck complained about both me and the Garden associate I pawned him off on. I explained that I tried to get a hold of an associate in several way and let the customer know each time what was going on. Total truth too, I made sure to tell him what I was doing, I just didn't look at him much and tended to other customers since it is my job and all. It all felt so fictional, this scenario of some dillweed coming in an stirring shit for the sake of it. The whole time though, I was thinking how much writing fodder was being born.
Holy awkward moment of the year! Okay, so they fed us at work today and instead of just satisfying myself with my standard one cheeseburger, one hotdog with chips and some cookies if I am still hungry, I overindulged. By overindulge I mean that thirty minutes later, towards the end of my lunch, I realized I was really still hungry instead of the false hungry that can happen when you eat faster than your body can process the food intake. Having believed I properly assessed my actual hunger, I allowed myself another cheeseburger and handful of chips.The fullness was immense as was my fatigue and general whininess for the next hour while cashiering. At the tail-end of this uncomfortable way of being I the awkwardness began.
I have been blocking one side of the registers outside to try and ensure people don't come up behind me. Especially when I am busy, I don't like the idea of a customer sneaking out simply by walking behind the registers. Most of the time the customer's intent is just to cut across to get inside the store, but it is a real design flaw to allow them to essentially come behind the registers. It ruins the illusion that we have a certain status as workers versus every other body there. So the first bit of awkward was the realization someone was talking to me as they popped up from behind...where I had blocked off the entrance. Then was the realization that it was Stuart, the dude from that one time a few months ago who I hadn't talked to since and have as of yet still not read his last correspondence.
He was holding this one metal part I had never seen before and I was understanding that he couldn't find anymore of those but needed more, but I was covering my mouth with my crossword puzzle in classic Dual Thinking 101. I think I said I had no idea what they piece was and he responded with something somewhat biting so that pissed me off and I responded with an equally terse "I get that" but immediately called over the intercom like I needed to. In the meantime I did not want to talk to him though and made myself busy seeking out the customers that for the first time that afternoon were not wanting to line up at the register. After a few minutes though, I tried to get ahold of someone for him again in a different way to no avail. I tried one more time on the overhead and practically tackled the first Garden associate to get him away from me.
Some minutes later one of the DMs was fluttering around my register which I found rather odd since none of them come out there if they can help it - even on a relatively nice day like today. Once my line went down he let me know that the immature little fuck complained about both me and the Garden associate I pawned him off on. I explained that I tried to get a hold of an associate in several way and let the customer know each time what was going on. Total truth too, I made sure to tell him what I was doing, I just didn't look at him much and tended to other customers since it is my job and all. It all felt so fictional, this scenario of some dillweed coming in an stirring shit for the sake of it. The whole time though, I was thinking how much writing fodder was being born.
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