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Though on leave of absence at the moment, I'm an employee of a grocery store. This is from my early days of cashiering:
On a May afternoon at the express register, the Muzak blared merrily from the speakers as the sun beamed painfully into the eyes of cashiers and customers alike. I stood turned towards the windows, my left, as I finished bagging a blonde lady’s order and dealing with her payment. Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a short, hefty woman walk up with her groceries and grab the pen I kept for credit card receipts. This was not unusual; I assumed she meant to write a check.
Come time to pay, she pulled out cash. I was quite taken aback at that. She must have seen me turned to the side and saw it as an opportunity. Like a jewel thief dangling from the ceiling, she had looted her prize while the guard’s back was turned. In her mind, paying with cash and exiting the store may have been equivalent to hanging silently from the ceiling, diamond in hand, as the guard blithely traipsed below her.
What to do? I could not make a federal case out of a stolen pen. It simply wouldn’t do to call her on it. But…
“Ma’am? Could you check the floor for me real quick? I had a pen a second ago, and I think it might have fallen.”
“Ididn’ttakeit!” she blurted, eyes widening.
I paused a moment to let her think about what she had just done, then slowly and courteously responded, “Ma’am, I didn’t ask if you took it; I asked you to peek at the floor for me.”
“Oh.” She glanced at it briefly. “No, I don’t see it.”
We finished the transaction, and she left somewhat red-faced. I laughed
as soon as she was out the door. That was four years ago, and to this day I hide my pen when that lady approaches my register. She never indicates that she notices, but sometimes I wonder.
*MOD EDIT - Race of woman is not relevant. Removed that detail.
On a May afternoon at the express register, the Muzak blared merrily from the speakers as the sun beamed painfully into the eyes of cashiers and customers alike. I stood turned towards the windows, my left, as I finished bagging a blonde lady’s order and dealing with her payment. Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a short, hefty woman walk up with her groceries and grab the pen I kept for credit card receipts. This was not unusual; I assumed she meant to write a check.
Come time to pay, she pulled out cash. I was quite taken aback at that. She must have seen me turned to the side and saw it as an opportunity. Like a jewel thief dangling from the ceiling, she had looted her prize while the guard’s back was turned. In her mind, paying with cash and exiting the store may have been equivalent to hanging silently from the ceiling, diamond in hand, as the guard blithely traipsed below her.
What to do? I could not make a federal case out of a stolen pen. It simply wouldn’t do to call her on it. But…
“Ma’am? Could you check the floor for me real quick? I had a pen a second ago, and I think it might have fallen.”
“Ididn’ttakeit!” she blurted, eyes widening.
I paused a moment to let her think about what she had just done, then slowly and courteously responded, “Ma’am, I didn’t ask if you took it; I asked you to peek at the floor for me.”
“Oh.” She glanced at it briefly. “No, I don’t see it.”
We finished the transaction, and she left somewhat red-faced. I laughed
as soon as she was out the door. That was four years ago, and to this day I hide my pen when that lady approaches my register. She never indicates that she notices, but sometimes I wonder.
*MOD EDIT - Race of woman is not relevant. Removed that detail.
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