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I've been in blinding, mind numbing pain the last three days. Still in it now, as I write this, actually... but anyway. I've been going to work with a leg that feels like someone is taking a knife and just ripping it across my thigh and stabbing it into my knee every time I take a step on it. Now, obviously three things should've taken place.
1. Go to the doctor
2. Call into work
3. Destroy the part of my brain that allows me to feel pain
But no, I go to work because I'm the only other person who -can- work that hasn't already been working five 9 hour days. So, of course being who I am, I'm rather grumpy. And when someone of my size appears grumpy, it's best to just move along. But working in retail, the consumer really is oblivious to your mood or the amount of pain your in. Allow me to share in what has transpire in these last 72 hours.
Situation 1: I must break you.
We have this machine. I don't know what it does, exactly, but I'm beginning to think its sole purpose is to just take people's money. That's it. Nothing is given in return, it just takes people's money. And being that most people are stupid, they just keep putting it in there expecting something to come out.
So after about six hours and sixteen people complaining, I put a sign that says "out of order" OVER the touch screen of the, what I like to call, Know-how-to-keep-people-broke-put-another-ten-bucks-in-over-and-overer. But, we all know people's predisposition to disregarding signs. One group, of what I can only imagine are stoned collegiate party goers, not even bothering to glance at the sign, toss it behind them on the floor and proceed to... you guessed it, lose their money.
Guy: Hey, man. This thing's broke. It took my money.
Me: *In a near perfect impression of House* Oh? Well let me... wait, what's this? A sign on the ground. Gee, this looks like the sign that was on this machine not three minutes ago when you came over. *Makes a big play of reading the sign* Yeah... these big words always just confuse me. Maybe you can help me, what does that read?
*A moment of silence*
Girl: Out of order...
Me: OUT OF ORDER! Well slap me on the ass and call me pretty, I think I just figured out why that machine ate your precious moneys!
Guy2: Okay, leaving now...
They walk off in a stunned silence, but I was in pain and they were stupid.
Situation 2: I. Hate. Jazzy. Power chairs. HATE!
I've been nearly plowed over by a senile old woman bound and determined to get her precious... Precious those fifteen cans of cat food. Because, you know... if you don't haul ass down that aisle and spend twenty minutes trying to decide if Precious likes Salmon or Smoked Salmon in Gravy she'll just hate you forever. I wonder how many times you've run over her tail and NEVER HEARD THE CAT SCREECH IN PAIN BECAUSE YOU'RE STONE DEAF!
Subarticle B: Hate isn't a strong enough word....
Today, when the pain in my leg was at it's highest (Drugs wore off) I DID get run over by a woman in a jazzy. (Ever notice it's always overweight people on those things and not just crippled old people? Hm...) She turned onto the aisle I was on, and I happened to have my back turned and I knew something was amiss because the pressure on my leg was gone, replaced by sharp throbbing pain on my backside. Did she apologize? No. Did she stop? No.
Hit and run via power chair. What the hell....
A young woman had to move fast to avoid this cripple on a mission and when the nice lady said "Excuse me" all the motorist could reply with was "Yeah."
Revenge will yet be mine. But on the upside, the nice young lady helped me up, asked me if I was alright and vowed her vengeance as well.
Situation 3: I'M IN PAIN!
Lifting heavy things is kind of a hobby of mine, as I'm sure some or most of you are aware. Punk-ass movie goers, Pallets two at a time, Jazzy Power Chairs... But when you're barely able to even stand, let alone walk, lifting is very nearly out of the question. Case in point, we look to exhibit A.
This man was a Ranch worker of some sort. I could tell by the state of his attire and the smell coming off him. When he asked me to lift something into his cart for him, I was more than a little shocked. I quickly declined and made mention that the item in question was more than manageable by a man of his size.
Him: Yeah, but you work here. Isn't it part of your job to help the customer?
Me: Usually. But, unless you missed my limping, I'm barely able to keep my feet and this thing is on the bottom shelf.
Him: So?
Me: So if I kneel down... You know what... let me go call someone for you. *leaves and clocks out for lunch, offhandedly mentioning a customer to someone not from that dept.*
Situation... 4: Return of the money thief!
Yes, someone decided they wanted to try their luck with the machine again. But before they did, they decided to read the sign, then ask what was wrong.
Me: It's been eating people's money.
Woman: Oh. Well, I'll give it a try.
Me: I'm not going to stop you, but there's nothing we can do about it if it eats your money.
*She puts her money in and, of course, it eats it*
Woman: So, where can I go to get my money back?
Me: I don't know. It's not our machine and I've never seen anyone come service it.
Woman: So how am I supposed to get my money?
Me: No longer my problem. I wasn't obligated to even warn you about it. You were aware of the problem when you put your money in, so don't even bother trying to make this my fault and don't go complaining to a manager or customer service. They'll ask me about it, I'll tell them that you ignored both the sign and my warning and they'll tell you that you're out of luck.
Woman: You're the most rude, incordial, snotty....
Me: I'm going to stop you right there. My leg hurts too much to stand here listening to you tell me what a horrible person I am. Would you mind if I went and found a chair so I could sit while you whine about how mean the big mean man is? *walked away without waiting for an answer*
Of course, right before the end of my shift I get called into the bosses office and asked about my behavior. I calmly apologize and explain that the pain in my leg has affected my mood and that I would've called in if there was someone to cover my shift, but being that I had no money or insurance I couldn't go visit a hospital to be told that I pulled a muscle or that I've ripped a muscle and need surgery and promised that the pain would abate before my return to work in two days and my attitude would be back to normal.
Needless to say, since I'm hardest working new hire(Read: I've always been in a good mood since I started working there.) they've had in a while, I got off the hook on account of the pain impairing my judgment.
1. Go to the doctor
2. Call into work
3. Destroy the part of my brain that allows me to feel pain
But no, I go to work because I'm the only other person who -can- work that hasn't already been working five 9 hour days. So, of course being who I am, I'm rather grumpy. And when someone of my size appears grumpy, it's best to just move along. But working in retail, the consumer really is oblivious to your mood or the amount of pain your in. Allow me to share in what has transpire in these last 72 hours.
Situation 1: I must break you.
We have this machine. I don't know what it does, exactly, but I'm beginning to think its sole purpose is to just take people's money. That's it. Nothing is given in return, it just takes people's money. And being that most people are stupid, they just keep putting it in there expecting something to come out.
So after about six hours and sixteen people complaining, I put a sign that says "out of order" OVER the touch screen of the, what I like to call, Know-how-to-keep-people-broke-put-another-ten-bucks-in-over-and-overer. But, we all know people's predisposition to disregarding signs. One group, of what I can only imagine are stoned collegiate party goers, not even bothering to glance at the sign, toss it behind them on the floor and proceed to... you guessed it, lose their money.
Guy: Hey, man. This thing's broke. It took my money.
Me: *In a near perfect impression of House* Oh? Well let me... wait, what's this? A sign on the ground. Gee, this looks like the sign that was on this machine not three minutes ago when you came over. *Makes a big play of reading the sign* Yeah... these big words always just confuse me. Maybe you can help me, what does that read?
*A moment of silence*
Girl: Out of order...
Me: OUT OF ORDER! Well slap me on the ass and call me pretty, I think I just figured out why that machine ate your precious moneys!
Guy2: Okay, leaving now...
They walk off in a stunned silence, but I was in pain and they were stupid.
Situation 2: I. Hate. Jazzy. Power chairs. HATE!
I've been nearly plowed over by a senile old woman bound and determined to get her precious... Precious those fifteen cans of cat food. Because, you know... if you don't haul ass down that aisle and spend twenty minutes trying to decide if Precious likes Salmon or Smoked Salmon in Gravy she'll just hate you forever. I wonder how many times you've run over her tail and NEVER HEARD THE CAT SCREECH IN PAIN BECAUSE YOU'RE STONE DEAF!
Subarticle B: Hate isn't a strong enough word....
Today, when the pain in my leg was at it's highest (Drugs wore off) I DID get run over by a woman in a jazzy. (Ever notice it's always overweight people on those things and not just crippled old people? Hm...) She turned onto the aisle I was on, and I happened to have my back turned and I knew something was amiss because the pressure on my leg was gone, replaced by sharp throbbing pain on my backside. Did she apologize? No. Did she stop? No.
Hit and run via power chair. What the hell....
A young woman had to move fast to avoid this cripple on a mission and when the nice lady said "Excuse me" all the motorist could reply with was "Yeah."
Revenge will yet be mine. But on the upside, the nice young lady helped me up, asked me if I was alright and vowed her vengeance as well.
Situation 3: I'M IN PAIN!
Lifting heavy things is kind of a hobby of mine, as I'm sure some or most of you are aware. Punk-ass movie goers, Pallets two at a time, Jazzy Power Chairs... But when you're barely able to even stand, let alone walk, lifting is very nearly out of the question. Case in point, we look to exhibit A.
This man was a Ranch worker of some sort. I could tell by the state of his attire and the smell coming off him. When he asked me to lift something into his cart for him, I was more than a little shocked. I quickly declined and made mention that the item in question was more than manageable by a man of his size.
Him: Yeah, but you work here. Isn't it part of your job to help the customer?
Me: Usually. But, unless you missed my limping, I'm barely able to keep my feet and this thing is on the bottom shelf.
Him: So?
Me: So if I kneel down... You know what... let me go call someone for you. *leaves and clocks out for lunch, offhandedly mentioning a customer to someone not from that dept.*
Situation... 4: Return of the money thief!
Yes, someone decided they wanted to try their luck with the machine again. But before they did, they decided to read the sign, then ask what was wrong.
Me: It's been eating people's money.
Woman: Oh. Well, I'll give it a try.
Me: I'm not going to stop you, but there's nothing we can do about it if it eats your money.
*She puts her money in and, of course, it eats it*
Woman: So, where can I go to get my money back?
Me: I don't know. It's not our machine and I've never seen anyone come service it.
Woman: So how am I supposed to get my money?
Me: No longer my problem. I wasn't obligated to even warn you about it. You were aware of the problem when you put your money in, so don't even bother trying to make this my fault and don't go complaining to a manager or customer service. They'll ask me about it, I'll tell them that you ignored both the sign and my warning and they'll tell you that you're out of luck.
Woman: You're the most rude, incordial, snotty....
Me: I'm going to stop you right there. My leg hurts too much to stand here listening to you tell me what a horrible person I am. Would you mind if I went and found a chair so I could sit while you whine about how mean the big mean man is? *walked away without waiting for an answer*
Of course, right before the end of my shift I get called into the bosses office and asked about my behavior. I calmly apologize and explain that the pain in my leg has affected my mood and that I would've called in if there was someone to cover my shift, but being that I had no money or insurance I couldn't go visit a hospital to be told that I pulled a muscle or that I've ripped a muscle and need surgery and promised that the pain would abate before my return to work in two days and my attitude would be back to normal.
Needless to say, since I'm hardest working new hire(Read: I've always been in a good mood since I started working there.) they've had in a while, I got off the hook on account of the pain impairing my judgment.
My sympathies on dealing with SC's while in pain, been there and done that way too often. Hope you're feeling better soon.
On a bad day, well, I just knock myself out with magic happy pills (vicodin, percocet, etc.) 
Constant pain takes a serious toll. I've had more than half my life to adjust to my knee, but when the pain first started...well, I know just how you feel.
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