More Tales of Pathetica

[Merriweather]

Plugging Away

Guy #Fawkes had a newspaper, some Gatorade and some ice. Oh, and a pack of gum.

What, no gunpowder?

[Merriweather]

Oops, sorry for not multiquoting the last one.

Plugging Away


And people have been thinking Red = Your total.

I swear, someday I'm going to find the troll programmer responsible for this, and when I do, I'm going to make him as misshapen as his namesake! I'll make him forget every letter in the English language except C.

From personal experience, you probably want to go after somone a notch or so above the poor programmer. Rarely does a programmer get to decide things like that, usually they get a set of specs from higher up saying "This is what we want, do it". Often the specs make no logical sense, have flaws you could drive a Mac truck thru, or ask for the impossible. I've written so much code that I knew was going to come back to be changed at some point when someone other than me finally realized it wasn't what was needed for the job, but rarely does someone designing a system listen to a lowly programmer.

Wow. Someone volunteering to fix their own (family's) mess. The kid deserves a medallion to call Prince Planet, a whistle to summon the Space Giants, and a fur coat made out of Snorlax.
.

And don't foget to give the responsible adult in that child's life a virtual pat on the back as well, there's at least one person doing some parenting, even it if isn't the actual parent.

[Zoom]

Green Bag Packers

Soon as I got back from break, P. was ready to let me have the register.

I said hi to the next customer, and already P. was off bagging for someone else.

Huh? P., like most of my coworkers, knows I ring up stuff so fast that the small potatoes of the other open register are eclipsed by the check of doom.

Well, I paid it little heed, for Ji (not introduced before; she looks a little like a young Johnny Cash, but never mind that) came in and started up with the plastic coverings.

A few seconds goes by and the customer puts two green cloth Pathetica bags on the counter. Ah, excellent! Someone interested in doing something about the environment. I throw down the bags and Ji starts in on them.

However, now the order is piling up with the usual speedy courtesy, and I find myself needing to stop and chip in with the bagging; however, Ji is already halfway done with the second bag and there's still plenty of a tale to tell.

I reach for the eggs and bread and make to place them in a plastic, when suddenly the customer says, in a condescending tone of voice, "No. I don't use plastic."

OK. Do you have any more cloth b--

"Anyone can tell I never use plastic. It's obvious!"

Um, what's obvious? That you never tell us anything? I'm putting the groceries in plastic unless you specifically tell me you want paper. Otherwise I might be tempted to crush the eggs, bread and everything else in the two dinky, frayed-edge green bags which just say Pathetica, as well as Pathetic.

"But it's obvious that I don't use plastic!"

We switched to paper for the rest of her order. At least she didn't yell or complain at us or anything. In fact, apart from the aversion to polymers, she came across as a nice person.

Then, after the order, P. walks right up to me and says, "Sorry I wasn't bagging for you-- I took one look at that lady and I could tell she was a Bad News Bitch."

Am I imagining things, or is everyone else becoming hyper-sensitive about SCs and phantom complainers? Anyway, apathy is what makes me strong, and therefore all the perceived threats where none may lie, will do me no harm.

In Which I Polish Another One Off

We're getting a lot of cross-cultural purchases, by which I mean we have a Polish-made food section, and though we have a local Polish community, we get a lot of "others" who buy the stuff.

No big deal, of course, but the ethnic goods supply is contaminated with pricing mistakes, possibly based on the Europeans using commas instead of periods for decimals. Or maybe the metric system. Who knows? Maybe it's just idiot pricers.

Some guy, who didn't look like one of the locals, went through my line with 3 jars of some kind of honey with a strange name. Anyway, he noticed the jars rang up at $5.29 even though he said the price he saw was $4.99.

Sure, glad to help. I'll start the price check and-- what's that? You want to just pay now? But then you won't get it at the low price! So you want to pay the-- what? You'll just go to the desk? But then they'll have to do the whole price check all over again from the start, when I've already called them and are awaiting response.

Yeah, I know there's a line. Haven't you ever been in line behind someone else who had a price check? Anyway, it'll be all over in a sec-- RING RING!

Hello? Yeah, still waiting. What do you mean it'll take another minute? Hello?

Well, what can I say? It's too late to turn back now. (At this point I don't know if I'm sucky or he is, but meh.) At least she says she knows where the item is, you can't get that kind of response every t-

Oh. Here you are. Yeah, this is what it looks like. No, he's saying he saw it for $4.99 and-- ok!

So, she's gone to check which one this was. At least she's just going back to where she was earlier, she won't get lost or anything. Yeah, I know this is taking a few minutes, but we want to get the price correct.

RING! "Give it to him for $4.29."

The suckiest thing, apart from taking too long to get the stupid price, was that Pathetica has suspended the Scan Guarantee, so if it scans wrong, you don't get one of them free any more.

At this point I would have advised him to kick up a shitstorm so maybe a manager could come by and give him a free $5 coupon for anything, for waiting so long.

Except for that apathy again.

The BossholeTM Has Ears

C., the current Bosshole-in-waiting, (as in we're the ones waiting for her to transform into the Queen of Evil and make her damn move already) has been bagging for me, biding her time and waiting for me to make a mistake so she can gloat triumphantly.

Sometimes paying attention to what she's paying attention to, and doing my job at the same time, is nerve-wracking. But that was one break and three baggers ago.

By now I finally got the long line down which built up over the last story, and I saw C. walking very intently amongst the candy and past us to another front aisle where nothing good was coming of anything.

I turned to the bagger (I don't recognize him, so I won't give him even an initial) and said quietly enough that C. would not hear, "I'm waiting for C. to get in a busy-work mode, because she'll try to get us to do cleaning, and then I can say, 'With what?'"

We are, as a matter of course, regularly without spray bottles, so today looks to be full of dirty deeds and foul tempers. And it was every Bosshole's duty to ignore our shortcomings, in years gone by. If Dune had a Bosshole Harkonnen, he would have said, "The suck must flow!"

Nothing actually came of this, so I was quite pleased. In fact, not ten minutes later, I was called on the phone.

"Hey Zoom, you wanna go home early?"

Sure!

It was an hour early, but I frequently get too many hours anyway so I don't mind if I lose a few.

But it was just after I clocked out that I realized the predicament I agreed to:

It was Bosshole who had called me...

...what if the shift-shortening was in retaliation for what I had said discreetly to the bagger?

The plot thickens. Stay tuned!

[Zoom]

Here He Comes, Here Comes Slow Checker

There was some muttering at the desk as I clocked in. Something about only one register working. I asked what was up but didn't get a response. The two Desk clanners clammed up. "Oh, let him take register 4, we haven't tried that one yet", one whispered.

I get my bags for the day and start preparing for the massive onrush of an empty line, when the bagger approaches me and says, "So, is it broken?"

"What is?" I ask.

"The registers don't work today."

Sure enough, my signing on doesn't complete. Actually it looks like it's going very slowly and will take about 3 minutes just to sign on. Heaven knows how much delay there must be inbetween scanning items!

However, after a few minutes of slow beeps (think R2D2 on marijuana), things went generally well. (Until the fourth story in this post.)

Mary Jane Visits My Line

A woman in obvious pain, leaning on the wire trolley*, had a bunch of items that were easily dispatched to Plastic Bag Hell, that nefarious realm whose walls are made of oil.

Meanwhile, the unusually-named "Joint Juice" needed a price check.

Until now, I was of the impression that any embarrassingly-named items were always double-checked to see they scanned correctly, just in case something like this happened. This was supposed to be a tradition that went as far back as the 1980s and Gas-X.

So, I get through, and sure enough, the other end of the phone doesn't know what it is.

"Is it for people joints?"

Yes. Yes, it is for people joints. Nobody ever goes to a non-people joint.

*If she slipped, she had her asterisk.

Magazeems Legit

In the category of New Magazines With Unusual Titles That Don't Ring Up Because They Won't Exist For Very Long, or N.M.W.U.T.T.D.R.U.B.T.W.E.F.V.L:

"Celebrity Astrology".

Because, as you all know, celebrities really know what they're doing and never lead sordid lives that get dragged through the mud, so their following the stars must really have some merit.

Murder On The Slowient Express

Things were still going well, despite occasionally not being sure an item was scanning. Often I had to slide the item around quite a bit before things became beeptastic.

"I see what you mean," I told the Desk Whisperer (see the first story) as he bagged for me. He hadn't actually said anything to ME, but never mind. "One has to be more careful today because of the slowness."

Then the worst happened-- a rung-up gift card didn't process, and we couldn't sell it to him. Also, he paid with a debit card, which had a verrrrrry long timeout of 49 seconds. That made a lot of people in line behind him very sarcastically happy.

I don't know why the connection was bad. We didn't even have terrible thunderstorms for another hour at least.

Rains!

I noticed everyone, just everyone (other than I) had forgotten their umbrella.

Really? Nobody has five minutes any more to catch the weather report? Or are people becoming too weak to carry around bumbershoots?

Anyway, every time it rains, even just a drizzle, people congregate at the exits so nobody can get past them. And they all stare out the windows as if they could use their heat vision to dissipate the moisture.

"At Zombiecom, you can do anything."

One Liner

My hair has been getting whiter. Which happens, of course, even to people who are not a Brazilian years old.

Meanwhile, somebody bought a ton of oven liners or something like that. One box was left dangling at the far non-conveyor belt edge.

Him: How much is the order?
Me: That depends. Do you want that box over there?
Him: What box?
Me: The box, over there at the far end.
Him: Oh, that. Sure I want it.

Then he proceeded to stand there and look at me as I looked at him. Neither of us were going to get it-- not I, whose arms aren't long enough, and not he of the sure footing which could get him to his boxy destination.

Even the customer behind him remained oblivious to everything.

So I, with the white hair, suddenly felt like Magneto and gestured towards the box as if to draw it to me.

Nope. Didn't work.

Guess he can't have the last box.

Fun With Numbers

This really happened seven months ago.

Every time I get an interesting price, I like to comment on it.

For example, $20.01 gets "A Price Odyssey" appended to it. Or I might say, "Your total is $6.66... you beast."

This time, however, was quite the treat.

It came to $19.41, and I was about to add "A price... which shall live... in infamy!" like I usually do.

Then I realized it was the 70th anniversary of Pearl Harbor.

Also, I was about to say it to a Japanese couple!

Paper Or Colic?

My baggers do not live the happy life. Norton is one such.

Short, balding, and plays the troll very poorly; yet this man is very likeable somehow.

He quit once to seek better pay in better climes, but was back within six months and had to start at the bottom all over again with fewer hours.

Then there was the other day.

He had left my line for some reason. He does this a lot and is possibly hiding so he doesn't have to do bagging for a few minutes, before any of the Desk clan notices he's missing. (I can't prove this, btw, but nobody is telling him to do anything so I have no idea where he is or why.)

Then he turned up suddenly to bag for an order. Immediately, the cart arrives in the front...

...with a little girl...

...who is standing up in the front of the cart...

..and who coughs violently in his face!

Like I said, I feel sorry for him.

He's the one who told me about the rumor that our worst bagger, EVER, was trying to reapply for the job. One of these days I gotta tell you the epic story of that guy.

[Geek King]

We shall await your tale, with popcorn at the ready!

[Dreamstalker]

"The registers don't work today."

Sure enough, my signing on doesn't complete. Actually it looks like it's going very slowly and will take about 3 minutes just to sign on. Heaven knows how much delay there must be inbetween scanning items!

.....

Things were still going well, despite occasionally not being sure an item was scanning. Often I had to slide the item around quite a bit before things became beeptastic.

Two of the registers (one of which is number 4, that number must be cursed) at my store are well-known for the phenomenon. Even cleaning the scanner glass doesn't help -_-

Him: How much is the order?
Me: That depends. Do you want that box over there?
Him: What box?
Me: The box, over there at the far end.
Him: Oh, that. Sure I want it.

Then he proceeded to stand there and look at me as I looked at him.

I get a lot of customers who do that...you have arms, right? I could use one of the divider sticks to pull it over but I'd end up looking stupid (which I'm sure is your goal) and possibly hurt myself.

[Zoom]

you have arms, right?

*looks at avatar*
Well, apparently I have a left arm holding a sword...

It was just slightly too far, so I'd have to take up Divider Stick Javelin, which would only transport the box to Floorland, a mysterious realm I'd rather not explore because I think that frog took a dump on it.

Dumbo: First Blood 2

Woman and her three or four kids came screaming through my line, getting all kinds of various party entrails and cakes and stuff.

Then the card arrived. It said...

"You're a great dad!"

And next to that...

...was a picture of Sylvester Stallone!

I was speechless.

A Streetcar Named Atari

I finally decided what name I'm going to call her so I can talk about her on this forum. (Not A., whom I just found out I called in the original Pathetica thread as... you guessed it, "A.".)

I'm going to call her "Atari 2600" because many of us on the forum will figure out her name based on that alone, but she won't. Also, she's older than Pong.

And just as "Have You Played Atari Today?" is an annoying question as well as a slogan, Mrs. 2600 is the epitome of asking annoying questions.

I use the hand scanner-- during the order mind you-- to ring up 24 packs of Tooth Death Cola, water, beer, basically anything of which there is 12 or 24 and weighs a metric lourde. I do this in front of witnesses because I don't have those Pathetistickers to demonstrate proof of purchase.

Of course, my main witness, having seen the heinous act of adding to the order's total, still decides to cross-examine me with "Did you get the watermelons/water/etc.?"

No matter how many times it is obvious that 1) yes, I have gotten everything in the history of ever, and 2) I make it clear to her that we don't have the stickers, she will ask the question.

After about five or six of these, I start varying my answers, as though to say, "Since you don't really care what I say, Ima push reset and just say whatever I want, such as Yes or No." Sometimes I answered "Yes or no". Still she would refuse to take the hint. Then I became unhinged:

"Water? What sort of thing is that?"
"I got the watermelons. I hired a hitman and everything."
"How do you 'get' soda to pop? Do you stick a needle in it?"
"I don't get it, it isn't funny."
"Purple monkey dishwasher!"
"I used to have an Atari 2600. Then I lost five of them and I couldn't sell it on a garage sale, because it was only an Atari 2595."
"I don't know, you'll have to ask the beep what it meant by 'beep'."

Actually I like her a lot, but she really shouldn't feed me so many great straight lines.

Oh, the Scams You'll Do! 2

Woman comes in line, chatting on a cell phone. Buys about 20-25 items. Doesn't make eye contact with me.

That last bit was strange, because it's usually ME who doesn't make eye contact. (or is it I who don't...? eh.)

A man is behind her , with his own cart, but he seems to be with her. Except in HIS cart there's a small black shopping cartlet and more stuff he hasn't taken out.

In the first cart, a baby can be seen semi-asleep. The baby looks medium-dark skinned, and could just pass as the mother's child, as the mother is semi-tones, but there's no way it could be this man's kid as he's as white as a nonsparkly regular vampire who used Colgate Whitening this morning... on his face!

(Have you solved the mystery yet?)

The man is leaving his items in the cart and waiting for me to finish her order, which suggests he really isn't with her. OK then.

So I finish the order and tell her the total, but she is still ignoring me!

Suddenly, the man is digging in his wallet and I see HE is going to pay for the order. Oh, OK. Transaction goes through, and all is well. I thank the woman, who STILL ignores me but grabs the receipt, and she walks out the door.

Then the man says:

"You think I was taken in?"

By what, her alleged good looks?

"No! I mean, do you think she ripped me off?"

What, didn't you like the groceries she chose to get?

"No, you don't understand. I volunteered to pay for her order. She said she had no money and needed food...!"

Well then, of course you were taken in! You may have noticed she has a cell phone! If she can afford THAT...!

I didn't have the heart to tell him that the number of beggars for food is going to increase in the next couple of years, because of [Deleted to protect the space time continuum!].

At least our receipts don't show the entire credit card number, so she won't get any more of his grotzits.

I can't help but wonder though-- what if he decided to reverse the charge? If it were possible to do that, we would be out money and unable to get it from the woman, about whom I have no information except she had a cell phone where her mouth ought to be and a child in tow, of whom the man was Not! the father.

[Dreamstalker]

Would he be successful in reversing the charge if his signature (and cameras) show that he did in fact use it? I know at my store someone tried to fight a charge by claiming her card was stolen, but it later came to light that while her son was the one to use the card, she was present and signed.

I'll also use the hand scanner for multiple items that weigh a shit-ton; I've (mildly) messed up my shoulder twice now by hauling cases of water/litter/etc across the scanner (which wasn't meant to take that kind of load, which is probably why half of them no longer work). We used to have "PAID" stickers, but they've vanished for some reason.

[Zoom]

Would he be successful in reversing the charge if his signature (and cameras) show that he did in fact use it?

I'm not certain if, assuming our cameras picked him up, that we even kept any of the footage. I've seen the security hub in the boss's office only one or twice for a few seconds while he had his door open, and it doesn't look very formidable or thorough.

I am also not sure the man wouldn't just say that although he paid, it was under false assumptions that, being no longer valid, nullified his responsibility in the matter.

This Bodes Not Well

I have finally had to take a sick day for the first time in eight months.

I'm generally known for taking too many sick days a year, but a strange wellness had come over me in November and I rode it out.

Currently my fever, coughing and mucus have subsided, so I should be good for tomorrow's labor*. What got my goat THIS time was cold indoor weather, apparently.

All I can think of, however, is that though I had enough strength to work four hours instead of the scheduled eight, there was no way to make that sort of thing happen. I'm picturing the junior employee in Menswear on Are You Being Served? coming in sick, trying to get at least some of the day off, and failing profusely.

Still, it's not as if I need lots of money.

*Spelled with a U in the UK, but not with a K. Also they don't spell it "wourk".

A Bit More On Atari 2600

I'm starting to regret calling the outspoken bagger that. Can I apply to change her nickname? And how much does it cost?

Anyway, yesterday (I was sicker, but managed to come in and work four hours), she was asking lots of questions to anyone within earshot.

We're not supposed to ask customers if they want a bag for their water or milk jugs, because they will say Yes, and then we have to waste more bags. We've been trained to death about this-- only give it to them when they ASK for it!

Despite this, A., Atari and a couple of the male baggers have been asking. Constantly.

Now Atari has turned over a new wrinkle in the questionable saga.

Atari: Would you like your water in a bag?
Customer: Yes.
Atari: Yes?

Now we have crossed the Rubicon. She has descended from asking me annoying questions about whether I did something she should have noticed was taking place, to asking the customer whether he wants her to do something it would be in the company's interests for her not to do, to verifying that his answer was exactly what she had heard, when she could have used her brains to do that! (I know for a fact that Atari has great hearing.)

What's next, asking whether she asked him the right question? Asking if he intends to push the shopping cart when she's done loading it? Maybe she should ask if she's in the right store, and someone can then tell her no.

Oh, and Atari claims she asks about the bags because we don't put Pathetistickers on the items. Of course, whether there are stickers doesn't mean a hill of beans, since they're out the door before anyone notices, and it's not like we have sticker-sniffing attack dogs in the parking lot.

Also, I've caught her asking even when I do put on the sticker. And even threats to not sticker anything doesn't stop her from her appointed hounds.

[fireheart]

Two of the registers (one of which is number 4, that number must be cursed) at my store are well-known for the phenomenon. Even cleaning the scanner glass doesn't help -_-

At both my stores, we were cursed with "broken" registers. One of them was incredibly slow: eventually we "fixed" it by banging on it.

The other broken registers all had "broken" conveyor belts. By that I mean that because they worked on a sensor system, sometimes the sensors would get covered in dust, so we'd occasionally give them a spritz of the cleaning spray (and occasionally hand sanitizer) to ensure that they stayed clean.

Yeah, on a few occasions it HASN'T been working, so it would be start-stop-start-stop-start-stop-start-stop. I think the end result was actually jumping on it

[Dreamstalker]

I once 'fixed' one of the scanner/scale decks by lifting it partway out and slamming it back in again; manager A threw a fit ("why you go and break it?"), but it worked fine for the rest of the day. The nonworking belts seem to be due to the plugs getting knocked loose; if the plug isn't in all the way it doesn't make the contact needed to power everything.

[Zoom]

Hitting Below The Belt

The other broken registers all had "broken" conveyor belts. By that I mean that because they worked on a sensor system, sometimes the sensors would get covered in dust, so we'd occasionally give them a spritz of the cleaning spray (and occasionally hand sanitizer) to ensure that they stayed clean.

Yeah, on a few occasions it HASN'T been working, so it would be start-stop-start-stop-start-stop-start-stop. I think the end result was actually jumping on it

Happens all the time.

Maybe about 3-4 years ago (I've forgotten exactly when), we had 2-3 registers whose belts simply WOULD. NOT. FUNCTION. because the cord attached to the sensor was twisted slightly and had the eye looking down at the belt instead of the other eye.

Banging would do no good; neither would holding up the plastic flap concealing the cord which was held so securely in place that one could not believe it could have shifted so, let alone not be possible to shift it BACK.

For some reason, though, banging the belt worked for a while, until it really had to take quite a pounding before working for about five seconds, at which point Myfistolnir got Mighty Sore.

Recently, one conveyor belt actually collapsed, and I thought, "maybe someone was banging on it to get the ocular apparatus to function", but that didn't take into account Ocular's Razor, which states "You'll cut your eye out kid!"

Anyway, it was because of the heavy load of the order by an SC and terrible wooden planking under the belt. (If they don't stop when they've filled the space and wait for more space to open up, they're overloading it.)

[Zoom]

U-Don't-Haul

Hadn't even gotten to work yet, waltzing into the parking lot. Suddenly I hear--

CLANK RATTLE CLANG BLAP CLUNK

--and sure enough, there's a shopping cart on its way down the concrete hill at the end of the lot.

I look up, and there's an SC withdrawing her arms from the "push" position and walking briskly across the driving lane without looking, and into the Burger King lot, into the waiting arms of a U-Haul truck which is parked diagonally across two spots.

The cart crashes into the concrete curb* at the end with a loud CLANG! and I am bemused.

She had nearly hurled the cart at me (I am dressed for work), but of course there is no way that I would have helped, having not punched in yet.

Also, she should have known that where there is NO cart corral, she is supposed to return the cart to the nearest one, or to the store entrance. Her careless shove could have dented a car very badly. Well, not the actual shove, per se.

Worse, this section was nearly empty-- why not park the self-service truck there and not inconvenience the BK custys?

*For UK readers, "kerb".

Doing A Double Take

Not all customers suck, but you can never tell what they're going to do next.

Case in point: A middle-aged gentleman bought a number of things, and with no bagger proceeded to walk over to the far end to bag items himself.

Since I was awaiting payment, I too caught the bagging bug. I noticed him taking a bag and putting it in another bag, so I asked, "Double bagging then?"

He looked up slightly in shock, as though surprised I had figured it out. I then double-bagged everything already on the counter while he ran his credit card.

Then, as I gave him his receipt, he had already taken his bags and placed them in his cart. Hmmm, I thought, must be in a hurry.

Five minutes later, my bagger A. shows up (where was she? no idea) and notices a bag he had left behind: a melon and some cherries.

Or rather, a double-bag; for this was the bag he had promptly forgotten about the moment I scared him with my question.

We had to put them back, which caused consternation 15 minutes later when he showed up unexpectedly. He had to go and get them again.

I noticed when he returned, he didn't ask for it to be doubled; he just threw them in a bag and was done with it.

Please Have Your Sneer Ready, But Not Your Card

Now we are getting customers who, if asked if they have a Patheticard, answer no, and are then sucky upon not getting the full savings. This despite the fact that they aren't even asking for me to run the store card through!

And they're saying NO, which means they haven't been issued a card and are therefore ineligible for the savings. (Which is only slightly more semanterrific than saying "Yes I have the card with me; it's at home.")

My heart bleeds for you. Meanwhile, I get chewed out because I'm not suggesting to anyone that they can get a replacement card at the desk. Well, how do I know they lost their card? They only say they don't have it with them, it could mean a thousand things. And this guy didn't say anything even remotely comprehensible.

Then the man's parting shot was-- "Why are you in such a hurry?"

Why? Haven't you seen the line behind you? Maybe they can wait, but I'm not about to find out; not while I still have a job.

How Long Before They Cart Her Away?

Then Atari started bagging for me. Sure, fine, I need her probing remarks like I need a third nostril to see out of.

Next custy has a large water tank and eleven water jugs, of which only one is on the belt so as to sidestep the Hernia Shuffle.

"Well, me and my friends
We all go to shop
At Pathetica for aqua
To drink every drop
We don't like to lift
Or sprain any muscle
So ring up this heft
Doin' the Hernia Shuffle. Hey Moe!

Anydangway, Atari then asked the eternal question: "Do you need a cart, Ma'am?"

Not noticing the other ten bottles in the cart right there.

Then someone must have pushed her reset button, because there she was next order, asking the same question of a couple who clearly had more of the 24-packs of Pepsi in their cart.

Hello, Hello, Hello

Speaking of the Three Stooges, one bagger whom I'll call Banana Fana for no reason, is always saying, after I crack a joke, "If I wanted to hear comedy I'd watch the Three Stooges."

The other day, he was saying something dull and boring, so I shot back:

"If I wanted to hear drama I'd watch Schindler's List."

Serves him right too.

Cap'n Zoom's Fruity Tales

This ol' landlubber was bereft of pleasant sailing in these treacherous climes, but the kindly stream of gentlefolk that passed our way were given the benefit of our good graces, and we rowed out onto their open pocketbooks. 'Twas enough to bring the ol' scurvy leg to.

But an unfamiliar sight lay in these waters, so I gets out my spying-glass, so I did; and what did I glance upon but a strange fruit with most unusual numberage upon it.

"4547 ho!"

The crew brought up the Cap'n's Log to identify it, but 'twas none in my many journeys and voyages these last nineteen year. So I brought 'er alongside and launched a volley of the finest PLU powder, and a result was quite a pretty!

"Rapini to starb'd!"

A what? I seem to remember the lads doing that about three ports of call ago. Well, whatever floats their whatzit.

But for so rare a fruit to be spotted in these doldrums, bespake to me the sign of the tidings was grim indeed.

Later on, I parlayed with another Cap'n from the good lands of Frontdesk about ringing up a cantaloupe instead of a muskmelon. "Zounds!" I responded. "This trig fruit of the musk has no number on our log. therefore, it don't exist.

"Sail on me lads!"

Age Before Money

So a custy was having words with Atari, probably arguing about the meaning of the Peter Principle or something.

Anyway, to make a point, said custy blabbed her real age, which she admitted to be 74.

Suddenly the total came up, which was $73.85, and she responded at the same time as I, "That's almost my/your age!"

As she paid, she kept pressing the wrong buttons, and this was a simple credit card transaction. Well, in her defense, she said she never did this before.

Then afterwards, she kept asking me if I had rang up her Patheticard. Um, I usually make a point of asking, but I'm glad to double-check your own receipt for you, to help make sure. And thanks for bringing it up after the order was ended.

Nope, there's your savings. "Thank you!" No, thank you.

Then she turned back to me and said, "Did I give you the card?"

"Yes, thanks. It was delicious."

A minute later I said to Atari, "If my memory ever gets like that when I'm 74, shoot me now."

None Of Your Sash

Now all checkers and baggers must wear THE SASH-- a small yellow ribbon to hide behind the old oak tree of our nametags. THE SASH (for henceforth shall it be known in all caps) contains the latest corporate propaganda about loving low prices (G.L.L.P., whose initials spell our dread in the recitation of bad slogans).

None shall question THE SASH!

It's like somewhere, some corporate endboss is proclaiming, "The only way we can squeeze more money out of the poor wretches is if they believe they're paying lower prices! We've got to ram this message hard down their throats! Spraypaint it on walls with their own blood and earwax, if that's what it takes!"

I hate being a billboard for crap.

However, I love when they try to personalize this tragedy-- because I can always get away with doing unspeakable things to these ribbons, which does not make for a very effective message on their part. (And someone should spraypaint a message on their part, it might show them how sloganeering is a very painful process for the employees and customers.)

Big Blow-Out Sale

Sure enough, every time I ring up cake, they have to include a lie, and it's usually about their age.

This time, the candles followed the cake, with "4" and "0" on them.

Naturally, this gives me the chance to declare in a singsong voice, "Somebody's oh-four today!"

Still waiting for customers to correct me on that.

[wolfie]

U-Don't-HaulI look up, and there's an SC withdrawing her arms from the "push" position and walking briskly across the driving lane without looking, and into the Burger King lot, into the waiting arms of a U-Haul truck which is parked diagonally across two spots.

Also, she should have known that where there is NO cart corral, she is supposed to return the cart to the nearest one, or to the store entrance. Her careless shove could have dented a car very badly. Well, not the actual shove, per se.

Never mind denting a car, could have HURT someone. As for the U-Haul, too bad karma couldn't have turned into an A-Haul (as in "Argabarga hauls it away"). BK parking spaces are for people who are busy eating Whoppers, not shopping at Pathetica. Also, from your previous posts, it seems that Pathetica has fairly large stores (and parking lots to match) - large enough to have double "fingers" of parking (i.e. nose-to-tail spots). BK usually doesn't. It's far more convenient to park in a pair of nose-to-tail spots than to shoehorn yourself in diagonally when you've got a large vehicle.

[Zoom]

Pathetica has fairly large stores (and parking lots to match) - large enough to have double "fingers" of parking

Oh, we've got double fingers of parking, flipping off people who can't find a spot.

Actually, our lot ends at the concrete divider before the descent. Back when I was a bagger, we were forbidden to have carts there (I believe it was owned by the other stores in the strip mall) and I used to go around telling people off if they took their carts down the hill.

Ah, sweet apathy of maturity.

Storal Report

Just some lines that today were spoken, or heard, or a combination thereof.

"You remember me, I was just here and you didn't give me back my blank check."
--
"Look at this bunch of carrots... Carrot Top doesn't have green hair, he has red hair... they should call him Tomato Top."
--
"Hey You Money Please!"
--
"Hey, whose meat is this?"
"I didn't ring that up... did you bag it?"
"No."
"How did it get there?"
--
"You're not supposed to take bags off the other registers. If (Bosshole) saw me doing it, she'd write me up."
"She won't write anyone up. Anyway, they're store bags, so who cares?"
--
"Her check was rejected, so I gave it back, but now she's back and the check isn't."
--
"The customer forgot her change!"
"She's right there, why not tell her? Oh never mind."
--
Beep! Beep! Beep! "Do you have your Patheticard?"
"No."
Click! "OK, the total is $17.xx."
"I don't (mumble mumble mumble) water."
"You want me to take off the water?" Beep! "OK. The total is now $10.xx."
"I (mumble mumble mumble) soda."
"OK, soda goes next." Beep! "The total is now $1.20."
"What? Why?"
"You told me to take it off."
"But why the cost of (mumble mumble)?"
"Well, with the card, it would cost less."
"How much (mumble mumble mumble) water?"
Beep! "It's $5.xx."
"OK, and how much (mumble) soda?"
Beep! "$7.99."
"I don't (mumble mumble mumble) water."
"Could you say it louder please?"
"I don't (MUMBLE MUMBLE MUMBLE) water."
"You want me to take it off?"
"OK, bye bye."
--
"Are you sure you gave her the check?"
"She already confessed that she might have dropped it outside."
"But did you give her the check??"
--
BEEPBEEPBEEP (sound of customer setting off the door alarm)
"Happy Beep Day!"
--
"Did you find meat in a bag?"
"No. Oh wait, yes. No, wait, no."
--
"ONE DOLLARS?"
"Yes."
"ONE DOLLARS?!?"
--
"You had bags under there all the time? Well, why didn't you give me any? I just went and got like 4 bags."
"(Bosshole) was bagging; she would have ripped me a new one."
--
"No, Ma'am, the check isn't in the catch tray, and Zoom said it isn't in his drawer... look, if it turns up we'll call you."