Coronavirus Words

I’m laying here in bed – alone. Nobody wants to come near me.

I’ve been on the front lines, working eight hours a day or more all week, ringing in hoards of toilet paper, hand sanitizers and everything else people can get their dirty little hands on.

I’m exhausted.

The CDC said that everyone should avoid anywhere that has over 250 people or more. Well, one thousand or more people go through my line every day.

My place of employment informed us they don’t want us handling customer’s shopping bags, but they are is still making me handle money and Airmiles so really, what’s the point? The Corona Virus is going to travel on the money.

I’ve been wearing gloves and I’ve used sanitizer. I’m not touching my face. I have tried to be diligent. Does anyone care that I am exposed? No, as long as the grocery store doesn’t close, and there is still somebody available to ring in their chips and other processed shit so that they can bunker down, germ free.

I don’t even want to go to work, but dammit, I need the money.

Only one person out of thousands asked me if I have enough food. ONE.

Isn’t that grand?

I find humanity cold and disgusting.

~GW

Literally.

Living The Dream

Hello fellow blogzonians. Did you miss me?

Well, I haven’t been around much, that’s because I got locked out of my blog. Yeah, for two whole months.

Big frickin’ whoopie doodles, right? Well, a lot has happened since Christmas. You missed out on so many of my brain warping whisperings.

My life is fantastic right now, but I’m still plagued by assholic, privileged shitheads…what some might refer to as customers, meandering into my workspace, making my day as miserable as they can possibly muster. Alas, at least I don’t live with them. Then I’d really want to shoot myself in the head.

I don’t understand how somebody can stand there, screaming in my face like a tantruming toddler and expect a positive outcome. It makes me want to help them even less.

One day I worked a long shift and at the end of the day I felt like I’d been hit by a baseball bat, a train and a semi carrying a large cargo of razor blades.  I felt incredibly tired.

A lady walked up to the cash with a face so low she could clean the floors with her chin. I asked her if she wanted a bag, and she snapped, “NO!”

Okay, that’s fine. I guess she’s not using any magic words today.

I rang through the rest of her items and then asked her, “would you like a bag?”

Her eyeballs popped out of her sockets and her face turned as red as an inferno. “You already asked me if I wanted a bag!” she screamed loudly.

“Okay sorry I forgot, I’m tired!” Jesus…I thought she was going to grab her French bread and beat me with it.

The world is filled with crabby ass people who have no manners.

~GW

Christmas Reflections

I love Christmas because I love to spend time with my family and friends, the people I care about. Anybody who knows me well realizes that I am not a materialistic person. I guess it’s good in many respects because I don’t expect expensive gifts, fancy presents or money. There is nothing I love more than to cook a delicious meal, share stories and laugh my ass off during the holidays. I’m a postiive and happy person.

Easy right?

Well, I really wish more folks could encompass the same ideals as I do, because truthfully I’ve never experienced so many miserable, mean, nasty, impatient and sour people in my entire life as I have this past week at work. It’s really annoying.

I mean, seriously. If you don’t like Christmas, don’t celebrate it. Honestly, if you’re going to max out your credit card and stress about it, stop taking it out on me. Smiling won’t make your face explode.

Wake up. You don’t need the latest this or that. Thingamabobs won’t make you any happier. Getting into debt will just make your life hard.

The most valuable thing a person can give me is their time. Well, the way a person treats me is equally as valuable…but for me time is a biggie.

Because lets face it, you’re not going to be on the planet that long – time is short- and you can’t take any of that materializtic glitzy shit you obsess over into the afterlife. All you can take with you is love and memories.

Truth be told, most of your shit will end up in the trash, on Ebay or at your local Goodwill, anyway. It’s inevitable. You gain nothing and you own nothing. Everything you have is borrowed for a little while and then scatters into oblivion once you die.

So the moral of this story is to stop being a miserable shit-head and appreciate those around you. Don’t take things for granted and apppreciate what you already have. You have more than you realize. Cherish it.

~GW

Bag Hags

Hello fellow blogzillians. 😀

A lady came in the store one day and I asked her if she needed bags.

“No, I have my own bags,” she responded.

She handed me a bag and I wanted to hurl my last three suppers. It teemed with dirt, old bacterial meat stains and God knows what other type of plague crawling around inside her bag of horrors.

I just kind of dropped her items inside thinking…ew, ew, ew, ew.

Like seriously, have some self respect. Wash your shit. Then folks wonder how they get food poisoning. Perhaps it could be because you’re a disgusting pig. Reusable bags do not mean you can skip laundry day.

I wear gloves, but sometimes I feel like I need to wear an entire hazmat suit.

Then yesterday, a man came into the store and placed a few items on the checkout for me to bag. He brought out a cloth bag and It covered in so much dog hair, it almost looked like cousin IT. You could literally wire brush it and call it Fluffy.

“Um, I am severly allergic to dogs,” I explained. “So unless you want to drive me to the emergency room and put me on a life saving breathing machine, I can’t bag your things.” I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten foot pole.

All that hair probably got all inside his food. It was just really gross. No, just……no. Yuck.

If you’re a dirty bugger, you don’t need to announce it to the world.

~GW

Phone Groan

Hello, everyone. Yeah, I’m still working at the grocery store. Necessity or insanity, I’m not sure which.

A lady walked up to my cash talking on her cell phone. Well, you should all realize by now this behaviour drives me batty. It’s beyond bad mannered.

Anyhoo…

I ask her if she would like a bag and I get completely ignored.

I repeated myself…

“Ma’am, would you like a bag?” (Insert noise of crickets chirping)

So I started shoving everything in bags anyway.

“Ma’am, how would you like to pay? With credit, debit or cash? Ma’am…Hello?”

Then she has the audacity to lift her hand in front of my face and wave it like the Queen, making grunting noises as if to say I’m disturbing her phone call. “Oourgh, oourgh, oourgh!”

Seriously? She’s ruffling my dander. Okay, now I’m starting to get pissed off. I get ornery when I’m pissed off. This means war.

So then I started talking. “How many bags would you like? How would you like to pay? Debit, credit, or cash? Cold weather isn’t it? Boy, be careful you don’t get a sore neck holding your phone like that! Would you like me to put a produce bag on your meat? Those cookies are a really good price, aren’t they? We have a lot of things on sale today. Well, thanks for the attentive conversation. You have a really nice day now!”

She didn’t look impressed but too fucking bad. She shouldn’t be so rude. Grunting is not a conversation. If your addiction to your phone is that bad, get help.

It’s my biggest pet peeve. If you do this, stop it.

Everyone knows I like to sing…

You could while away the hours
Conferrin’ with cell towers
Consultin’, rude, insane

And your head, you’d be scratchin’
While your thoughts were busy hatchin’
If you only had a brain.

Scooby-doobilly-do

Admit it, you just sang this song. Hahaha!

Honestly, get off your fucking phone~

Story of my life…

~GW

Customers

Have you ever had those days when you’re holding a stick, and everyone looks like a piñata?

Advantageous Bitch

A lady took an item off the shelf with an expired tag. When she realized the item would be free due to our scanning policy, she left and walked down the isle to get the other flavours. She wanted those free too. The cashier told her that isn’t the way it works.

I mean, it’s taking advantage of the store. Just because something is legal it doesnt mean it’s right, or that you should be a douche bag.

When a cashier explains that it’s not company policy, (for the customer to screw us up the ass), it doesn’t give anyone the right to call us names like stupid or dumb, and then state we aren’t trained properly. This chick started hoopin’ and hollerin’ like a truck driver on crack. She asked for the manager. He ended up giving her what she wanted just to get her out of the store. Personally, I hope she chokes on it.

The Ungrateful Wench

A customer walked up to the cash to pay for her groceries but only had two dollars on her gift card. She said twenty dollars should be on the card. She yelled, got irate and rude, called the cashiers stupid, and when she did dig up some cash out of her pockets her total remained twenty cents short.

“That’s not a big deal right?” she snapped. “I can come back tomorrow with the twenty cents.”

The cashier responded, “well it wouldn’t have been a big deal had you not been so rude. I actually would have paid for your whole grocery bill, because it’s Thanksgiving.”

The girl sneered, “oh sorry, well my boyfriend got me to talk like this.”

The cashier replied,” well, perhaps you should re-learn how to talk to people.”

The Moaner

A man walked into the store moaning ooo, ahhh,” all the way to the bathroom. He entered the facilities, grunting loudly for everyone to hear, “OOooo, Aaah, Ughhhh”…pushing and moaning. Then he leaves the latrine staring at the floor, and walks out the door. How delightful.

Remember, always be polite to your cashier, or you just might end up in this blog.

~GW

A Few Bits And Bobs That Bug Me

The checkout line is not a storge area. The customer has all of their items on the belt with people lined up behind them and they ask, “is it okay if I run to the furthest corner of the store and get some milk?” No, it’s the express line. When they do that and just take off it backs the line right up like a girgling faulty toilet because all their processed shit is in the way of everyone else.

It’s usually always people who insist on using the express lane with way more than their limit, too. It’s one – eight items. Forty-eight cans of soup does not equal one item. They look at me innocently. “Well, I don’t want to wait in line.” Tough shit, Sherlock, it’s one-eight items for a reason. They don’t even apologize when it happens, either, because they are entitled pieces of ignorant shit.

When a customer wants something against the store’s policy and I refuse it, it’s really annoying when they say, “well the other cashier does it for me all the time!” I just shrug and reply, “well, they shouldn’t be doing that.”

It also bugs the crap out of me when they hand back six items they decided they don’t want. I feel like saying, “WhyTF did you pick them up?” Have a little self control, holy cucumber.

Or, they load up the belt with items and then realize they left their wallet at home. Then we have to put everything back and they just walk away. If it’s night time it’s usually me who has to put it back because we have a skeleton staff. Come on, I always check to make sure I have my wallet and money before I buy anything. Don’t leave it to the last minute.

With a cart full of groceries and no wallet…You just go ahead and put them all back Ms. Whisperer, because that’s your job. To put back the groceries of all the arseholes of the world.

And what happened to please and thank you? How many folks were raised in a barn? Yup and nope are not polite answers.

Ugh!

They start early.

Don’t even get me started about the buggies. It even sends the buggy boy into a tizzy. They have to walk that way to leave the store.

Every God damn day, they do it.

A customer stood at the service counter buying his groceries. I stood at cash three and happened to notice the back of his black tee shirt. It said in big white letters, ROTTEN TO THE CORE. I wanted to run up to him and slap him with a big, red NOT FOR SALE sticker, but I restrained myself. Sometimes I have to be careful because some folks don’t understand my grocery humour. 😀

BLAM! I did it in my mind!

And lastly…

Here you go. Holy Keanu. You may as well take this one too, because, I know that’s what you’re doing. Ha ha!

~GW

Rude Dude

Folks are still walking up to the cash and ignoring me as they sit on their phone yapping. It annoys the shit out of me. They are completely clueless to how incredibly obnoxious that is. It happens so much that I wonder if society even has manners anymore. I often think it would be great if I could have a loaf of french bread on standby and belt them upside the head with it like a whack-a-mole as I say, “get off your fucking phone, you wench.”

They are usually the ones who will leave their buggy at the front of the line too, blocking everyone else in the queue. They just grab their stuff and walk away like the world revolves around them. Lazy buggers, I want to shove the buggy up their ass.

Speaking of rudeness, a few days ago I stood over on the other side of the counter helping a gentleman with his lottery. Customers also lined up at the main cash to be served. I mean, I can’t split myself into two, folks just have to be patient.

Anyhoo, I’m at the lottery machine when this grey haired shit-head starts shouting at me to serve him at the other cash register. He made the customer I was serving feel really uncomfortable. I’m not going to drop helping a customer just because some jerk can’t wait his turn. I’m nobody’s personal punching bag or slave.

I really hate it when people yell at me

I instantaniously internally morphed into bitch mode and took my sweet time scanning the lottery. I went extra slow like a tired snail on oxycontin, and the guy eventually stomped off to another cash register. Boy, his face turned red like a ripe shepherd pepper. I laughed inside with sweet satisfaction. Take that, you piece of shit! My secret revenge.

Cashier: 1 Arsehole: 0

Yeah, I felt bitchy, I fixed his little red wagon. I wasn’t feeling particually well that day to begin with. A cold virus was kicking my ass and I already felt like axe murdering somebody. He’s lucky my co-workers hid the scissors.

The good news is, now I have two days off work. Hell yeah, that doesn’t happen very often.

Time to rest to prepare for the next round of degenerates, er…I mean loyal customers.

Yeah, I’m livin’ the dream…

~GW

Butter Bitch

I stood at customer service helping one of my co-workers bag groceries. We chatted about different types of healthy food when this bitter, old elderly lady told me to shut the fuck up because she has a brain injury and can’t stand noise. I said, “fine.” I mimed the old zipper my mouth routine and threw away the key. I didn’t say another word.

Her son, about fifty years old, stood beside her looking like he wanted to internally combust from embarassment.

She brought six bricks of Lactancia butter to be scanned at the register and handed the cashier a rain-check. We hand those out when we run out of stock. There’s only supposed to be a limit of two, and I wondered who the hell fucked up.

Anyhoo… the rain-check wouldn’t scan. I tried to explain to the old cow…er, I mean customer that she brought us the wrong butter which is why I couldn’t discount it, and oh my God she just about had a bird, and cow and an obese zebra.

She completely freaked out, verbally ripped off my head and then body slammed it onto the counter.

“The foil butter is on sale not the boxed,” I tried to explain. I felt like I stood on top of a high mountain because all I could hear was her shrieking voice echoing over and over again about how stupid I am.

I thought, okay, what happened to the ‘low noise’ brain injury excuse? I guess that medical delusion goes right out the window when she doesn’t get her own way, because she made more of an uproar than an atomic bomb going off. Jesus, what a rude, jurassic shit-head.

She paid for the fucking butter and I sent her on her way.

I turned to my co-worker and said, “Oh my God, can you imagine living with her? Well, I better not talk about her on my blog. You know, I might look insensitive if I talk about a sour old crow with a mangled brain.”

My co-worker lowered her brow and snarled ,”screw that, she’s a bitch!”

Alrighty then

The next day when I arrived at work the assistant manager called me into his office.

That’s never a good sign~

The excitement just never ends at my job. Apparenly I locked an employee in the store and went home.

RO-oh.

I made closing announcements at 9:30, 9:45, 9:50, 9:55, 10:00pm, and yelled at the top of my lungs before I left at 10:10pm, but apparently this doofus, who I might add is as dumb as a bag of hammers, still didn’t hear anything. I don’t know what the hell he was doing.

All the motion sensors went off in the store and he called 911. Seriously, 911? A shit load of police came from everywhere. As my boss is explaining what went down, I’m laughing my ass off. He got angry that I laughed, but I’m sorry……it’s funny as hell.

~GW