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It's strange: I was born into an upper middle-class/lower upper-class family in a fairly wealthy county -- you'd think I'd have more patience for the "plight" of the wealthy (as in the inconvenience of waiting in line, the failure of the world to stop and start at the snap of your fingertips, etc..) but I don't.
The high-end grocery store I cashier at borders one of the top 20 wealthiest towns in the entire United States. Most of the customers are nice or at least tolerable, but the rest are insensitive, arrogant, "my time is worth more than your life"-type pricks. For example, today:
The players: Me, Customer #1 (lady), Customers #2/#3 (girls in their teens or twenties.)
I'm working in lane #1, which is under a sign that reads: "Fast track -- Small Orders". I finish ringing Cust #1 up and she's fumbling for her credit card when I pick up on the conversation happening between Cust #2/#3:
- Cust #2: "Didn't Dan used to work here?"
- Cust #3: "Yea I think so, he wore the [store's] shirt to school."
- Cust #2: "Wow, that's pathetic."
- Me, (thinking): "...pathetic that he worked here, or that he wore the shirt at school? WTF?!"
- Cust #1: "Hmmm... I know my card's here somewhere."
- Cust #2 (to her friend, #3): "What's taking so long? The sign says 'Fast track'??"
- Me, (thinking): "What's taking so long, you stupid bitch, IS THE LADY IN FRONT OF YOU!"
- Cust #3: "She (#1) must be paying with a check."
- Me, (thinking): "Thanks for cutting me a little slack, though it's not a check."
I eventually process #2 and #3, which is hard because they've insinuated that working in a grocery store (my job) is pathetic.
^Naturally, the next customer is a man with a large/heavy order I reluctantly/silently ring up. He asks for his stuff to be double-bagged and comments on me not having a bagger which I explain is a result of working in the "Small Orders" lane. He says that he considers his order small, but expensive. I say yes sir, yes sir and try to divert his attention with some insightful banter which falls on deaf ears. He's out the door when his double bag mysteriously rips apart and comes back in asking for another double bag. I ask him if he wants me to split the weight between two separate bags and he says no, he just wants to get out of here as fast as possible. !@#$%^&* Yea, SO DO I dickbreath!! That was how my day started.
--> The main thing was the condescension of articulating directly or within earshot of the grocery store cashier how pathetic cashiering at a grocery must be. I've heard this before, even worse. I can only assume that the parents of our future doctors, lawyers, and business executives are so detached from "working-class" jobs that to partake in one is sacrificial.
The high-end grocery store I cashier at borders one of the top 20 wealthiest towns in the entire United States. Most of the customers are nice or at least tolerable, but the rest are insensitive, arrogant, "my time is worth more than your life"-type pricks. For example, today:
The players: Me, Customer #1 (lady), Customers #2/#3 (girls in their teens or twenties.)
I'm working in lane #1, which is under a sign that reads: "Fast track -- Small Orders". I finish ringing Cust #1 up and she's fumbling for her credit card when I pick up on the conversation happening between Cust #2/#3:
- Cust #2: "Didn't Dan used to work here?"
- Cust #3: "Yea I think so, he wore the [store's] shirt to school."
- Cust #2: "Wow, that's pathetic."
- Me, (thinking): "...pathetic that he worked here, or that he wore the shirt at school? WTF?!"
- Cust #1: "Hmmm... I know my card's here somewhere."
- Cust #2 (to her friend, #3): "What's taking so long? The sign says 'Fast track'??"
- Me, (thinking): "What's taking so long, you stupid bitch, IS THE LADY IN FRONT OF YOU!"
- Cust #3: "She (#1) must be paying with a check."
- Me, (thinking): "Thanks for cutting me a little slack, though it's not a check."
I eventually process #2 and #3, which is hard because they've insinuated that working in a grocery store (my job) is pathetic.
^Naturally, the next customer is a man with a large/heavy order I reluctantly/silently ring up. He asks for his stuff to be double-bagged and comments on me not having a bagger which I explain is a result of working in the "Small Orders" lane. He says that he considers his order small, but expensive. I say yes sir, yes sir and try to divert his attention with some insightful banter which falls on deaf ears. He's out the door when his double bag mysteriously rips apart and comes back in asking for another double bag. I ask him if he wants me to split the weight between two separate bags and he says no, he just wants to get out of here as fast as possible. !@#$%^&* Yea, SO DO I dickbreath!! That was how my day started.
--> The main thing was the condescension of articulating directly or within earshot of the grocery store cashier how pathetic cashiering at a grocery must be. I've heard this before, even worse. I can only assume that the parents of our future doctors, lawyers, and business executives are so detached from "working-class" jobs that to partake in one is sacrificial.
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