Stitched together with Good Intentions

So I work at a local grocery store about a two minute walk from my house. I tend to try to not let things bug me but last night took the fucking cake

I go into work, (I work in the meat and seafood department) and start doing dishes. My coworker “Dan” would help customers while I lessened the giant pile that was left for me. I would help some customers when there was more than one person at the counter. Out manager “Trevor” was no where to be seen.

So I would continue doing my dishes and then Dan had to take a break. So he mentioned he’d go talk to Trevor about coming to help us. Which I didn’t mind. I finished up the last of my pile and then moved on to labeling hamburger to put out in the case. Dan came back and looked a little somber, but I just imagined that talking to Trevor got on his nerves. I could relate. As I grabbed more hamburger to continue filling the case, he said: “Kimi, can you come into the office so we can talk?” At first my heart sank, because the other night I was venting about him to another coworker and I was afraid that what I said was relayed to him. So I said sure, put down the burger and took off my jacket. Then proceeded to go into the office. He started telling me that I need to be more careful of cleaning early. Which I understood, and I don’t normally start cleaning the department until 4:30-5 when we know we’re not going to have to grind up more burger, or cut anymore bone-in items. So I wasnt entirely sure what he was getting at, but I wanted to remain professional. He told me around 4:30 would be fine, as long as things were slow enough. So I told him I understood, and would try to push back my routine. He said that it wasn’t even about that. Because one night I was cleaning the grinder and it was Trevor, Dan and I in the department. We had a few customers, which I would help some if it got overwhelming. He told me that I was just “going to town” on the grinder while basically letting him and Dan do all the work. Which I found ludicrous because if Dan needed my help, he always lets me know. But again, I wanted to remain professional and just nodded along to what he was saying. After all that, I went back to putting labels in the burger. Dan walks up to me and asks how it went. I said it wasn’t bad, he just told me to clean later and pay more attention to everything which I’ve been doing. Dan then told me he knew he was going to talk to me because apparently I wasn’t supposed to start cleaning until six, which I had never heard up until that moment. Then I got a little frustrated. I was washing the HUGE mound of dishes that were left for me, I wasn’t starting anything. Dan understood and said he would’ve told me before the talk, but that he would get in trouble if he did. I understood. I went through the next half hour making sure everything was good, and getting things ready to clean. I started the grinder, got that done around 5:30, starting taking apart the saw. I had noticed Trevor was gone for a long time, because he was supposed to be there with me until seven. So I asked Dan what happened to him. “Oh he went home.” Then I kinda snapped “You mean he has the balls to tell me not to clean early, knowing full well he was going to leave early, and fuck me over if I didn’t start when I did?” He said he didn’t like it any more than me. So I took my break and starting the saw parts and the benches, irritated in the inside but it was out of hands. At 6, Dan left and I was alone until 9. Which isn’t a problem for me, I’m fully capable, but it’s just still frustrating. Then the best part of my night was when this coupe of guys walked up to the counter. I asked if there was anything I could help them with in my over-sweet customer service voice. And they said they’d need a minute. Staring at the glass smearing their fingers all over it for a good ten minutes. And they said they were ready.

“Okay, how can I help you?”

“We want salmon!” Said guy one (he was maybe ten years older than the other).

“I can help you with that, what kind and how much?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....what’s local?” Asked guy number 2.

“The most local salmon we have is the Gulf of Maine Atlantic Salmon.”

“Well take the regular Atlantic. Just over half a pound”

So I cut the salmon and it came out to .550 lb. they downright refused it and wanted more. No problem, I cut a piece that came out to .660 lbs and they were all right with that. Next they wanted lobster tails and asked if we had any tails that weren’t frozen. I replied no, and they he pressed his face against the lobster tank.

“You have any lobsters that are under a pound?”

“No. They all range between a pound and a quarter to a pound and a half.”

“Can you show me this one here?” And proceeded to point out a boater in the tank. I get the little scooper and pull him out and he hold his hands out asking if he could hold it and check it out himself.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.”

“No? Well I don’t like that ones claws, so can you pull out this one?”

“Sure.” And I get another lobster out.

“Ugh I don’t like that one either, and the tail is so little and dinky. Do any of them have a bigger tail?”

“They’re all pretty uniform in size.” My eyes were almost about to start twitching.

“Ummmmmmm....show me this one.”

About to snap the damned scooper in half, I grabbed the lobster and showed him. He still wasn’t impressed but I was just thankful I didn’t have to fish again for a fourth time.