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Sparkling Cider
Ok, all. Well first off, I work as a shiftleader in a small, privately-owned grocery store that's a branch off of a certain large company up here in the northeast. We're basically a baby store; five registers, only four are usually open at any given time and one of those is express. What's great about being a shiftleader now is that instead of passing off the dicky customers to someone else, I'm the one they get passed onto now and I have to fix it
This is only really relevant when you get a call at 7:30 one night asking for a case of sparkling cider. Shouldn't have been an issue, but of course it has to become one.
Me: Dur
SC: Special McSpecialpants
Me: Hello, this is <store>. How may I help you?
SC: Yeah. Do you guys carry sparkling cider?
Me: Yes we do. Would you like me to hold some for you?
SC: Yeah, I'm going to need a case of it.
Me: Alright, I can put you through to one of our grocery managers and he'll see about ordering one for you.
SC: Actually, I need to pick it up either tonight or tomorrow.
Wait... You want an entire case of something on the spot? Where the hell are we going to pull it from, our asses? We're a small store. We order what we need to fill the shelves, and cider isn't exactly a hot item unless it's Christmas or New Years. It doesn't happen to be either right now, so I'm not sure where this magical case is going to come from. Especially not so close to closing (we close at 9)
Me: Umm... Well, I'll have to put you through to him either way, so let me page him.
About 20 minutes later, grocery manager B comes up with the guy and a re-closed case of cider I can only assume he took off the shelves after scrounging up a box that hadn't been tossed in the baler yet. He hands the cashier a bottle and has her put in twelve, yadda yadda, standard stuff. Good thing, too because the guy looked like a bitcher. If he hadn't gotten his cider, he would've been bitching non-stop every time he came in.
All-in-all, not too much suck, but annoying nonetheless.
..... Mafia Ties...? lol wut?
Ok... This guy is just fricken batshit. He's our resident conspiracy theorist who comes in to tell us various tidbits of useless information about the government and how it wants us dead and whatnot. This guy's a hoot and he's one of my favorites.
Another side note. The town I work in has a weird trash pick-up system. You can either buy the bags or the tags. The bags are either 15 gallon or 33 gallon and you just put your trash directly in them and out onto the street corner on pick-up days. The tags are 33 and 45 gallons. The 33's go directly onto bags, i.e. regular trashbags you pick up at the store. The 45's go onto 45 gallon cans into which you can stuff as many bags as you possibly can. It's all so confusing and it makes me happy I live in the next town over. That, and the fact that they charge you a fricken arm and a leg for the damned things.
15 gallon bags: $5 for 5
33 Gallon bags: $10 for 5
33 Gallon tags: $14.50 for 5
45 gallon tags: Whopping $27 for 5
Anyway, back to the topic on hand.
So today this guy comes in and asks the cashier I'm bagging for 45 gallon trash tickets. Usually, when we ring up the tags, we hand them right to the customer for them to put in their purse/pocket because they're small and often times get left in grocery bags to be forgotten until trash day rolls around. So it goes like this:
CW: Awesome co-worker lady
CA: Crazy-ass
Me: Self explanatory
CW: *handing the tags to CA* Here you go. Don't want to lose those, they cost too much.
CA: Yeah, and you wanna know WHY they cost so much? Cuz I know.
CW and I glance at each other for a moment
CW: Sure.
CA: Well you know the company that takes care of trash pick-up for the town? They've got ties with the mafia. They've been investigating them since 2004.
Me: Wait, the mafia?
CA: Yeah! They're shaking down the town through the trash pick-up. Why else would it cost so much?
Oh, I dunno... The fuel costs for the behemoths they drive around? Compacting and disposing of all that trash since we can't just toss it on a barge and send it out to sea like the old days? Take your pick because those and many, many, MANY more theories make more sense than yours. Sorry to disappoint.
Sweet Old Lady
Alright, a bit of background on this woman:
I'm not sure how old she is, but she's had cancer multiple times and suffers from various illnesses associated with it. I'm not sure what kind of cancer. I've never asked and she's never volunteered the information, so I don't really see it as my business. Anyway, because of all these issues, she has fairly restrictive needs that she, amazingly, is capable of fulfilling with us instead of a larger store.
Also, because of these restrictions, she often times buys things that she needs to return a couple days later after she's had a chance to run them by her doctor and whatnot. Refunds suck, but she's a sweet woman, so we really don't mind so much. And she's hilarious. She swears up a storm and immediately after, without fail, says, "Pardon my language." I've said worse, but alright, I will.
She also needs a lot of help finding and reaching things. She also gets those little six packs of the mini glass things of Schwepps that she asks us to pop out of the hard plastic holder because she has a hard time with them. Again, no problem.
Now onto the other day's story.
I'm the closer that night and I'm coming back from break as she's leaving.
Me: Same as always
OL: Awesome old lady
OL: *sees me* Oh! Did I give you that card?
Me:
Card?
OL: Yeah! The card. Did I give it to you?
Me: Um... No, I don't believe so. Which card do you mean?
OL: Oh! Just gimme a minute while I get the damned thing out've my purse!
Me: Umm... Ok?
OL: Now, you help me a lot. Well, everyone here helps me a lot, but you always go way outta your way to help me, so I got you a little something. *pulls out little gift card thing and hands it to me* It's not much, only $5, but it's my way of saying thanks.
This woman actually went out and got me a gas card. Yeah, it's only $5, and I tried to refuse if because I really was just doing my job, but she insisted and I really can't refuse her when she's already made up her mind. It just made my day that I made that much of an impression that she thought of me specifically. I'm really going to miss her when she passes which, unfortunately, I can't imagine is far off...
But yeah. That was my last couple days.
Ok, all. Well first off, I work as a shiftleader in a small, privately-owned grocery store that's a branch off of a certain large company up here in the northeast. We're basically a baby store; five registers, only four are usually open at any given time and one of those is express. What's great about being a shiftleader now is that instead of passing off the dicky customers to someone else, I'm the one they get passed onto now and I have to fix it
This is only really relevant when you get a call at 7:30 one night asking for a case of sparkling cider. Shouldn't have been an issue, but of course it has to become one.
Me: Dur
SC: Special McSpecialpants
Me: Hello, this is <store>. How may I help you?
SC: Yeah. Do you guys carry sparkling cider?
Me: Yes we do. Would you like me to hold some for you?
SC: Yeah, I'm going to need a case of it.
Me: Alright, I can put you through to one of our grocery managers and he'll see about ordering one for you.
SC: Actually, I need to pick it up either tonight or tomorrow.
Wait... You want an entire case of something on the spot? Where the hell are we going to pull it from, our asses? We're a small store. We order what we need to fill the shelves, and cider isn't exactly a hot item unless it's Christmas or New Years. It doesn't happen to be either right now, so I'm not sure where this magical case is going to come from. Especially not so close to closing (we close at 9)
Me: Umm... Well, I'll have to put you through to him either way, so let me page him.
About 20 minutes later, grocery manager B comes up with the guy and a re-closed case of cider I can only assume he took off the shelves after scrounging up a box that hadn't been tossed in the baler yet. He hands the cashier a bottle and has her put in twelve, yadda yadda, standard stuff. Good thing, too because the guy looked like a bitcher. If he hadn't gotten his cider, he would've been bitching non-stop every time he came in.
All-in-all, not too much suck, but annoying nonetheless.
..... Mafia Ties...? lol wut?
Ok... This guy is just fricken batshit. He's our resident conspiracy theorist who comes in to tell us various tidbits of useless information about the government and how it wants us dead and whatnot. This guy's a hoot and he's one of my favorites.
Another side note. The town I work in has a weird trash pick-up system. You can either buy the bags or the tags. The bags are either 15 gallon or 33 gallon and you just put your trash directly in them and out onto the street corner on pick-up days. The tags are 33 and 45 gallons. The 33's go directly onto bags, i.e. regular trashbags you pick up at the store. The 45's go onto 45 gallon cans into which you can stuff as many bags as you possibly can. It's all so confusing and it makes me happy I live in the next town over. That, and the fact that they charge you a fricken arm and a leg for the damned things.
15 gallon bags: $5 for 5
33 Gallon bags: $10 for 5
33 Gallon tags: $14.50 for 5
45 gallon tags: Whopping $27 for 5
Anyway, back to the topic on hand.
So today this guy comes in and asks the cashier I'm bagging for 45 gallon trash tickets. Usually, when we ring up the tags, we hand them right to the customer for them to put in their purse/pocket because they're small and often times get left in grocery bags to be forgotten until trash day rolls around. So it goes like this:
CW: Awesome co-worker lady
CA: Crazy-ass
Me: Self explanatory
CW: *handing the tags to CA* Here you go. Don't want to lose those, they cost too much.
CA: Yeah, and you wanna know WHY they cost so much? Cuz I know.
CW and I glance at each other for a moment
CW: Sure.
CA: Well you know the company that takes care of trash pick-up for the town? They've got ties with the mafia. They've been investigating them since 2004.
Me: Wait, the mafia?
CA: Yeah! They're shaking down the town through the trash pick-up. Why else would it cost so much?
Oh, I dunno... The fuel costs for the behemoths they drive around? Compacting and disposing of all that trash since we can't just toss it on a barge and send it out to sea like the old days? Take your pick because those and many, many, MANY more theories make more sense than yours. Sorry to disappoint.
Sweet Old Lady
Alright, a bit of background on this woman:
I'm not sure how old she is, but she's had cancer multiple times and suffers from various illnesses associated with it. I'm not sure what kind of cancer. I've never asked and she's never volunteered the information, so I don't really see it as my business. Anyway, because of all these issues, she has fairly restrictive needs that she, amazingly, is capable of fulfilling with us instead of a larger store.
Also, because of these restrictions, she often times buys things that she needs to return a couple days later after she's had a chance to run them by her doctor and whatnot. Refunds suck, but she's a sweet woman, so we really don't mind so much. And she's hilarious. She swears up a storm and immediately after, without fail, says, "Pardon my language." I've said worse, but alright, I will.
She also needs a lot of help finding and reaching things. She also gets those little six packs of the mini glass things of Schwepps that she asks us to pop out of the hard plastic holder because she has a hard time with them. Again, no problem.
Now onto the other day's story.
I'm the closer that night and I'm coming back from break as she's leaving.
Me: Same as always
OL: Awesome old lady
OL: *sees me* Oh! Did I give you that card?
Me:
Card?OL: Yeah! The card. Did I give it to you?
Me: Um... No, I don't believe so. Which card do you mean?
OL: Oh! Just gimme a minute while I get the damned thing out've my purse!
Me: Umm... Ok?
OL: Now, you help me a lot. Well, everyone here helps me a lot, but you always go way outta your way to help me, so I got you a little something. *pulls out little gift card thing and hands it to me* It's not much, only $5, but it's my way of saying thanks.
This woman actually went out and got me a gas card. Yeah, it's only $5, and I tried to refuse if because I really was just doing my job, but she insisted and I really can't refuse her when she's already made up her mind. It just made my day that I made that much of an impression that she thought of me specifically. I'm really going to miss her when she passes which, unfortunately, I can't imagine is far off...
But yeah. That was my last couple days.
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