"Where are the $5 tickets?"
My customer asks me. I'm standing next to the lottery ticket display, a box divided into eight sections across and five sections down.
"In the 3rd row."
75% of the time, my customer will look up and down.
Now... I'm not saying I am the brightest crayon in the box, but I believe that there are certain things every young adult and up should know. For example, everyone with an average sized I.Q. should be able to name all the continents. (Go on, name them in your head. If you can't, it's a problem and you need to google it. NOW.) People should also know where important countries are located. Such as Japan. And Egypt. And Australia.
One of the most simple things that people should know is the difference between a ROW and a COLUMN. Rows go from left to right (something most people should know as well). Columns go up and down.
If you're one of the uneducated few who do not know this, remember it this way: Movie theatre rows go from left to right. Columns on the White House go up and down.
Just having to say this makes me feel like I'm talking to a kindergardener. So, do yourself a favor: If you don't know something that you believe should be simple to know, google it and educate yourself a little bit more. :p
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Chicken Wings
One of my regular customers came in today. This guy didn't exactly graduate first from etiquette school, but he comes in on a regular basis and spends money with us so we accommadate him. Anyway, I overheard him talking to another cashier about a purchase he had just made. He bought a 6 pack of cans, but his girlfriend, wife, baby momma, whatever... wanted bottles. When he was told he couldn't return them because alchohol purchases are final sale, he threw a fit.
WTF?
I have never understood what the FUCK was the difference between bottle or can. It's the same damn thing!! I don't see why they would taste any different. Just like I don't get why some people are so picky about if their cigerettes are long or short or if they come in a box or soft pack. Cancer is fucking cancer, just buy your cigerettes and choke on it!
It reminded me of some people who will only eat all drumsticks or all flat chicken wings. Chicken is chicken!! It will taste the same!! It is not like the drumsticks have magical powers. You will not die if you are forced to eat a flat for once in your life. Just eat the damn chicken and be happy, at least you have options! It's not like the two options are radically different. If all drumsticks only came in hot flavor and all flats only came in garlic pepper, then ok, it would be alright to bitch about eating a flat chicken wing, especially if you don't like garlic pepper. But the world is not like that, is it?
So just shut up, take what is available, and be happy. You're not going to die. Not getting a can over a bottle anyway.
On another note, this man came in today and he complimented one of my other customers.
"Your braids look really nice."
She smiled warmly and thanked him, and I know it really warmed my heart. Why? Because it was a genuine, warm, compliment. There were no sexual undertones to it, or smartassness to it. Just a sincere compliment that probably helped make her day a little brighter. He gets a Halo Award!
I know that I compliment people often. If they're in a pair or more, I don't, because I don't want to offend the other if I don't compliment them, but I find that a simple compliment can brighten up anyone's day, and who wouldn't want that?
WTF?
I have never understood what the FUCK was the difference between bottle or can. It's the same damn thing!! I don't see why they would taste any different. Just like I don't get why some people are so picky about if their cigerettes are long or short or if they come in a box or soft pack. Cancer is fucking cancer, just buy your cigerettes and choke on it!
It reminded me of some people who will only eat all drumsticks or all flat chicken wings. Chicken is chicken!! It will taste the same!! It is not like the drumsticks have magical powers. You will not die if you are forced to eat a flat for once in your life. Just eat the damn chicken and be happy, at least you have options! It's not like the two options are radically different. If all drumsticks only came in hot flavor and all flats only came in garlic pepper, then ok, it would be alright to bitch about eating a flat chicken wing, especially if you don't like garlic pepper. But the world is not like that, is it?
So just shut up, take what is available, and be happy. You're not going to die. Not getting a can over a bottle anyway.
On another note, this man came in today and he complimented one of my other customers.
"Your braids look really nice."
She smiled warmly and thanked him, and I know it really warmed my heart. Why? Because it was a genuine, warm, compliment. There were no sexual undertones to it, or smartassness to it. Just a sincere compliment that probably helped make her day a little brighter. He gets a Halo Award!
I know that I compliment people often. If they're in a pair or more, I don't, because I don't want to offend the other if I don't compliment them, but I find that a simple compliment can brighten up anyone's day, and who wouldn't want that?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Are You Ready Yet?
There is a sign in my store that says that cell phones cannot be used inside the store.
Now, most people obviously do not follow this rule, and generally, we don't really enforce it. When people ask us about it, we tell them that we have it posted as a sort of deterrent. When people are on their phones, they just blab on and on to whoever's on the line and ignore us, the dutiful cashier waiting on them as well as all the other people in line.
Today, something like that kind of happened, and situations like this also occur now and then.
This lady, who to me, appeared a bit intoxicated, was standing right in front of the counter talking to another man. The man was trying (horribly) to flirt with her for several minutes with another cashier right in front of them. He was waiting for them to finish and get on with what they would like, but they just went on, and on, and on.
Finally, I just made my way over, kind of pushed the other cashier out the way (I do shit like that all the time.. I'm extremely impatient, and maybe a little rude...) and asked the woman if she was ready to check out because she was holding a bag of pork skins. In a snotty voice she stated that no, she was not ready, and why would I ask if she was ready. I stated that I assumed she was because she was standing in front of my counter. She took the hint, grabbed the guy, and they talked off to the side.
I went back to my register, and later when the old bag WAS ready to check out, I heard her commenting to the other cashier about me saying shit like, "Why would she ask if I was ready? Did I look like I was ready?"
I didn't feel like saying anything, but really, since we already had her money, I could have said whatever the hell I wanted too! The bitch really needed to have some sort of translation manual for most of what I was saying.
So.... for future reference...
If I ask you if you're ready, it's a polite way of saying, "Hurry the fuck up so you can get the fuck out."
P.S. I asked if she was ready when she was holding the 99 cent pork skins because it looked like all she could afford any damn ways.
Now, most people obviously do not follow this rule, and generally, we don't really enforce it. When people ask us about it, we tell them that we have it posted as a sort of deterrent. When people are on their phones, they just blab on and on to whoever's on the line and ignore us, the dutiful cashier waiting on them as well as all the other people in line.
Today, something like that kind of happened, and situations like this also occur now and then.
This lady, who to me, appeared a bit intoxicated, was standing right in front of the counter talking to another man. The man was trying (horribly) to flirt with her for several minutes with another cashier right in front of them. He was waiting for them to finish and get on with what they would like, but they just went on, and on, and on.
Finally, I just made my way over, kind of pushed the other cashier out the way (I do shit like that all the time.. I'm extremely impatient, and maybe a little rude...) and asked the woman if she was ready to check out because she was holding a bag of pork skins. In a snotty voice she stated that no, she was not ready, and why would I ask if she was ready. I stated that I assumed she was because she was standing in front of my counter. She took the hint, grabbed the guy, and they talked off to the side.
I went back to my register, and later when the old bag WAS ready to check out, I heard her commenting to the other cashier about me saying shit like, "Why would she ask if I was ready? Did I look like I was ready?"
I didn't feel like saying anything, but really, since we already had her money, I could have said whatever the hell I wanted too! The bitch really needed to have some sort of translation manual for most of what I was saying.
So.... for future reference...
If I ask you if you're ready, it's a polite way of saying, "Hurry the fuck up so you can get the fuck out."
P.S. I asked if she was ready when she was holding the 99 cent pork skins because it looked like all she could afford any damn ways.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Pretty Women
At work, prostitutes are some of my most regular customers.
Now, I'm not talking about those glamourous looking prostitutes, ala Moonlite Bunny Ranch or Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman... I'm talking about in the gutter, prostitutes.
Most of them are old, and I'm not sure if it's a mix of because they are old, stress and the hardships of life, drug and alcohol abuse, or all of the above. They dress a bit floozy like, but most of them dress pretty normal. Some come in all the time, but then stop whenever they take their yearly "county vacation". And most of the time, 95% of the time, will come in already a little bit tipsy!
Today I saw two of them hanging out in front of the store talking to two of my other male customers. They were buying the girls..ahem..I mean women... beers and I didn't stop to look, but more than likely, the women left with the two men.
Other days a prostitute will come in and buy a single condom with their John right next to them who buys them a single beer and I really feel for them. "You're selling your body for a 24 oz. Colt 45?? Seriously??"
It makes me think what in their life could force them to devalue themselves so much, and it's very disheartening and I wish I knew how I could help them out of that situation. But to stop the situation one must not put themselves in that situation to begin with.
Take care of yourself, take care of your life. Even when it seems that no one cares and no one is watching, there is someone, they may just not make themselves known. And if something were to happen to you, because a John got reckless, or because you accidently ingest just a little too much... someone would be sad because you are no longer in this world.
Now, I'm not talking about those glamourous looking prostitutes, ala Moonlite Bunny Ranch or Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman... I'm talking about in the gutter, prostitutes.
Most of them are old, and I'm not sure if it's a mix of because they are old, stress and the hardships of life, drug and alcohol abuse, or all of the above. They dress a bit floozy like, but most of them dress pretty normal. Some come in all the time, but then stop whenever they take their yearly "county vacation". And most of the time, 95% of the time, will come in already a little bit tipsy!
Today I saw two of them hanging out in front of the store talking to two of my other male customers. They were buying the girls..ahem..I mean women... beers and I didn't stop to look, but more than likely, the women left with the two men.
Other days a prostitute will come in and buy a single condom with their John right next to them who buys them a single beer and I really feel for them. "You're selling your body for a 24 oz. Colt 45?? Seriously??"
It makes me think what in their life could force them to devalue themselves so much, and it's very disheartening and I wish I knew how I could help them out of that situation. But to stop the situation one must not put themselves in that situation to begin with.
Take care of yourself, take care of your life. Even when it seems that no one cares and no one is watching, there is someone, they may just not make themselves known. And if something were to happen to you, because a John got reckless, or because you accidently ingest just a little too much... someone would be sad because you are no longer in this world.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Introduction
Helloooo !
First off, I'm going to be going by the name Jo Fyre. Is this my real name? No. I'm going to keep very little about myself off of this website for one reason only: I don't want any of my customers to know who I am. If one of them pisses me off one day, I don't want them to be offended if they ever discover this blog. It could be bad for business! Plus, being in the hood and all, some of them might be crazy. Some of my customers have come in, polluting the whole store with their danja smell. Some have dropped their crack bags on the floor. And most have come in with just a little bit too much alcohol in their system. I'm really not trying to be shot at because someone is pissy I wrote about them on my blog. :p
This blog is basically about what the title suggests: life at the liquor store. I've been working at the liquor store for about two years now and every day I work, something interesting happens. I thought so interesting, that I should blog about it! And so here I am.
And what?
First off, I'm going to be going by the name Jo Fyre. Is this my real name? No. I'm going to keep very little about myself off of this website for one reason only: I don't want any of my customers to know who I am. If one of them pisses me off one day, I don't want them to be offended if they ever discover this blog. It could be bad for business! Plus, being in the hood and all, some of them might be crazy. Some of my customers have come in, polluting the whole store with their danja smell. Some have dropped their crack bags on the floor. And most have come in with just a little bit too much alcohol in their system. I'm really not trying to be shot at because someone is pissy I wrote about them on my blog. :p
This blog is basically about what the title suggests: life at the liquor store. I've been working at the liquor store for about two years now and every day I work, something interesting happens. I thought so interesting, that I should blog about it! And so here I am.
And what?
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