Y'okay, so. Let me quickly explain what happened beforehand here. My doctor's got me on yet /another/ anxiety medication, and this one, unlike all the others, keeps me /awake/ all night. So from the 29th til now, I haven't slept more than /maybe/ an hour a day, usually more like twenty minutes, making it /very/ hard to maintain my veneer of civility. On top of this, from August 1st to 10th, my town has a festival going, so it seems like every daytime drunk in a thousand kilometer radius is coming in for munchies. And of course, I work with slackers, so unless the boss is working (and he gets off four hours before I do), everything's on me. So here's a few short snippets of the most /wonderful/ week of my life.
1) Maybe it's cherry?
I'm quietly washing the bathrooms, while the other guy working with me is watching the register, when a guy who must have been sixty years old stumbles in absolutely /reeking/ of whisky and various other fun things, nonchalantly VOMITS BLOOD ON MY FEET, and leaves. Since then, I've developed a itchy, incredibly painful rash from ankle to knee on both legs, and almost can't stand. BUT NO SICK DAYS FOR ME.
2) Dude.. Chill!
We have a deal going; for every six slushies you buy, you get one free. We give you a little slushie card and everything; we stamp it when you buy one. Now, we also sell "i-scream" (read: ice milk) that you can mix into slushes to make a kind of milkshake; this costs extra, and so you can't get it in a freebie slushie. This one woman, armed with not one, but /three/ free slushie cards, and ignoring every single piece of signage we own forewarning her, is abso-freaking-lutely ASTONISHED when we won't give her the ice cream slushie for free. When we insist, she takes them and proceeds to dump them down the sink rather than pay for them, and when I apologize for the inconvenience, she turns around and THROWS the third, minus lid, at me. Thankfully, I was off in about five minutes and could take a shower, but.. STILL! I had to work five minutes and walk half an hour home covered in slushie and half-frozen milk.
3) Keep on truckin'
While one of my co-workers was "sweeping the front" (slacking) and the other was "stocking the cooler" (napping), a man with a semi comes in. He leaves his semi outside. Thankfully. He, pleasantly enough, asks for me to turn on the gas pump for him, and I, in accordance with the new gas laws for my province, kindly ask him to leave a credit card, bank card, or some such, at the till with me. Instantly, he undergoes a Robert Louis Stevensonian transformation and starts biting my head off, demanding that I let him keep his card and go pump, or he'll have my job, he knows the boss, you guys know the whole rundown. At this point, I've been sleepless for over a week, I'd missed nearly every event of the festival I'd wanted to go to, I was in pain, and I just wanted to go home, so I was on the verge of tears. *Manhood -10,000!* Through an act of sheer willpower, instead of tearing into him for being the arse he is, I turn to the next customer, who's been patiently waiting in line the whole time, and ring his stuff through. Of course, trucker man was having none of it. He was there a full five minutes, demanding that I break laws for him, and he would never relinquish his card, until the co-worker who was "sweeping" actually heard him from across the parking lot, through plate-glass windows, and came in and took his card from him. And proceeded to tear into me with "Don't you recognize the boss's friend? Good G**!" Aand that was all I could take. Leaving the till to him, I ran for the back and hid in the walk-in cooler and cried for nearly twenty minutes. *Manhood -.. You know what, manhood -INFINTY* While stocking the drinks, of course. No rest for the wicked.
4) In /my/ day..
Now, for you who don't know, the Lotto 6/49 jackpot is 43 million dollars. This, of course, means everyone in town with as little as $3 ($2 a play and $1 an Extra!) to spare is getting a ticket. And everyone has their own lucky way. This guy, who was old enough to be my great-grandfather, demanded that I physically take the roll of paper out of the machine, let him kiss it, push the buttons with only my ring finger, and on and on with the inanity. Nobody else is in line, so I figure best to humour him instead of ticking him off, and so I do his game of simon-says. There were a few people behind him in the end, but they were patient enough, probably laughing to themselves; I sure was. FINALLY I was finished, and about to print the ticket when I ask the rote "Do you want an Extra with that?" (An extra line of numbers for a dollar; you can't win the jackpot without it, I think.) and he says "No, no Extra.". I print it, hand it to him, tuck his money in the register, and turn to the next customer, when he roars "WHERE THE BLOODY H*** IS MY EXTRA?! YOU FORGOT MY F***ING EXTRA!"
"..You.. You didn't ask for it.."
"I WANTED IT THOUGH! WHERE THE H*** IS IT?!"
"If you'd like, I.. I can cancel that one and print you up one with an Extra, no extra charge.." (I'll gladly lose a dollar off my cheque to prevent a scene. But to no avail.)
His eyes start to glitter with greed. How far could he push this? "No, I want a /whole/ new ticket. Free. Now. Because you f***ing screwed up, you b****, and I know if I give you this one I'll never get it back."
At this point, I'm perfectly willing to acquiesce, I can't handle this after the last few days, when.. What's this? A knight in shining armour? The woman directly behind him busts in with;
"Leave the poor kid alone! Look at him, he's exhausted! He shouldn't even be /working/ tonight! And you're making him play some insane game of hokey pokey with you, because you're f***ing petty! We /all/ heard you say NO EXTRA!"
She looks to the men behind her, who all nod, except the teenager, who's too busy sucking on his slushie.
"So how about you stop holding up the line with this game of cashier baiting, and get the h*** out of our way, ***hole?"
Turning bright red, without another word, he turns and storms out of the store. Speechlessly trying to thank the woman, my finger "slips" and hits the employee discount button; the least I can do.
"S'okay, kid, was nothing. Us peons have to stick together."
And here I thought I was the only one who said peons.
EDIT: Thanks for all your concern about the rash; I did in fact go to the emergency room after I got off work that day, but the doctor had no idea, so he swabbed it, gave me a general antibiotic/parasitic (dioxy-something I think) and sent me home. He'll call me back.
1) Maybe it's cherry?
I'm quietly washing the bathrooms, while the other guy working with me is watching the register, when a guy who must have been sixty years old stumbles in absolutely /reeking/ of whisky and various other fun things, nonchalantly VOMITS BLOOD ON MY FEET, and leaves. Since then, I've developed a itchy, incredibly painful rash from ankle to knee on both legs, and almost can't stand. BUT NO SICK DAYS FOR ME.
2) Dude.. Chill!
We have a deal going; for every six slushies you buy, you get one free. We give you a little slushie card and everything; we stamp it when you buy one. Now, we also sell "i-scream" (read: ice milk) that you can mix into slushes to make a kind of milkshake; this costs extra, and so you can't get it in a freebie slushie. This one woman, armed with not one, but /three/ free slushie cards, and ignoring every single piece of signage we own forewarning her, is abso-freaking-lutely ASTONISHED when we won't give her the ice cream slushie for free. When we insist, she takes them and proceeds to dump them down the sink rather than pay for them, and when I apologize for the inconvenience, she turns around and THROWS the third, minus lid, at me. Thankfully, I was off in about five minutes and could take a shower, but.. STILL! I had to work five minutes and walk half an hour home covered in slushie and half-frozen milk.
3) Keep on truckin'
While one of my co-workers was "sweeping the front" (slacking) and the other was "stocking the cooler" (napping), a man with a semi comes in. He leaves his semi outside. Thankfully. He, pleasantly enough, asks for me to turn on the gas pump for him, and I, in accordance with the new gas laws for my province, kindly ask him to leave a credit card, bank card, or some such, at the till with me. Instantly, he undergoes a Robert Louis Stevensonian transformation and starts biting my head off, demanding that I let him keep his card and go pump, or he'll have my job, he knows the boss, you guys know the whole rundown. At this point, I've been sleepless for over a week, I'd missed nearly every event of the festival I'd wanted to go to, I was in pain, and I just wanted to go home, so I was on the verge of tears. *Manhood -10,000!* Through an act of sheer willpower, instead of tearing into him for being the arse he is, I turn to the next customer, who's been patiently waiting in line the whole time, and ring his stuff through. Of course, trucker man was having none of it. He was there a full five minutes, demanding that I break laws for him, and he would never relinquish his card, until the co-worker who was "sweeping" actually heard him from across the parking lot, through plate-glass windows, and came in and took his card from him. And proceeded to tear into me with "Don't you recognize the boss's friend? Good G**!" Aand that was all I could take. Leaving the till to him, I ran for the back and hid in the walk-in cooler and cried for nearly twenty minutes. *Manhood -.. You know what, manhood -INFINTY* While stocking the drinks, of course. No rest for the wicked.
4) In /my/ day..
Now, for you who don't know, the Lotto 6/49 jackpot is 43 million dollars. This, of course, means everyone in town with as little as $3 ($2 a play and $1 an Extra!) to spare is getting a ticket. And everyone has their own lucky way. This guy, who was old enough to be my great-grandfather, demanded that I physically take the roll of paper out of the machine, let him kiss it, push the buttons with only my ring finger, and on and on with the inanity. Nobody else is in line, so I figure best to humour him instead of ticking him off, and so I do his game of simon-says. There were a few people behind him in the end, but they were patient enough, probably laughing to themselves; I sure was. FINALLY I was finished, and about to print the ticket when I ask the rote "Do you want an Extra with that?" (An extra line of numbers for a dollar; you can't win the jackpot without it, I think.) and he says "No, no Extra.". I print it, hand it to him, tuck his money in the register, and turn to the next customer, when he roars "WHERE THE BLOODY H*** IS MY EXTRA?! YOU FORGOT MY F***ING EXTRA!"
"..You.. You didn't ask for it.."
"I WANTED IT THOUGH! WHERE THE H*** IS IT?!"
"If you'd like, I.. I can cancel that one and print you up one with an Extra, no extra charge.." (I'll gladly lose a dollar off my cheque to prevent a scene. But to no avail.)
His eyes start to glitter with greed. How far could he push this? "No, I want a /whole/ new ticket. Free. Now. Because you f***ing screwed up, you b****, and I know if I give you this one I'll never get it back."
At this point, I'm perfectly willing to acquiesce, I can't handle this after the last few days, when.. What's this? A knight in shining armour? The woman directly behind him busts in with;
"Leave the poor kid alone! Look at him, he's exhausted! He shouldn't even be /working/ tonight! And you're making him play some insane game of hokey pokey with you, because you're f***ing petty! We /all/ heard you say NO EXTRA!"
She looks to the men behind her, who all nod, except the teenager, who's too busy sucking on his slushie.
"So how about you stop holding up the line with this game of cashier baiting, and get the h*** out of our way, ***hole?"
Turning bright red, without another word, he turns and storms out of the store. Speechlessly trying to thank the woman, my finger "slips" and hits the employee discount button; the least I can do.
"S'okay, kid, was nothing. Us peons have to stick together."
And here I thought I was the only one who said peons.
EDIT: Thanks for all your concern about the rash; I did in fact go to the emergency room after I got off work that day, but the doctor had no idea, so he swabbed it, gave me a general antibiotic/parasitic (dioxy-something I think) and sent me home. He'll call me back.
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