Yesterday I received another religious pamphlet. Why can't these people leave me alone? Take your groceries and get out of here. Could I really have a religious epiphany because I was handed something like this? (The only reason I still have it was so I could upload it on here.) Just more proof of what I have to be subjected to. It's not enough that I have to deal with assholes all day but I also have to save my questionable soul.
It was rainy and miserable yesterday. It's bad enough that I have to ride the bus (because Virginia public transportation is unreliable and shitty) but riding the bus in the rain is so messy, especially when I'm wearing khaki pants!
Not only that but the carts get all wet from being outside and it completely freaks out customers. Granted, I hate a wet cart. But when you have placed all your items in your cart and take them out and put them on the counter, how can you really wonder where all the water has come from? I even had numerous people yesterday ask me to wipe of the counter (even though their items were already wet from the cart!). Some woman was holding her bread in her hand until I wiped it off.
Anal Retentive Lady: "Could you wipe of the counter? I don't know what that is." (pointing to the obvious water swipe on the counter)
Me: "Oh, it's just water from the last customer's produce."
Bitchy Lady in a bitchy voice: "Well, it's going to make my bread soggy."
There's something wrong with this logic. No, it's not going to make your bread soggy because it is a sealed bag and there are no holes. If there were holes, you'd have stale bread. Duh. So, don't look at me like I'm the moron or I'll slap you in the face with your loaf of bread.
"You look so happy to be here," some punky-looking girl with facial piercings and terribly hideous hair said to me as she walked out of the store. What the fuck do people expect me to do, smile like a loony when I'm just standing there doing nothing? No. If I were a customer, it would freak me the fuck out to see someone standing there with smile on their face for no apparent reason. I would probably avoid that register because I wouldn't want their crazy to rub off on me. I stand there with a blank face and if anything I am bored, not unhappy. And another thing, I work at Walmart... do you think I'm fucking happy? I deal with people treating me like shit all day which is not exactly a joyous occasion for me.
I felt like saying to her: "Fuck off. Oh yeah, and go and shave your head because after doing [that] to your hair, the only alternative is to just wipe the slate clean and start over."
Every once and a while your total will resemble a year: $19.45, $19.36, $19.53. And every time it's usually some old fuck who says, "Oh, I remember that year!" or "The year I was born!" They then follow up with, "But you're too young to have lived back then!" No shit. Take your old ass and get out of here. Reminisce outside, I've got a line going here.
There's also usually a few times of day in which some guy will come through my line with his bachelor-looking foods (frozen stuff... Hungry Man dinners) and I think, "Hmm, lonely single guy. Well, look at him, it's no wonder. He's chubby, balding, and he just looks like he'd emit an odor of Fritos. Yuck." As he's handing me the money, I take note of the ring on his left hand. My world goes off-kilter and I am super surprised that this dowdy-looking man has actually convinced someone to marry him. These dudes make Phil Donahue look sexy and they actually got someone to say yes to spending their lives staring at them. Wow. I usually then rationalize that the women they are married too have to be just female versions of themselves (ugly) and that they have come together in their ugliness to find companionship. (Sorry, Phil.)
As expected, the customers aren't the only weird ones at Walmart. Sometimes it's the employees. A woman (who, I unfortunately share a last name with...) was working at the register beside mine. I was trying to be cordial and oblige her in chatting with me during breaks between customers. She said a lot of random shit to me and she sounds a little slow when she talks.
Her: "I wanted to go back to school and be like a doctor. But it's a lot of school."
Me: "What about nursing or something like that?"
Her: "Oh, I couldn't do that. I hate the sight of blood."
How can you be a doctor and hate the sight of blood? What does she want to be, a pediatrist? (But don't you have to do normal doctor stuff before you pick a specialty? I don't know if I'm analyzing this conversation too much... I might be.)
Her: "This is soooo boring."
Me: "Yeah, not too busy tonight."
Her: "They always called me the quiet one in high school. I only got in trouble this one time when I passed a threatening note on the bus. They wanted me to be suspended."
What the fuck are you talking about?