Last Wednesday I walked into Walmart, threw my name tag in the personnel lady's face and screamed, "I QUIT!"
Okay, I didn't dramatically do that as I did countless times in my daydreams. Instead, I made up my mind just a half an hour before my shift began that I didn't want to take it anymore. I didn't want to take the customer abuse, the long and endless lines, the hours of standing in front of a register, the feeling of extreme dread, and the forty-five minute bus ride on two buses just to get to work.
I did my makeup nicely, fixed my hair and put on the same sweater I'd worn the day I got hired (kinda full circle now, huh?) and drove to work as my husband laid in bed totally zonked out of his mind on meds for his back injury. I wish that I'd had his input on my decision to quit, but I guess ultimately I took this shitty job in my own hands and ended it (not unlike a nemesis that only the hero can kill in the end).
I burst through the double doors and into the personnel office and I opened up by asking for my W2 which despite being nearly March, I had not received. I then asked her who I had to notify that I was quitting.
"Are you putting in your two weeks or..."
"I'm quitting today. I'm just kinda done," I said flatly.
"Why, was it the hours?" she arched her eyebrows like she'd heard this before.
"No, it's the customers. I'm sick of the way the treat me."
"Yeah, working with the public is difficult," she nodded and her face relaxed. Clearly, she'd been through her own customer hell before. Another cashier walked in to discuss medical leave with the personnel lady and we exchanged a few words,
"I wish I could quit, I hate this job. I had someone throw groceries at me once," the cashier said to me in front of the personnel lady.
It was then that I felt a little guilty. This other cashier was a mother and I gathered that she had to work this job to support her family. I had the luxury of throwing my hands up and leaving but, she did not. That's not really my fault though because we both have different circumstances but I couldn't help feeling bad for her. And, what asshole throws groceries at a cashier?! I would beat the shit out of that person with their gallon of milk and choke them a plastic bag.
Now that I am now a housewife until I figure out how we'll either A) get another car or B) find another job within a bus route, I'm facing tons of free time. I'm also facing the outcome of this blog. I have tons of customer stories and insights into the annoyance of the service industry. I'm considering molding this 30,000 word blog into a book somehow...