Erratic Nerd Writings

{{A random little original series I came up with I'll be continuing for a few entries, as I have a specific place I want to go with it.  -Me}}

“…I have NO idea why he would DO something like that, it’s really quite…”

“Find everything you were looking for today?”

The woman doesn’t even look in my direction as she throws her merchandise on the counter in front of me.  In fact, it seems like she’s looking everywhere but at me as she talks incessantly into the cell phone glued to her ear.  The meeting with my manager, Anne, of just a few minutes ago, plays again in my head as I begin ringing everything up.

                                                                           ***

“Your loyalty card numbers are slipping again.”

I sigh.  This was why she called me into her office.  “I know, it’s just that not everyone…”

She rolls her eyes as she leans back in her well worn office chair.  “Look, Alex, trust me, I’ve heard it all before.  The thing is, it’s more than just your percentage of transactions, your sign-ups are down, too.  It’s a free program; if you can’t sell free, how can you sell product?” 

I frown, looking down at the print out she gave me when I came in with my employee ring number in the top left corner.  Not my name, of course, just my ringer number.  “Yeah, but…doesn’t this show my sales numbers themselves are higher…?  I think I have more transactions than anyone else, too, so of course my percentage…”

She waves her hand dismissively, her other wrinkled hand reaching out to clutch her pack of cigarettes.  “That’s just the problem; think of how much MORE you could be doing if your loyalty numbers were up, too?  Do you even ask every customer?”

“Well, I mean…I think so…”

She sighs as she stands up, as if it pains her.  Whether it’s the act of standing, or her words, it’s hard to determine.  “Plain and simple; if your numbers aren’t up by the end of the week, I’ll have to write you up for it.  That’d be your second this year, and you KNOW what happens if you have three…”

I clench my jaw as I stand up as well, biting back the several scathing remarks that boil inside my head.  There are clauses about immediate termination grounds, too.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell Steph I’m stepping out for a smoke break when you get back out there.”

                                                                           ***

“…THEN he told me what he REALLY thought about all of that, and I was just…just dumbstruck, I couldn’t speak, at ALL…”

I have a hard time believing the woman in front of me could ever be speechless, though judging from the meaningless gossip she seems to be comfortable publicly spewing, she was most certainly hit by a dumbing effect of some kind at some point in her life.

“Do you have one of our Rewards cards, ma’am?”

She doesn’t react; I doubt she’s even heard me over the sound of her own voice.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of our regulars, who comes in so often everyone knows his phone number by heart, because he never has his card on him, stopping to look at a display.  At least he’ll help my percentage…

“I can help you down there when you’re ready to check out, Mister Brookstone!”

A sinfully curvy, energetic brunette comes out of nowhere, breezing past Mister Brookstone and coming behind the counter I’m at, wafting the rather heady scent of perfume to my nostrils as she stops next to me at the adjacent register.  Stephanie, the senior team lead, is beaming from ear to ear as she waits for him, and proceeds to lean over the countertop, her hands gripping the far side loosely as she shifts weight onto her elbows.  The impossibly tight material of her pants seems to squeeze her shapely backside in wonderful new ways, and I have to tear my eyes away before my gaze becomes too obvious.  I’m certain she caught me looking when I realize her eyes meet mine for a brief moment, but she simply turns to look at Mister Brookstone as he approaches the counter, her high-watt smile never faltering.  She remains in that pose as Mister Brookstone puts his items in her outstretched hands, and from experience, I know she’s treating him to an exquisite view down her well-filled shirt.  All of Stephanie’s shirts have plunging necklines, though they’re all technically just within dress code.

“EXCUSE me, are you DONE yet?”

The troll in front of me has finally deemed it necessary to turn her scrunched up glare at me, though she’s kept her cell phone in place.  I swallow a bit, but put on my most charming smile.

“I am, ma’am, though I was wondering if you have one of our Rewards cards?  It’s free, and today’s purchase would…”

She slams a set of keys onto the counter, that cell phone steady in its placement against her face, and sneers at me.  “I don’t NEED one of your STUPID Rewards cards!  What I NEED is for you to ring up my purchases in a TIMELY manner so I can LEAVE.  I am a VERY busy woman, and have NO TIME to waste prattling on with some high school DROPOUT over a RIDICULOUS piece of PLASTIC!”

My jaw pulses with the blood rushing to my face, my fingers turning white on the countertop as I try to squeeze the life out of it in much the same fashion I picture doing to this woman’s bloated throat.  I see an extremely familiar logo dangling from the woman’s keychain against the counter, and less than a foot away, a pristine stack of its siblings waiting for eager, starry-eyed consumers to sign-up for their very own copies.  I contemplate the odds of grabbing the keys and scanning that all-important barcode on the back before the woman can haul off and hit me.  My college degree informs me the odds are not in my favor.  At all.

“You don’t, perhaps, already have one, or…?”

“Can you BELIEVE this boy’s RUDENESS?”  she yells.  I can hear the emphatic response through her phone; it doesn’t sound contradictory.  “Tell me my total before I DEMAND to speak to a MANAGER!”

I hear a girlish giggle from my right as Stephanie and Mister Brookstone shamelessly flirt with each other.  At least he didn’t come in with his kids today, or, more importantly, his wife.  I certainly wouldn’t want this woman to demand to speak to my manager.  I tell her the total as I casually rest my hand on the customer display with the same numbers on it.  She’s so busy, she can’t be bothered to read, either.

“WHY won’t this piece of SHIT work?!  I KNOW there’s PLENTY of money in there, so don’t EVEN…”

Biting my tongue-hard-I reach out and turn the woman’s credit card right side up, so the magnetic black stripe goes down into the machine like it’s supposed to.  She snorts, rather like an animal, I think, as she shakes the little machine with the force of her card swipe. 

“I SWEAR, this type of behavior is ALL OVER, now!  You just can’t find good, PLEASANT help anywhere.  Why, if WE had tried THAT type of snarkiness back in MY day, WE would have been FIRED, NO exceptions!”

I rip the receipt from the printer before it’s even fully finished spitting out and shove it into the woman’s bag.  She’s back to not looking in my direction anymore, and talking as if she’s in a crowded bar, versus a retail store during the week that’s not very busy.  I think I hear the smooth, velvety tones of some Kenny G track playing on the overhead music.

“You should SEE this HALFWIT, Gloria.  He looks downright SCUZZY; LONG hair, a FILTHY beard, and I SWEAR he’s got a TATTOO under that HIDEOUS tee-shirt…”

The woman finally starts to walk away, continuing to talk about what a horrible human being I am to Gloria.  I notice a glimmer on the counter, and realize a shiny Mercedes symbol is staring back at me.  A man steps up to the counter where the woman was a few moments before, knocking those keys onto the floor.  The sound tears his eyes away from the display of cleavage Stephanie is still letting Mister Brookstone ogle, though he only had one item and is well past being a completed transaction.  I sigh softly.

“Ma’am?” I call out.  “You left your keys back here!”

The man, stooping to pick them up on the other side, holds them out to her as she stops and turns around, frowning.  Her eyes widen.

“GLORIA!  That boy was trying to STEAL my CARKEYS!”

The man looks at me awkwardly as she swipes the keys from his outstretched hand, raising his eyebrows a bit as I see his eyes drift back over towards Stephanie.  I doubt he’s going to be paying much attention to me. 

“And for the LAST time, that is MIZ, NOT ‘ma’am’!”

"Find everything you were looking for today, sir?"