Yesterday proved to me once more why I dislike working on Saturdays.
Saturday brings out all the rude ones.
Saturday brings out all the entitled ones.
Saturday brings out all the ones who need to be told to step back.
My early morning customers were in general the same ones that I had four weeks ago.
How do I know this you ask?
Because two weeks ago I worked the horrid 8:30-5 on Saturday.
Which totally ruined my weekend.
Except that I worked Sunday too and did get a three day weekend out of it.
It is more a marker.
Some wanted to talk.
Some did not.
I am a fairly decent read of people I think so I know when I can chatter and when I just need to do my job.
My first indication that people were not going to be game players was when I had to tell three customers to back up.
Not from me but from the person in front of them.
6 feet people.
We even have markers on the floor to stand on.
It is not rocket science.
Next up was the woman who was shopping with her two daughters.
As she is bagging away she demanded to know if we ever bagged for people.
And I indicated yes we did.
Me: For seniors we help out.
Customer (snarling): But not for moms shopping with kids?
Me: (thinking of my moms that come through with three kids and a newborn and no help:
No ma’am we don’t.
Customer: So you only bag in your own bags.
Me: Yes if you purchase bags I can bag for you.
Customer: I am going back to shop at Superstore. It is cheaper there. And I am not hurrying.
Me: Ma’am no one is in a hurry it is Saturday. And no one is forcing you to.
Me (as she walks away): Have a fabulous weekend ma’am.
Customer (bitterly): I’ll try.
Really?
You’ll try?
Make it a good day.
You have the power.
Next up the gentleman comes through my till and asks for paper bags.
Paper bags can only hold a certain amount and I know how to pack them.
I had packed two and set them on the counter and began bagging the third bag.
As I scanned items and put them in bag he reached across the counter into the bag and removed the item and put in the bags I had already packed.
Me (after the third time): Would you like to pack your own groceries.
Customer: No I am making them heavy as I like them.
Me: Well you can bag them yourself and our bags do not hold that well.
Customer (reaching across and taking items out): I know how much I can put in there.
Me (exasperated as he reaches in again): If you do not like the way that I am bagging you can bag yourself.
Customer: I can shop somewhere else.
Me making eye contact and not saying anything.
Customer: I do not appreciate this. Next time I will be going to a different cashier.
Me (in my head heavy on the sarcasm): Oh no please don’t go to another cashier you wound me. (Dramatic arm toss and fall to the floor as though shot through the heart by his barb)
Me: Thank you have a good day.
Watched him walk over to CS and complain about me.
I really don’t care.
And guess what customer man?
You are now on the Cashier Hit List.
I feel sorry for you.
All of this leads to today and no one saying excuse me.
I say excuse me all the time.
When I am passing someone in the aisle.
When I am reaching for something.
When I interrupt a conversation.
I was taught to say excuse me to be polite.
And yet I am watching society become more and more impolite as time goes on.
I went to leave home to go for my massage.
I was boxed in my a vehicle to the right and to the left of me.
And there was a vehicle parked right behind me.
Yep.
And the vehicle behind me parked there yesterday.
As I was leaving for work.
I am working hard to instill the ‘excuse me/pardon me’ response in T.
He is hit and miss.
But at least I am working on it.
If half the people I see are any indication then polite society is soon going to be unmannered and rude.
Which is a pity.
A little more care of attitude might make the world a slightly kinder place.
PS: Going to say I am not always polite.
I am not always even nice.
I work on it like I work on everything else.
©April 25/21
Picture is my own taken via Messenger App
The Wonderful and Wacky World of One Single Mom 