Workin’ for the weekend.

29 06 2010

Hi-low!  Atonement over there in the dooblydoo?  Yeah, that’s a lie.  I’m not really reading that right now.  I think I only put a bookmark in it.

I’m working about four days a week this summer.  Which is a lot for me.  I’ve been there for over two years, actually.  Cashiering in a supermarket.  Oh, the fun times, let me tell you.  I dread going to work, quite honestly.  I really hate it when they put me on express.  You know, the fifteen-items-or-less lane?  Because no matter how many lanes behind me are open with cashiers and baggers waiting, they insist on coming to me.  Where I have to bag everything myself.  And it would have been so much faster if they had taken three more steps down a ways to someone on a big lane.  Whenever I get put on express, I tell myself I’m getting back at my manager by pushing paper bags.  I think we’re supposed to offer plastic first because it is cheaper for the company.  But I always ask, “Is paper okay?”  Stickin’ it to the man.

I dread going to work because I’m an anxious person.  Have been since second grade.  The social unknown freaks me out.  Before I get there at least.  I remember when I first started working I was so scared of customers and messing up something.  I got comments on how super cheery and smiley I was.  That was how I masked the anxiety–channeling season 1 Rory Gilmore.  I still get all hot and bothered when a cute boy comes in my lane.  Or a hot, cheery dad.  So embarrassing.  It’s not difficult to tell either since I blush like a mofo.

But working there has helped me so much, too.  I’m so much less nervous than I was.  I’ve lost the fake-y chipper card, too.  I wouldn’t say I’m sullen; I’m just a chill cashier who will reciprocate her customers’ attitude.

There are good parts to my job.  I like it when a customer has sweaty hands.  Makes me feel less bad for myself.  Because my hands used to 24/7 and it sucked.  They still nasty up when I’m anxious or anticipating something that makes me nervous.  Really awesome when you’re with guys -_-

A boatload of British people flock to my town in the summertime [wtf right, no idea] so the accents are always a pleasant surprise.  And you can tell when they examine the coins while the count out their change.  There are also the adorable old geezers who have to be pushing 90.  Who, come to think of it, probably shouldn’t be allowed on the roads anymore.  I love giving back 41 cents change because it’s one of each coin:  quarter, dime, nickel, penny.

Some of the more expensive booze have these security cap things that have to be taken up to the office to be removed.  I had one come through my lane the other day, and I can’t even scan alcohol because in Indiana you have to be 19 [don’t even get me started].  So I buzzed the office as usual and had a manager come over.  And after he scanned it, he said to the lady purchasing it “let me just take your top off for you.”  It took so much effort for me not to fall over with laughter at that one.  Wording win.




4 responses

29 06 2010

Take your top off!

29 06 2010

“Is paper okay?” — I adore you!

30 06 2010

no “you’ve changed” comments from me! just smiles! ;D
and this actually somehow makes me feel a lot more at ease about starting a new job this summer.

8 07 2010

Wait, wait, British people come here?
…why don’t I ever notice this?

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