Just a lowly cashier complaining about the unknowing irritation you cause by everyday purchasing transactions.

Friday, December 31, 2010

In-Flight Observations

While I would never ever pay for in-flight internet service, because today is New Year's Eve they are offering it for free! So, I'm posting from my flight to Atlanta, GA (which is wonderfully far from Virginia Walmart).

Yesterday, I did go to work for the first time since Christmas Eve and as I walked through the store I was still haunted by the horrible memories of that day. It was also not as busy. It seems that a lot of people must now be broke and can't afford to shop at Walmart (at least until the food stamps kick in at the beginning of the month). Tomorrow will be the food stamp rush and I will happily be missing it. I had the misfortune to work during the first of the month in December and it was the worst week ever. My back ached and my arm muscles screamed because of all the shit people were buying. I'm so glad to be missing that.

Work yesterday wasn't too bad except for the fact that I was more anxious than usual to get off because of my trip home today. I noticed that from my five day absence, I had forgotten quite a few things. My first few customers must have thought I was the shittiest cashier ever because everything screwed up: register tape was out, credit machine wasn't working, etc... It was so easy for me to forget other things too like the produce codes. It was just easier over the last five days to pretend that Walmart was just a bad dream.

Today instead of relating some observations in the customer service world, I'm going to relate some observations that I've made about flying. Firstly, as I was sitting in my seat and waiting for the flight to take off I was watching the flight attendants help various people shove their superfluous amount of carry=ons, I couldn't help but wish I could stumble upon a flight attendants blog that is along the same lines as mine. I'm sure they'd have some great stories of customer stupidity.

One of the last few people to get on the plane (a extremely disheveled-looking family) at 5:45 am burst into tears because... the family's seats weren't together (?). Or... I'm assuming that's what it was but a grown woman was in tears when she saw she had to sit somewhere else in the plane than her husband and kids. It was ridiculous.

Everytime I fly I am just surprised at how much shit people feel the need to bring on a plane. I've got my purse and my laptop case and that's it. Why does someone really need that much stuff for a flight? It's like they're thinking, "Oh no! What if my hair goes flat and I need my curling iron but it's in my checked bag?! Better bring it on..." or "You never know when you're going to need that yoga mat! I better toss it in my carry-on."

And then there's kids. There's a on-and-off crying kid that is sitting diagonally from us. There's also about three or four other kids scattered around this flight, we're surrounded! Too bad you can't check your kids with the luggage. I even saw one kid throw his pacifier in the row behind him and nail some poor guy in the face. Nice.

How come as soon as that seat belt sign goes off, there's always somebody in the bathroom already? It's like they tightened their seatbelt too tightly down on their bladder and they've been in agony since take off. Throughout the flight there's always someone in the bathroom also It seems people try their hardest to at least visit the bathroom on the plane once. Me, on the other hand, try my hardest to avoid that airplane bathroom like the plague. I don't find sitting on a bucket=sized toilet in a tiny metal room, not my idea of a fun time.

The airplane bathroom is nothing compared to a bathroom on a train. I took a train from Arizona to LA one time that had originated in Florida and that bathroom was in worse condition than a port-a-potty at a state fair after an intense chili cook-off. They're also really tiny too so not only was it extremely dirty but you had minimal room to navigate what small spots were clean. Yuck.

Time to doze now.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Too Much Information

Yesterday I stopped into Walmart to check what time I work today because I never bothered to write down my schedule. I fully expected not to be back but whatever. Walmart now feels different for me. I used to have fun going there and looking around but now it definitely isn't as fun because I am haunted by the horrific memories of Christmas Eve. I also didn't like the potential of seeing people that I work with on the other side of the register.

I went to one of my coworker's line and I have no idea if he recognized me or not. He didn't really act like he did so I'm hoping he didn't know it was me, the girl who's been calling off for the last three days but I magically show up to shop. He also exhibited one of the cashiering faux pas: TMI.

The "How are you?" question doesn't really need to be elaborated. Even when I was so sick that my voice came out like a croak, I never complained to the customer. Why would they care if I'm sick? The cashier complained that he had been stuck on the register next to the door for the duration of Monday's snow storm. Well, it's not my problem that you are so dedicated to your cashiering job that you felt the need to show up in a SNOW STORM while most people called off (and customers had to be fucking crazy or high to even think that going shopping was a better alternative than staying home where you can't slide into a ditch).

I hate when customers share too much with me (especially when they want to talk and talk and talk when I'm trying to shove them out of the line) so I'm not going to bother my customers with my problems. As a customer, I've had cashiers that seem to be more occupied holding a conversation than scanning my items. I hate this because the whole time they're talking, I'm not paying attention to their story because I'm thinking "hurry up" the entire time.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A Pregnant Pause

Every time I go on my Facebook page, it is a barrage of posts about my various "friends" pregnancies. There are so many people my age procreating that is is ridiculous. Even the other day I received an email from the lame/mainstream wedding website theknot.com which was sent to me because it's already been six months since my wedding and they were just making me aware of their sister pregnancy websites. No thanks. I am bombarded with enough pregnancies and stupid children at work and on my Facebook page that I do not need to see any websites about either.

Facebook is both good and bad. Because of it, I am now more aware of how idiotic the people I know are. I have a front-row seat in their ridiculous lives (which is not so bad because I am super nosy). But, there is a point at which I don't care about your life. When you one day announce on Facebook to the world and your friends that you are pregnant, it is at that time I both send a generic "Congratulations" and then groan because I know for the next nine months I'm going to be hearing about your swollen ankles, morning sickness (which makes me picture you hurling in a toilet), and hemorrhoids. I'm also going to now be pestered with pictures of your naked, growing, stretch-marked belly when I go on my news feed. Then, you're going to make that growing belly your profile picture... or your ultrasound picture which makes it look like you are growing a crawfish/alien thing inside of you. I don't need to see your growing fetus on my news feed. It is possible to just make a album with the pictures related to your pregnancy and not post it on the updates. Or you could just make it so only your family or close friends (who care about the tot you're going to squeeze out) can see.

Then there's the pregnant women who come through my line at work. When I see a pregnant woman with two or three more ill-behaved children frolicking around and in the cart I immediately want to say to them, "Oh, you think the first few came out so well you want to have another, huh?"

Which leads me to Carlin on the topic of child worship. Child worship is very real and it starts with the fucking pregnancy worship I see everyday on my Facebook page (right now I can think of five people I know who either just gave birth or are pregnant out of my 60 or so friends).

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Motorized Cart People

Today is snow day number three. I am not traipsing through knee-deep snow to my bus stop where I can wait for a bus that might or might not come and might or might not kill me on the icy roads on the way there just so I can stand behind a register for eight hours and listen to people bitch.

All this time at home has given me some wonderful time to watch my neighbors though. It's been hilarious to watch their various tactics for getting out of the snow/ice. These past few days if I have heard squealing tires, I run to the window and frantically search for the source. I've made a few observations:

1.) Towels/jackets do not work at gaining traction.

I saw this a few minutes ago. The white truck in the background has a towel/jacket under the back tire. I just saw it ricochet clear past the stop sign, it was hilarious.

2.) People severely overestimate their strength and actually believe that they can by sheer muscle move their car and push it out of the ice.
3.) Boiling water on the stove and applying it to the snow/ice around your rear tires is not a good idea. For some reason the water cools down and creates more ice, who would have thought?!
4.) People will risk their lives on the roads for the most mundane things.

I'm even pretty sure that people risked their lives to go to Walmart. Not me. Nor will I ever put myself in any danger to be present at that job.

They probably risked their lives so they can go and spend more money because the snow closed all the malls and it's the only store that would be dumb enough to still be open in this inclement weather even though half the staff called off. Hopefully the snow scared off one type of customer because of their inability to shop and travel in the snow: the Motorized Cart People.

As a customer and now as an employee I have noticed that the Motorized Cart People are some of the meanest and most bitterly, inexplicably rude people that I have ever seen. I don't know if it's just their normal attitude to be complete douches or if they are complete douches because their butts are planted in a motorized cart that advertises to the world their inability to be mobile (or their overweightyness). Motorized Cart People are always accompanied by an individual who is usually bashed and berated for the entire shopping trip. They have to do the job of both people (because usually the MCP are just sitting there ready to press a button to move and that's it) and just generally look down trodden. I'd feel sorry for them but they let the MCP push them around.

And what's worse than a regular MCP? It's a Motorized Cart Mom. I've seen them many times and they're usually with their adult son (who probably lives at home still). They scream, belittle and call them names. It's really uncomfortable for me because I'm torn between sympathy for the sap that has to live with the bitch and irritation because I just want them both to leave.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Snow Day

The weather outside is crazy so I didn't think cashiering was worth threatening my life over today after our 6+ inches of snow. I stayed home as I'm sure most of the people that work there did. So, instead of complaining about a customer issue today I'm just going to simply share a scene from the movie "Clerks" which speaks to all clerks/cashiers out there.

Clerks- Stupid Questions

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Customers Fail at Life

I don't even know where to begin to talk about yesterday, Christmas Eve. Walmart was a fucking mad house, to be completely blunt. Firstly, I should have known from the looks of the traffic that things were going to be terrible. I was twenty-five minutes late because the parking lot and the streets around Walmart were packed, busy and full of procrastinating assholes.

For the first few hours of my shift, instead of being thrust onto a register I was shoved into doing re-shop (which is sorting all the shit people discard at registers and check lines into their respective departments). I hate doing re-shop. My first assignment was to take a cart of items back to the toy section. They might as well have thrown me into a pool of hungry sharks because at any turn, people were tripping over themselves to ask me stupid questions. I utilized the "I'm just a cashier" excuse many times. This seems to be acceptable to people as if their reasoning is, "Oh, just a cashier. I get it, she's stupid." And I don't especially care if they reach that conclusion either. I don't give a fuck.

I did re-shop for four hours. I took items to toys (the worst), bath and home sections and even grocery. I thought the home and bath sections might be clearer of people. I was wrong. For some reason people thought fucking Christmas Eve in the very center of shopping rush hour would be a wonderful time to outfit their home with new, cheapy made-in-China Walmart mini blinds. Or an iron. Or a fucking chef's hat. Yes, someone asked me if we had chef's hats. (I know someone's going to have a shitty Christmas if that's what they're going to be opening up.)

I had many dumb and irritating questions. While I was busy mentally chanting a mantra of "Don't ask me a question, don't ask me a question" someone stopped me to ask me where the lip gloss would be. "Would it be in grocery?" Really? Lip gloss would be in grocery and not in fucking cosmetics?! I wanted to scream in her face, "You FAIL AT LIFE!"

I seriously have no idea how these people make it in their day to day lives with their complete lack of self-sufficiency. When they walk through the fucking double doors at Walmart they expect to have everything catered to them just because they breathe. As a customer, I usually try to solve my own problem before bothering someone with asking a question. If something's not in the section after a thorough search, I then ask. And when I DO ask, I don't say it in a fucking rude way like some people do. Yesterday, I heard many "Excuse me...," "Ma'am...," and "Where is the..." But what I hate is when I make a brief eye contact with someone and they just simply state something as if it's a question.

"Potatoes." And that's it. That's fucking rude. Is it really that hard to form a damn sentence? I remember many times greeting someone at my old job (a small grocery/convenience store) and they don't even say hello back but bark that one word question/statement. After that exchange, I have labeled you an ASS.

As bad as my job can be sometimes, I really feel for the custodial staff. At 8:00 when we were closing the doors, one of the customers alerted me that some girl was puking all over the toilet in the bathroom. Just another example of the kinda sick fucks that are out there in society (and in Walmart). No one wants to clean up after themselves. I felt so bad watching the little custodial lady go in there and run out and stand by her cleaning cart with a wrinkled nose while the stupid puker emptied her guts in the Walmart bathroom. (They really shouldn't call it a 'ladies' room because sometimes there's nothing lady-like about what goes on in there.)

We had everyone out of the store by 8:15 (including the glassy-eyed puker who I saw stumbling out of the bathroom) and then for the rest of the time all of the cashiers were doing re-shop. A fellow cashier and I had not had our last breaks yet so we sat down for a few minutes. Another cashier (who I mentally just call her Trailer Park Girl because I don't know her name, nor care to... she looks white trashy) walked by like she was the Queen of the Cashiers and asked aloud, "Why do we have people sitting down?" The CSM simply answered, "Because they're tired." TPG then answers, "Well, I'm tired too but you don't see me sitting down." Fucking pissed me off. Get over yourself, girl.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Slower Than Christmas

It's almost like I'm underwater and nearly out of air, but right as my fingertips touch the surface I become dragged further into the icy depths by some strange and unseen force. I can't believe this is happening. They are granting me, the new and supposedly seasonal hire, ten days off. What the hell? When I went to pick up my check the chick in the personnel office asked me if I wanted to stay on past the seasonal position. I said no because I'd need the time off and then she said she'd go right on the computer and approve it. I said I'd stay. I know... :( But why would I say no the potential to make money and get to visit home? That would be just stupid, I guess. (Or is it more stupid to stay?) My only comfort is that I'd be there over 20 hours less than I am there now a week. That's a comfort. I still hate riding the bus.

The bus stop right now is cold, windy and moronic motorists honk at me. I have vowed to never do that again to a pedestrian or anyone standing at a bus stop. I obviously don't know anyone here so when I hear the horn, I know it's not a friendly greeting. To me, the horn almost sounds mocking (*honk-gotta-car-you-don't-honk*). I also lost my glove there (which I still look for everyday in the ditch, bushes and storm drain even though if I did find it I would never reclaim it). For some reason whenever I lose something, I just feel off-kilter. My world isn't right anymore because something that was mine is missing. Which is why it was always difficult for me to loan out pens in school because if someone didn't give it back, I'd think about it randomly for the rest of the day ("I wonder what my pen is writing right now? Is anyone chewing on the nice, new cap?! Where is it?").

Today was a bitch. Non-stop customers from 9:30-6:30. The day was long but it also went pretty fast. A tip I have for today: I will help you if you aren't a dick.

It was already 6:30 and I was helping one last person. My light was off and I'd already told the Pushy Dude that I was closed. Upon seeing one of my managers come to my line to ask me if she could buy a candy bar (because she doubted she'd get a lunch), I of course agreed to sell her that one item before logging off. Pushy Dude sees this act and decides to try again. He's denied. Not only by me but by my manager. He tries to argue with her and he loses. The sad thing is that if he wasn't such an asshole, I would have easily rung up that one item he had. But, he chose to make a stink and be annoying so he had to wait in the long lines. Too bad. I hope he's still there.

Today I saw an overabundance of fucking slow-as-molasses people. I shouldn't be surprised at how decidedly self-centered and uncourteous people are but I can't help but be annoyed with them. People take forever to unload their carts. They take forever to load their carts. They take forever to move their asses with their cart out of the way. They take forever to put the money in their wallets. They take forever to get out their wallets to pay because they are always seemingly surprised that they are expected to produce some sort of payment.

The strange thing is: the rest of the line gets annoyed with this slow behavior yet they do the same fucking thing when they get up there! It is almost always the women. Women take forever to get out their wallets because it's buried beneath the superfluous amount of shit they carry around. And then they tear out a check and hand it to me which leads me to wonder why people even use checks anymore. You know what I do with it? I put it in the machine, it reads the number, prints some shit on it and I give it back. Now you have some stupid paper with all your info on it that you have to worry about losing before you can destroy the damn thing. Get a fucking card. It's faster (usually, unless I get some grandma who hasn't even seen an ATM before let alone a debit/credit machine) and you don't have to shred a used check.

Sometimes while I'm bagging things and it's starting to get full and the distracted fuckwad has yet to unload their cart, I daydream about what would happen if I decided to throw all their shit on the floor. I'd just spin the bagging carousel and let the items fall where they may.

Strangely, I also daydream about using my hand little scanner to scan someone in the eyes. Do you think that would hurt? I swear, every time I take that thing out I get a mental image of them holding up the item and me using it to point right at their eyeballs and them blinking stupidly as they are temporarily blinded. In the daydream they sometimes drop the item and clutch their hands to their eyes and scream, "My eyes!" I think it would be hilarious.

Speaking of the hand scanner, the other day I nearly chuckled to myself because I was having a really bad day and one of my customers asked, "Do you have a gun?" (Which she meant the hand scanner...) And I wanted to laugh maniacally and say, "No, but I wish!" Muhahaha!

I'm Just a Cashier

So, I figure that I only have about five more days of being a Walmart cashier. They scheduled me for New Year's Eve and I'm taking off so, I'm done. One of my fellow seasonal hires has only 17 hours during the week after Christmas. Would it even be worth it to take not only one, but two buses to work for four hours a day?! No. That's why I'm not too sorry to be leaving. That and I wanted to punch just about every customer in the throat yesterday. It was to the point that if any customer really complained about the price and it wasn't too off from what it scanned, I just gave it to them so I didn't have to hear their whiny bitching. I'll tell you, most of those customers yesterday had something stuck up their asses. Must be the glorious holiday season!

I wonder... do the customers just go through the store, throw shit in and then come to the register and hope and pray that it falls under your magic budget number? I don't know how many fucking times I had to hear, "Don't let me go over [x # of dollars]." I hate this. It holds up the line because you're contemplating what you're getting when you discover that the cart of shit is more than $100 (I know! Who'd have thought that would be possible at Walmart?) It's not my job to keep you within budget. If you're really that worried, mentally add up some of the things in your cart so you have a ballpark figure. And if that requires too much brain power for the stupid, shambling, consuming masses why don't you bring a calculator?!?!?!

The above scenario often leads to this one: I'm wildly scanning away, hoping I'll get to the bottom of my endless line and the customer halts the transaction, "WAIT! I thought my hideous grandma-shirt turtleneck was $5!!!!!" It's then that I've decided that I have no qualms saying, "I have no idea, I'm just a cashier." That's become my new favorite cop out. I have employed it many times now. What I really want to say is, "I don't know, I just ring your shit up." Maybe I should use that on the last day?

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Low Prices and Low Morale

Last night I had to wake myself up to actually tell myself to stop dreaming about helping customers. Working in your dreams is really horrible, especially if you're waking up to go back. One night last week I picked up the votive off my nightstand in my sleep and tried to use my pillow sham to bag it. My coworkers told me that's Walmart Syndrome. Not cool! Well, I probably won't have to worry about Walmart Syndrome much longer... yesterday I put in for my time off. My training coordinator's eyes nearly came out of her head when I said I needed ten days off. I also told her I'm going to leave whether they grant me the time or not. She said that I was going to made permanent so it was unfortunate that I'd most likely be terminated. Whatever. I wasn't going to stay there forever. Getting there was such a bitch and so is working there. It'll be nice to leave the Walmart ball and chain behind.

Besides, there's always more crappy customer service/cashiering jobs I can suffer in until I find somewhere that'll hire a Psych undergrad with not much experience. This whole thing has made me feel stuck in a rut. I've been graduated since May and all I have to show for it is... working at Walmart, which is something I'd be qualified to do with a GED.

Cashiering at Walmart, I've found, really is a place of low morale. It's the lowliest position in the store yet you have to deal with the most assholes. I feel talked down to by most customers and managers. It's fucking hard to be polite when your managers sound disinterested and look even annoyed when you approach them. The tones of their voices imply that they think you are an idiot and a lot of them don't even look at you when you're talking. Hell, during my interview the hiring manager held his head in his hands and looked like I was giving him a seminar on paint drying.

A few of the Customer Service Managers talk to you or look at you like the questions you are asking them are the most obvious things in the world. I don't like when one of the CSM's (let's call him Dick) is working because he always looks so damn annoyed when I need anything (looking back I can't recall him smiling... ever. You could probably say the same thing about me). I call for change or help a million times and it's like I'm on a sinking ship sending out an unanswered distress signal. The stupid little fucking light we're supposed to blink when we're having problems usually doesn't work because the CSMs are so wrapped up in their own bullshit problems to notice when the cashiers need help instead of doing what they're supposed to be doing: helping us.

And it's not just the CSMs or management that seemingly try to trample your self-esteem, it's the customers as well. As my husband said the other day (who has also worked as a cashier in the past), "Why do people think that your IQ drops just because you step behind a register?" I'm not sure but I definitely know it's true. While most customers are relatively polite and courteous, a lot of them (when anything in wrong in the transaction) seem to look at you like you're a fucking moron. Sure, my job in theory seems pretty easy. On good days, it's not that bad. But I have to stand in one place for hours, strain my back picking up things, bending over and bagging them repeatedly for eight hours and deal with a large assortment of customers (who are sometimes complete douchebags).

Me: "How are you?"
Customer: "Ugh! I'm sooooooooooooo tired! I've been in the store nearly two hours!"
Me: What I want to say:"Fuck you! I've been here nearly seven hours and I don't want to hear how damn tired you are. I don't care!!!!"

I know it sounds mean but that's how I feel.

I have only once been witness to the Walmart cheer and to me, it was condescending. A cheer, really? I don't understand how that stupid cheer is going build solidarity among employees. If anything just clapping alone made me feel like a fucking moron. I remember looking around the room and thinking, "People are seriously okay with doing this?" Some were smiling and having fun and I just didn't get it. Various times over the last few weeks I've had the distinct gut feeling of "I don't belong here" and during that cheer I felt it the most.

Sometimes I feel ashamed of myself because I do look at the other cashiers and feel a sense of superiority. I am always polite and courteous to them but deep down, I think "This job is okay for them, not me." Is that wrong? To one cashier I was making a joke and basically asking why some people have certain bagging preferences and that it doesn't really matter. She replied emotionlessly that, "They're the customer, they have their own way of doing things and I respect that." Respect that?!? Bagging choices is not something to respect, it usually is the mark of a fucking anal-retentive and controlling asshole who can't NOT be involved in something. In the grand scheme of life, it's not going to fucking matter how your groceries are packed! I have no problem if you have a certain way you want something bagged (like if you're dropping off certain items somewhere) but if you take everything and rebag it, it's going to piss me off. That just shows me that you are a control freak and can't even have someone bag your groceries without you being involved somehow. I felt like saying to the girl, "And that's why you're going to be a cashier forever."

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

We Stand Divided

I finally got to the doctor this morning and I now have meds to clear up this sinus infection before next week! The doctor made small talk and asked me if I was in school or working, "I have my degree and I work at Walmart." He did a double take. Yes dude, I know... Well, we'll see if I really will be working at Walmart much longer after I drop the news today that I'm leaving for ten days to go home.

Ever used the little dividers on the cash register counter? Yeah, those things annoy the hell out of me. For one, I always end up on a register that is missing one. As a result, during just about every transaction I have on that register I have to hear the question, "Do ya have a divider?!" No. So they look agitated at the thought that, "Oh no! Their stuff could touch MY stuff!"

You'd think that they were in the Oklahoma land race and they were staking claim on some property. That THIS area of the belt is reserved for their stuff only and that if you breach that barrier, there's going to be some problems. They feel the need to tell me that, even though there is a clearly marked space between customer's items, that THIS is theirs and the line is the end of their order. No duh.

There's also the times where I have scanned the last item for the first customer's orders and both the front customer and the following one feel the need to nearly come out of their skin and exclaim that that was the last item. For some reason, this really agitates people. They don't enjoy the thought that their gallon of milk is fraternizing with the next customer's orange juice. If they are touching AT ALL people feel the need to shove them away from each other as if they are going to start infecting each other or something.

Then there are some people who hardly leave a space and get mad at me when I just wildly assume that items shoved on a belt together belong to the same order. What the hell was I thinking, right? And if ONE item gets scanned that's not theirs they freak the fuck out even though getting rid of the item is a hit of a button away. One tap and the item is retracted, it's not a reason to raise your blood pressure or bulge your eyes at me. If you were fucking paying attention to the progression of your transaction instead of staring off into space, you would have noticed the other customer's items inching into your belt territory.

All I ask for is for people to be a little more aware of what is going on. Being at the register is not an excuse to mentally check out. Do that when you're driving home... well, for some people they are always mentally checked-out.

And then after you've berated me for daring to ring up someone else's chapstick and I've handed you the receipt with a "Thank you, have a nice day" you reply with "You're welcome." I absolutely hate that. I'm thanking you for shopping here, not some stupid personal favor you have done for me. You just don't say, "You're welcome" because it makes you sound like an asshole. If anything it's a mutual "thank you" because I'm thanking you for shopping (even though I couldn't give a shit where you shop) and you're thanking me for putting up with you through the checkout line. You say "you're welcome" when you have actually really DONE SOMETHING for me. I guess saying "you're welcome" is better than nothing but it makes me wish I had stacked cans on top of your bread.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Awkward Purchases

As a customer, you don't want to think about the things you're buying that are potentially embarrassing and exposing. I do the same thing... I had to buy a bra at Walmart yesterday and it was difficult deciding which cashier (that I see on a daily basis) that I would allow to touch this undergarment. Either a lot of people were buying condoms yesterday and I just happened to come across them, but it seemed like everyone buying Trojans were headed to my line.

When you are just buying the items singularly, it is more awkward than when you are buying the KY or even a douche with the rest of your groceries. If you buy it alone, I know why you came here and it's just weird. I try to throw those Trojans in the bag as quickly as I can because I don't want to touch the box too long. Mentally, I grab the box of condoms like I'd be grabbing a dead spider and throw it in the bag with an "Eww!" like a sissy girl. I know that's juvenile but if you saw some of the cretins that I see buying condoms, you'd understand. I almost want to thank them for choosing not to procreate with each other because we already have enough freaky babies coming into the world. (Side note: is it me or are most babies nowadays really ugly and scary-looking? I have hardly seen one cute baby in the last year, the gene pool must be getting dry.)

Yesterday the first condom buyers came through my line. The guy had the body of a fourteen year old and the face or someone who has most likely spent most of his time playing World of Warcraft. The lady had the body of a garden gnome: stubby, short, and thick. Now I'm not saying weird people can't have sex, but I am upset that I was now kind of involved in it. Because of me, they can now do it... bleh.

Another awkward moment came last week when two coworkers came through my line who I now know are a couple. It's weird to see someone you've passed on a daily basis buying condoms from you. Under normal circumstances you really don't want to think about them doing anything along those lines... and now I know that after you left work, you were going to do it. Too much information, thanks for sharing. Why didn't you go to one of the old ladies who have eyesight so bad they can't even see what the item is unless they put it up to their glasses?

If you're just buying condoms, please don't be a couple that is all over each other. It totally weirds me out. I don't want to see any pre-game action. He then placed the small pack of Trojans on the counter and paid the $3.13 with a GIFT CARD! This nearly made me laugh. I kept thinking... "I wonder who the gift card was from. Would his Grandma or boss or parent ever think he'd buy such a thing with their gift?"

Then there was a memorable gentleman a couple weeks ago who bought cookies and condoms. That's it. And not even GOOD cookies, the cheaper-than-Walmart generic cookies. But this scenario begs the question, "What is a good thing to buy WITH condoms?" Consequently, because of what you use condoms for... anything bought in culmination could be potentially hilarious. Frozen veggies? Milk? Peanut butter? A DVD? Wooden spoon? They all sound weird.

One man thought it would be clever to hide his bottle of KY under his group of frozen dinners. Sorry sir, that didn't work. Everyone saw it!

Before working at Walmart, I had no idea how many women bought douches. I thought that it was rather well known that those aren't good for you. But, about 4 out of 10 of my female customers every day buy a douche. I also try to get that baby in the bag quickly because... eww. Women also buy such a large variety of hygiene products. By that I mean, one woman will buy up to three or four different pads, tampons or liners. Seriously, how many do you go through!? Are you buying for a Sorority house here!?

I don't like touching your underwear either. The male underwear isn't so bad because those are in bags, wrapped up and easily scannable. It's the women's underwear that is annoying. They're usually hanging on a little flimsy hangar (that gets caught on everything!) and I have to bring your undies/bras across the same scanner that I scanned a bag of juicy chicken parts. Yuck, huh? It's just strange to touch other people's underwear. I know they haven't worn them yet but... they're going to. Maybe right when they get home.

Same thing with bras. If they are especially huge bras, I will say "Daaaaamn" to myself as I try to stuff the huge cups into the bag. I will also look at the size of your clothes and mentally assess whether or not they are for you, someone else and if such a size would really fit you or if it's a size I will wear I will think to myself, "Do [I] really look like that?!"

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Customer Clichés

After having two days off, I get to go back to work on my birthday. And since we didn't win the Powerball drawing last night, I can't quit today either. Damn. But, I'm determined not to have a bad workday because who knows, it may be one of my last when I drop the bomb later this week that I'll be needing ten days off. (But what will I write about if I'm not a cashier?!)

As a customer in the crazy shopping rush yesterday, I witnessed something that gets on my nerves when said to me: "Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" The statement is always followed by a pleased laugh as if the customer is convinced that the statement is perfectly ingenious and witty. It's not. In fact, I've heard it millions of times in the past seven years over the course of my customer service nightmare. Get a new line!!!

There's also an ever-faithful following of people who for some reason believe in the unwritten and unstated rule that: "If it doesn't scan it's free." I don't know where the fuck someone came up with this Unwritten Scan Policy or why it has been so universally adapted but I hear that at least three times a day. After five years working in grocery cashiering, it's gotten pretty old. I hate it. My blood nearly boils every time I hear it, especially if you've been a jerk through the entire transaction. It makes me want to impale you in the eyeball with the debit/credit machine pen.

Today I vow not to let the old customer clichés, "Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" or the Unwritten Scan Policy bother me. And if it does I will employ my secretly aggressive tactics on you:

If you're a lady and you get on my nerves and you plop your purse on my grocery belt as you dig in your purse (usually these are the customers that dig in their bag for ten minutes looking for a form of payment), I'm going to move it. When you grab your bag before it rolls away from you, I'm going to act like it was a complete mistake and say sweetly, "Oh, I'm so sorry! These things... they just have a mind of their own."

I also dislike when ladies put their purses on the bagging carousel and park themselves in front of it while they dig through their tootsie roll trash to look for their money or card. For one, I can't move the damn thing to bag anything and two, I'm going to move it. So... grab your purse before it spins away or flies out into the floor. And if that happens, I will apologize sweetly and proclaim my innocence.

I will also bag your items as horribly as I can. If people are nice, I bag the groceries nicely. It's usually the people who completely ignore my greeting and subsequent "How are you?" question that I employ this tactic on. Your bread... might be smooshed. And I will bag your Twilight DVD with a hunk of cheese (well... like items, right? I totally did this the other day!). Your Oreos will be beside your Spaghetti sauce jar and they will most likely be smashed by the time you get home.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Preaching at the Register

I was supposed to work from 1-10 yesterday but due to insanely annoying weather conditions (snow, sleet, rain) it took longer than usual for everyone to get to work. I was late but once I arrived, all of the customer service managers thanked me for braving the elements since so many people had called off. And last night was one of those nights I was okay working. It was a weird day (because of the weather) and I like working weird days because my customers are usually in a better mood when there's something happening and something to talk about. I was just thrilled I didn't have to take the bus to work in all that snow and muck... especially since on the bus the day before I lost my glove somehow as I stepped onto the bus and didn't want to replace it with the suspicious latex glove that I ended up sitting next to.

Since becoming married and having to give up my car so my husband can use it, I have now had to become familiar with the public transportation system. This has been frustrating for me because I have to 1) scrounge change together for my $3 fare 2) depend on the bus to actually show up and as I've seen in the past, it might not and 3) share a vehicle with the strangest people of society. I no longer have the freedom to just get in my car and go where I want to and when I want to. But, it gets me to my job which I guess is good, right?.... right?

Of course one of my first customers had a grabby kid who grabbed the credit card machine AND RIPPED IT OFF THE STAND! The mother didn't look concerned at all and just said in a calm voice to him, "Oh, look what you did... you broke it" as I fumbled and tried to figure out what the fuck kinda voodoo this kid had just performed to rip the thing off in two seconds. Of course the stupid kid's only emotionally available response was "Uh oh!" The mother pissed me off more than the kid did. She didn't even apologize that her spawn had just possibly broken something expensive and was now clogging my line.

Upon opening up one of my registers the other day I found something that probably most likely no cashier wants to end up with which is why it was sitting idly at my register:

Some might argue that there is never a bad time to spread the word and all that, but I have to disagree (especially since it's from a Mormon). I don't want to listen to anything you preach to me at work, even if it's just handing me a card. I've had this happen on many occasions and it always freaks me out when I hand someone change and they give me something back. I also don't want to listen to you preach to me as ring up something like your Immodium AD (because then I'll just be thinking, "Ok, dude, you better hurry up and spit this out before you have to visit the shitter again.")

On the subject of religion at work, I have made an observation that, because I've seen it in Arizona and now Virginia, I have now applied it to the entire group. It seems that just about all middle aged to older aged Mennonite women are rude. I don't know what it is... is it the oppression, the silly hats, they're jealous I can have my hair down and don't have to wear unflattering boxy dresses, or the self-righteousness? I'm not exactly sure but it has been a rare occasion that I have seen one smile and if I do, it's never at me. I have noticed that they kind of treat me with civility because they [have] to come into contact with me since I'm the gateway to leave the store. But, I can't help but imagine that every time they are out they are looking at everyone and assuring themselves that we're all damned.

So please, don't damn your cashier. That would make for an awkward transaction.

Speaking of awkward transactions, there have been a few weird moments for me this holiday season as I have checked out the many parents who are purchasing toys for their kids. I have noticed that there are increasingly more parents just buying Santa's toys in front of the kids. I'm not talking babies either. These kids are well over three and up. Where's the surprise and the mystery of Christmas? I mean, I was always so amazed on Christmas morning at how my presents got there and when I saw Santa had eaten the cookies (I always looked around and thought to myself, "Oh wow! Santa was standing RIGHT HERE!"). But I've noticed a trend that more and more people are just buying it with the kids. To me, that's weird and totally not as fun.

And when I've been checking out those parents with those bulky and weird-shaped toy boxes, I must say the weirdest moments happen when I take out the big Walmart bag. Those animatronic pets you can get now that are motion sensor and meow and move as you bring the UPC across the scanner are really weird to bag. It's something about putting a moving, meowing animal into a bag that just feels wrong to me. There was also a time where I was stuffing Minnie Mouse into a bag as a child with a quivering lip watched that made me feel like I was black-bagging Minnie, and she would be never heard from again. And just last night I bagged a large baby doll which also made me feel uncomfortable.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Hardest Part

I was still sick yesterday and living off of Halls in attempt to numb my throat. Oddly enough, this morning I have awoken feeling as if my sore throat never happened. I'm glad because I think I was starting to freak people out. I noticed that some of them would be loading the belt with their groceries, I'd say, "Hello" (I forgot the "How are you?" WAY too painful) and they'd look from their cart quickly as if thinking, "UH What was that horrible noise?!" or "Did that come from the girl I saw behind the register?!" Why yes, yes it did. One customer asked me where I was from as if my horribly scratchy throaty-sounding voice was an accent. "Oh! I thought you were Southern. Southern people are so nice." What...??

Much to my displeasure, last night was not only full of sore throat pain but a brand of customers called Overzealous Baggers. For some reason, I saw a large abundance of these people yesterday. Taken in small doses, I can handle the Overzealous Baggers. But yesterday... it was all I could do to not snap at them (one person I did, she was a foreign old lady and she probably had no idea what I was saying).

You'd think that the store was on fire by the speed at which they are attempting to remove their bags from the bagging carousel. Many times, they swing the carousel (which is MY turf, back the fuck off! I move the thing, you pick up bags. Easy as that.) before I even have the opportunity to put everything in the bag that I was going to. So, that perfectly arranged set up of the Club cracker box, Ritz box, and five Mac & Cheese is now ruined thanks to your overzealousness.

Usually my only pleasure I get from my job is packing things in a perfectly arranged manner. I like to arrange the items according to size, type, and package type (like bag, pouch, box, etc.). For some reason, there are times (not often) when I actually enjoy bagging... like a giant puzzle. And when it's on the carousel, it looks perfect. The boxes fit nicely, the chip bags and bread are nestled together and the bags of cans are sitting there ready to be put down into the cart first. And then... the customer fucks it up by putting the chips in first, cans on top or sitting in the cart so they're all tumbled over. They usually just throw the shit in the cart when they're shopping and they do the same when they are done checking out. Then they wonder why their bread looks like someone's old couch cushion.

But there were quite a few times yesterday when a customer nearly hit my forearm as I was bagging by trying to move the carousel. Or worse, I have just scanned something and am about to put it in the awaiting, open bag. It is at this moment the moronic customer decides to move the carousel which prevents me from bagging. Such is the nature of the Overzealous Bagger! When I want you to grab the shit, I will move it towards you. How hard is that to understand?!

The old foreign lady also committed another customer faux pas yesterday. She was with a younger woman (also foreign and speaking some weirdo language I have never even heard) who brought up two carts bulging with stuff.

"Stop when I get to $150," she said and I began to ring up her things. I figured, as will happen lots of times, that she wanted to use the rest of her food stamp money and then pay the rest with her cash or card. Of course she didn't have all over her items on the belt when I reached $150. While the older lady is paying the younger one looks to me and wheels the cart around toward me, "We're not getting this," she said.

"Really??" I asked and instead of holding my easygoing cashier-face I allowed myself to look exasperated and annoyed. Which, I was. She said they were sorry which was a big fucking lie. If you were really sorry you wouldn't have left the poor people at customer service to resort your shit when you should've known it TWO carts would be more than $150, fucktard. Just another example of idiots underestimating the cost of things. Why not bring a calculator?

I try to be a nice and courteous cashier. But then I realize that most of my customers are assholes so being nice and courteous is probably the hardest part of my job.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Price Debaters, No Personalities, and the Unwilling Buyer

Yesterday I worked a long shift until 11 while talking to every customer felt like I was swallowing broken glass. Not fun. Yet, only one customer mentioned my croaky voice. I was still a little out of it and a couple of times nearly ended up in the greeting cycle which goes like this:

Me: Hello, how are you?
Customer: I'm well, how are you?
Me: Fine, how are-

If I'm a little foggy and not all there, the greeting has the potential of becoming a never ending cycle of pleasantries.

Today, in Customers That Annoy Me we have three types that were displayed yesterday: The Price Debaters, The No Personalities, and the Unwilling Buyer.

A couple came up to my register with a cart that was brimming with toys: scooters, bikes, electronic learning pads, Barbies, you name it. I patiently rang everything up, bagged the bulky and oddly shaped packages, asked them nicely if they wanted replacement plans for everything the register prompted me to and gave them their total: $420. The man's eyes bulged and he looked at me incredulously as if I had pulled those digits out of the air. He voiced his disbelief (despite his wife urging him the large total was correct) and had the audacity to accuse that I rang up things multiple times. The moron still insisted upon this after I gave him a copy of everything I had scanned, complete with prices and product descriptions. There were like 30 items and the first three added up to $75 alone. Clearly, this man had failed basic math. I can't just magically multiply and I don't make up prices. All I do is beep-beep-beep and scan stuff. After more time he eventually pulled out a HUGE wad of cash and paid me by throwing the money on the belt (which I HATE, so rude) and left. And by 'left' I mean, pulled to the side and attempted to add up his receipt before giving up and leaving the store. What an annoying asshole.

But that's a Price Debater... sometimes things are wrong so I have no problem correcting a mistake if they are polite and reasonable. Don't fucking accuse me of doing anything. I stand in the front and check people out. What's beyond the register area, I have no control over. Price Debaters are also known to watch the price screen for every single item I ring up as if I'm suddenly going to decide that I want to raise the price on their bucket of Crisco. Do you know how long it would take me to change the prices on things?! That's right: FOREVER. And I don't want you standing there with your moles hanging off your face as you watch every item I scan, I usually just want you GONE.

Everyday I come into contact with many people with absolutely zero personality. They aren't only the types of people who just look at me blankly and emotionlessly when I ask them the difficult, "How are you?" question but even on the off-chance there is an opportunity for a joke they don't even register that it happened. Am I just taking for granted that my joke is funny or is something else at work? I truly don't think that it's my jokes that stink because a lot of the time when I look at these people it's like looking at a shell. Their eyes are empty and their faces are completely expressionless. It seems others may have noticed their lack of a personality and wish to avoid them because they're usually shopping alone. It's almost as if there's an alien inside them working the controls and it hasn't grasped "social interaction" yet.

The Unwilling Buyer comes in many forms but it is most often women. I don't know why that is... maybe men make the "Should I buy this?" decision more easily than women (who like to hoard it in their cart until they can pawn it off on me). But it's usually when I'm beginning to greet the customer that they feel the need to shove the questionable article at my nose and say, "I don't want this" instead of registering that I actually addressed them. It annoys me because here you are, you've walked through the ENTIRE store and could place it item anywhere where someone who gets paid to put things back could have found it but instead you brought it to me so I can try and stuff it under the register with all the other shit people don't want. Thanks...

But last night had a special idiotic circumstance because my customer decided he no longer wanted the personally sliced deli meat.

Customer: "I don't want this anymore, they were supposed to give me only a half pound."
Me: "Why didn't you tell the person back there who cut this?"

He just stares at me blankly as if the thought had not occurred to him.

Customer: "Well, can you just put it back?"
Me: "Uhh.... no. We can't sell this now, you know... something about sanitation."

DUH! Really, put it back? For all we know you took it down some lonely aisle and violated the lunchmeat, used it as a Kleenex or something. I don't know but why wouldn't you mention it to the person back there who actually gave it to you?! DUMB ASS. I think he just didn't want to spend the money on the lunchmeat because it was like $5 so... that not only makes him a dumb ass but a liar too.

And one more thing... the trip from the time clock to the front of the store with the registers is riddled with inquisitive customers just lying in wait for me. It's almost like navigating a minefield because... I'm just a cashier, I don't know where shit is, what shit costs and when we're getting in the shit. I'm sorry but I don't know and you need to find someone that has "Sales Associate" on their tag. You also need to open your freaking eyes and read all the signs we have in the store alerting you where the hell things are. People have absolutely NO desire to find things on their own. It's a pretty easy process that must stress their brains a lot. Here's what seems to occur and where the problem lies:

Customer's brain: What am I looking for? Shave gel. Where am I? Cosmetics... ahhhhhh. Abort mission! Must get help. Must get help.

That actually happened yesterday. Why wouldn't you go to the shaving aisle and look there? At least BE in the right section?

Usually I can tell when someone's about to ask me something. They look ahead to where I'm walking and register the name tag, navy shirt and khaki pants and their eyes and face light up. It is at this moment that my eyes dart to anything that I can look at that isn't near them. I still get stopped and asked a stupid question. Yesterday, I tried a new tactic... dart away from the walking course and hope to give them the slip. Didn't work, he tracked me down. I guess I'll have to perfect this move but it also throws me into the path of other customers with probably more questions...

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The Kids Aren't Alright

Because I probably have a budding sinus infection and over the course of the weekend have used my weight in tissues, I called off work yesterday. I feel guilty about it because if I were working at my past jobs I would have just pushed through the illness and gotten the job done. I guess I'm also feeling guilty because I bought plane tickets for my husband and me yesterday and I'm doubtful I will give the people at Walmart a heads up about it. Being "seasonal" and supposedly "part-time" (which, they've given me FULL time hours to get the most work out of me during the crazy-busy holiday season) they probably wouldn't let me take any time off. I have figured that maybe I'll develop a scenario involving a spontaneous family illness (complete with brimming waterworks to show how much getting this job has meant to me and I don't want a family illness to jeopardize that). I'm only going to be gone for ten days and I'm leaving on New Year's Eve. It's not like I'm leaving the week of Christmas and it looks totally suspicious. I just can't help but feel guilty but I hate being at Walmart so damn much.

Today, I'm going to begin an ongoing segment called: Customers That Annoy Me. Every once and I while I will detail a few of the many types of customers that I come into contact on a daily basis and the things that they do that are so unbelievably asinine. (Maybe I'm doing the world a service and by reading this, you'll know how to avoid becoming one of the Customers That Annoy Me... and other cashiers.) I'll start on broad topic: Kids.

Seeing a lot of the children that I've seen in the customer service setting, I have often contemplated getting sterilized because I don't want to be burdened with such crazy-demons from Hell. Just in the few short weeks that I have been at Walmart, I have seen a child throw a fit and crack his head on the concrete, throw a fit a la Linda Blair-style, various children screaming their heads off at the portrait studio, and a quartet of children who (for over an hour) screamed in unison throughout every section of Walmart (spanning from the Lawn & Garden center to the grocery section to the registers).

And if that irritation was not enough, nearly every child that comes up to the register with their parents that is sitting in the cart seat has to put their boogery-grubby fingers all over the debit/credit machine. Buttons, it seems, are too mysterious for your little annoying spawn to pass up. Despite the beep-beep-boop of the various buttons being pressed, parents are too much in La La Land to realize that their kid is on their way to either hacking into the debit machine or breaking it.

Then there are the kids (that are never ever above the bagging carousel height) that either hang on the carousel like the familiar piece of playground equipment, spin it around as I'm attempting to bag their mother's tampons, or stand so damn close to the thing that I run the risk of clocking him/her in the face. I would cut the parents some slack if they had never been to a Walmart but nowadays everyone knows how the bagging carousel works and yet they let their children play in the line of fire. I swear, I continually wonder where these people's minds go once their cart is unloaded. Their eyes glaze over and they stare off into the distance wistfully like they are seeing a mirage. They don't pay attention to their brats and they don't pay attention to the mounting number of bags that is now preventing me from bagging anything else.

After everything has been rung up and I spit out the total, the parents now (for some unknown reason) want to involve their barely-cognitively aware child in the transaction. Despite my growing line, they attempt to walk their child through their credit card purchase even though most adults can't even seem to do this (more on that later). They hold the child by the arm pits and very patiently say, "Ok, now hit that button. And that one. No, the red one. No, this one.." Meanwhile, MY LINE IS GROWING! I'm impatient and the rest of my customers are growing impatient because you want to include your child in making a stupid purchase. This kid hasn't even grasped potty training yet and you want him to grasp the concept of how to work the debit machine. The machine is for people who have money, not some stinky kid who has just spent the last half hour in the cart picking his wedgie.

And finally, your child is such a difficult child that when he/she grabbed a toy giraffe off the shelf in the Toy Department, you let him/her carry the thing around for the entire trip so they shut the hell up (rather than say "No") so now you have to pry the toy from the child's saliva covered fingers (which, I'm sure the next customer buying that appreciates that). This scenario plays out one of two ways: your child screams bloody murder as you quickly pay and leave or you distract the kid and let me "pretend" to ring it up and put it in a bag while I stow the toy in my cavernous area beneath my register. Either way, it's fucking annoying. Grow some balls and actually say the word "No" to your kids. Your cashier will thank you for it.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

A New Level of Stupid

On Friday I met a customer who displayed a new level of stupid. Now this middle-aged man appeared to be mentally sound and competent but after my "Hello, how are you?" as he plopped down his whole chicken that was wrapped in plastic, he did something which completely changed my initial assessment. He pointed at the word 'HEN' printed on the plastic and asked, "What is that?"

This man did not know what a hen was.

How sad that the elementary school system has failed this man so badly. How could one go through everyday life and not know there was a difference between a rooster and a hen and that a 'chicken' was not some sexless creature? HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW THIS????? It makes me wonder what else this man doesn't know. It's frightening that there are people out there with a such a minimal understanding for the world. I just hope that this man has grasped other simple concepts in the world such as red means stop and green means go. But... who knows?

Luckily The Hen Man came before Robust-Baldy-Junkfood Man who came up to the register with a, "Smile! It gets worse!" I probably would have been a little less patient with his idiocy. If there's one thing I hate it's moronic, fat white men (it's always those types...) who probably can't wait to get home on their recliner with their six-pack and reese's cups who feel the need to tell me to smile. It's none of your fucking business what I do with my face. I'm polite to you, what else do you want?! I'm sorry but I'm not going to stand behind my register and grin like a lunatic. You want to see me smile? Trip on the way out the door, then I will surely smile.

Introducing the Unfortunate Cashier

Both my Psychology background and a recently viewed episode of Penn & Teller's Bullshit "Anger Management" tells me that allowing myself to vent my anger will just increase angry feelings and outbursts. But, being who I am as a more of a societal observer than participant, I cannot help but add my analysis to the selection of society I come into contact with most: customers. Being a cashier has pretty much made me despise humanity. It has also made me a more courteous customer and person. I have seen people steal, attempt to rip off, get angry over stupid things, lie, and be unnecessarily rude.

Now, there are those who (and I'm assuming they're 1- a people person (those kind of people I can't even understand) 2- never worked in customer service or 3- have no idea what it's like out in the economy in which one doesn't have the pleasure of finding another job since my current one displeases me so much). They're also probably one of the people I hate when they show up on the other side of my register.

I've only been at my current job in customer service for three weeks now but it's pretty much a carbon copy of my last job with the exception that there's more people and a bigger store. Unfortunately the symbol of the store is a smily face but smiling is the last thing I want to do while there despite the repeated attempts by some asshole customers to encourage me to smile.

But let me just clear the air. I am not a scowling cashier or one that makes rude remarks. I am genuinely even tempered and greet 98% of my customers with a "Hello, how are you?" (Unless they're on the phone, those people I only acknowledge the same amount as they acknowledge me).

This blog will serve as a catalog for the idiocy that I come into contact with on a daily basis.