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Overwaitea-induced Schizophrenia

Cashier Brain: Hello, Customer! Happy! Smile and cheer and accomodating expression!

My Brain: Hel-- um. You have... you have *twenty* disposable sponges? Why do you have *twenty* disposable sponges? Do you have some kind of death wish?

Cashier Brain: Ooh! Your pettiness is so *interesting*! *titter* Would you like your milk in a bag?

My Brain: That's right, go ahead and waste three plastic bags on jugs of milk that already have handles. Oh, and you want them *double*-bagged, too? Well! Why don't I carry your groceries to your car and set fire to a tree on the way out?

Cashier Brain: Do you have your points card with you today? Would you like to redeem any coupons? Shall I be even *more* accomodating?

My Brain: No, I *can't* do it with just your phone number. We have cheque cashing, so I can't do that. Yes, I know Safeway does that. They don't have cheque cashing. Sorry. Sorry. *Sorry*. Grargh. No, I CAN'T DO THAT. I'm sorry that your husband didn't give you enough money to cover it without the club discount. That's not actually *my* fault, you know.

Cashier Brain: Would you like to take something out? I can send a service clerk to find a more economically-priced item...

My Brain: Oh, my GODS. Why not the sponges? How about the sponges? Use soap and a dishcloth like a civilized person. Like a non-chronically-mind-numbingly-stupid-lazy-got-married-right-out-of-highschool-never-worked-a-day-in-her-life-idiot. Why don't you take out the SPONGES?

Cashier Brain: Oh, you'd like to leave your entire order here and go get your husband so he can put it on the credit card? Why, sure! I'll just put it on suspension until you get back.

My Brain: And... now you've been gone ten minutes. And now twenty. And now... there's a line. And there's no manager in sight. Aaaand... oh, don't tell me. Those people, the old lady in the polyester leopard-print? They're your friends, right? And they *really* want to be served *right* now.

*sigh* When I quit, I'm getting a partial lobotomy. Really. To take out all the enforced cheer *and* the evil vegetable codes.

While waiting for the idiot woman to return (over six bucks worth of sponges in a $200 order!), I had this daydream - where the lady in the polyester leopard-print pulled a little gun out of her purse and started shooting up the place.

And the stupid woman never came back.

I really need a new job...

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
groundskeeper
Sep. 27th, 2002 05:39 am (UTC)
Man, that's ruff. *hugs*. I can't believe some woman made you do that! the nerve !
elidyce
Sep. 28th, 2002 02:41 am (UTC)
Poor li'l Chandri... *hugs* I too am a checkout chick. I feel your pain.

Today, for example.

Cashier brain: Hello, Customer! You have brought us your business, yay! How spiffy!

My brain: What the fuck is WRONG with you? I'm still in the middle of serving this other customer! This is the express lane, there's no ROOM for you to start dumping out all your stuff before the other lady is done!

Cashier brain: Would you like your bugspray in a seperate bag from your fruit and vegetable items? Of course, that's no problem! I don't mind using three bags more to process your order than are strictly required!

My brain: Do you realize I get into trouble if I have to call for too many more of these? Coles has an environmentally-friendly policy of Only Using The Bags You Need To! If you hadn't had the bugspray in with the fruit and vegetables in the first place, it would be in the bag with the tampons and paper towels right now!

Cashier brain: Hello there! Yes, you can be my next customer!

My brain: Oh, god, another one shoving in! I didn't make eye contact with you! I didn't in any way signal you to come forward? Why are you HERE, you freak?! Don't you realize I need to stop serving for a minute to call the service desk for more change? No, of course not! YOU WANT TO BE SERVED FIRST. Fine, you decrepit old hag I'll SERVE you, but then I'm calling the service desk no matter how many people are wait- oh my god, that was my last five-cent coin! MY LAST FIVE-CENT COIN! The smallest denomination of currency in the country! I can't give any more change until I have more of those argh you stupid woman gnaaaah meltdown...

I had to close my register for ten minutes in peak shopping time until I could get more five-cent coins. Customers are swine.

Just grit your teeth and think of Anthony Hopkins in 'The Remains of the Day'. To serve is a noble calling. We have to keep telling ourselves that.

Dyce
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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