Hmm, it was recently suggested I go to Key West with someone…sigh, I’m sure he wasn’t really serious but, I’m not sure…
After buying my groceries, I rolled my cart out and the white Jeep in the closest space was sporting that Key West tag. Just a reminder that I need a vacation.
Anyhoo, I stayed an hour later at work cause there was a call out and, remarkably, I have almost no abdominal pain. I think my gravity/not enough time off theory is correct. I’ll stay vigilant, though. Last night it hurt so bad I was getting kind of scared.
I’m sitting in my car and having a small mug of joe. Yep, still no take out coffee cups in the breakroom. I’m using a mug that can be anchored in the cup holder, though. I might be able to drive with this one.
It’s 6:17 pm. I’m home. It’s so hot outside. It’s good to be sitting in air conditioning. When I was a kid it never got this hot this early in Florida. It’s obnoxious. When I was a kid I welcomed the heat in the Summer because my friends and I spent almost every day on Indian Rocks Beach or at a neighbor’s backyard pool. Of course, now I’m dealing with the occasional possible skin cancer lesion. Yay!
Speaking of skin cancer I have an examination appointment coming up with Dr. Jeff’s (Moskowitz-my dermatologist) ARNP, Brooke. She’s been the one checking me for scary spots on my skin since I had two lesions removed by Dr. Jeff in early 2019. Right now, I have two spots I need checked out. Anyone can get skin cancer but, having a glow in the dark complexion increases the chances. Double yay!
Work is still kind of a rollercoaster. One day I feel more comfortable; the next day I feel like I’m under a microscope. I know that regardless of what I decide to do employer-wise, I should sign up for the 401(k) plan.
The last two shifts have been amusing and annoying.
Yesterday, I experienced two customer interactions that are going into the humor book Chelle and I SHOULD write about our customer service experiences. Gawd, some of these stories are pure gold. We could get out of debt, I’m sure.
My first humorous interaction involved a woman, who appeared to be the mother or mother-in-law of a young lady who was holding a two-year old on her hip.
I rang up their stuff. It was a small order but, since after awhile a head of cabbage looks exactly like an apple pie from the bakery, I don’t recall what I rang. The humor and disgust came at the paying portion of the transaction.
Grandma inserted her red debit/credit card into the card reader, which immediately began beeping, indicating it was not pleased with this particular card. After twice being cussed at by the card reader I said, “Take your card out and rub the chip on your shirt. Often there is debris or static electricity on the chip.” She did as I instructed. The machine still screamed at her. “Ok, try sliding it now.” After three tries most chip readers will accept a slide. She slid; the machine screamed.
I reached out my hand and said, “ Here let me see the card, maybe I can figure out what’s going on.” Grandma handed the card over. The cause was immediately displayed.
I know many of you know my passionate feelings about goo.
Grimacing under my mask I said, “Um, there’s some substance on this card-all over.” The chip area, the magnetic strip, back and front was covered in hardened…something.
The mom/daughter wearing the child piped up for the first time. “ Oh, that’s ketchup!”
Ketchup??? WTF?? Why the HELL is there multiple day old ketchup stuck on this debit card? Why is it a substance I loathe? Oh, lucky me!
I slapped that ketchup encrusted card onto my scale and grabbed my spray bottle of sanitizer and sprayed a large puddle of sanitizer onto that card and let it soak for a couple of seconds and then wiped the snot…er, ketchup out of it. Then I squirted a mound of lavender scented hand sanitizer on my left palm and lathered my hands up and handed the debit card back to Grandma. She inserted the card and like magic the chip was read, the transaction connection made and the gerbils that run on the treadmill spit out her receipt.
That was disgusting. What kind of person spills a condiment on his or her debit card and leaves it there, probably tucking it back into his or her wallet and, carries it around like that for at least a day? Ugh. I don’t get paid enough.
My second encounter with customer induced joy came right around the time I was headed to lunch. I was in the middle of ringing a large order when to my left rear, an older man, about mid-seventies, interrupted my ringing and tried to shove two small boxes of something that appeared to be HBA (health and beauty aids) items. I explained that I could help him in a moment.
He said he needed to return them and his demeanor suggested a touch of dementia. So, l knew I’d have to be patient with him.
“Sir, I can help you but, after I am done with this customer. So, step in line behind her. He walked around to the customer side of my register lane.
I finished with the large order , thanked my customer and positioned myself to deal with this guy’s return.
He plunked his boxes onto the belt and I flipped them over. Pain cream. Store brand. Equate brand. Walmart’s store brand. I said as gently as I could, “Sir, these are not our products. They are from Walmart.” “No, I know I bought them here.” Oh Lordy, poor guy. I was sure I had a dementia case in front of me.
“No, sir, see it says here, ‘Distributed by Walmart Stores, Bentonville, Arkansas.’ We don’t sell this cream. It was bought at Walmart.” He kept insisting he got them at Sprouts.
I spent a good 3-4 minutes trying to explain that he would have to return to Walmart to get his money back. Then, miraculously, he seemed to understand and moved off toward the door.
I put my, ‘closed,’ sign up and went to lunch.
Today’s fun and games occurred in the form of ringing up about 15 pounds of what were supposed to be Gala apples for a Russian couple who were getting supplies for their restaurant.
The trouble was caused by a rogue New York Cosmic Crisp apple. It was more expensive so, that whole bag was about $5 more than the other bags.
That’s my tease about this tale. I may just save it for our book.
Or, maybe I’ll blog about it later.
Time for my shower.
I get a reprieve from the 8:30 am shift tomorrow. I work 11:30-7. I’ve been working 8:30 to 3, 3:30 or 4 for the last month. it’s going to be kind of nice to sleep a bit later.