A slight loss of sanity

I’m seriously pissed right now. It’s cold and flu season and everyone is being extra cautious. Me especially. 

I wash my hands before and after my shift. 

I wear gloves when dealing with money.

I had my flu shots (even though I’m scared of needles)

I do everything I can to keep from getting sick. 

Until this lady...this horrible smudge of a life form did the most disgusting thing.

she sneezed in my face.

Like full on in my face. No covering of the mouth, no turning to the side, no weird ‘back away’ hand gestures. Just full on face expulsion over the counter. 

I tried to turn away but I felt the wet sneeze debris spray over my neck and ear. 

The worst part is she didn’t apologize. No “I’m sorry for possibly infecting you.” No “Oops.” just a sniffle and a bland look like I’m taking too long to ring up her nasty pea soup colored sweater.

 We’re all hanging out, drinking/eating, and someone brought up the new Avengers' movie infinity wars.

Friend #1: In the new one Black Widow is blonde! A Blonde! 

Friend #2: (has never seen any Avengers movie)  So? Black women can be blonde dumbass.

Friend #1: What? Black widow isn’t black. She’s white and a redhead!

Friend #2: But she’s called black widow? Why can’t she be black?

Friend #1: (Very offended/Very drunk) Black widow can’t be black, she’s Russian.

Me (Only sober one): Guys...there are black people in Russia you know?

It seems that the new year comes with new disappointments.

January 1st 2018, I got my first death threat of the year at work.

they come occasionally, mostly from frustrated middle-aged hags who want to speak to my manager when I won’t give them discounts or let them get regular items for clearance prices (But they were on the sale shelf!) 

But this was particularly annoying. I’m doing an exchange for a lady. she wants to return a pair of pants she got and is trying to get a sale priced pair of pants instead. But she just doesn’t get that she still has some money left on the ticket. 

So after ten minutes of explanation, she bustles around the store for another item. Grabbing a small decorative basket which still doesn’t cover the remaining money on the ticket.

A line crowds the register so I call my manager to open the second register. So she’s hearing everything.

The woman has $0.19 cents on her ticket. I ask if she’d like that on a gift card (Because our store won’t allow us to give cash back) 

Well, she loses it. 

No, she doesn’t want no damn 20 cents on no damn gift card. she can’t understand why I can’t just do my damn job and get her money. Am I a moron? I gotta be a true blue dumb bitch if I can’t figure out how to get her 20 god damn cents.

it’s a rant reaching world ending proportions. Customers in the other line are digging pennies and Nickles out of their pockets to give her. 

Finally, my manager finishes with the other customers and hurries to the back. she comes out with twenty pennies and hands it off. 

As she leaves I throw out a “Have a happy new year!” just trying to be polite.

she shoots back “It’d be a good new year when you're gone. I’d run your ass over if I was in my car!” 

My manager and I just stand there for a moment. then I let out a “BIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-”

“Hailey!” 

I now regret my five pounds of chocolate.

I had over four different holiday parties this season and I got an unholy amount of chocolate from them. (And a pineapple, but that’s another story)

I should have known better but I had a Netflix binge-watching session and ended up eating what I have estimated to be over five pounds of chocolate Santas, mini Reeses, tiny chocolate squares, mini coal chocolates, and other assorted goodies. 

As I look over the ripped leavings of my sugary feast, I have never felt such a mix of accomplishment and fear. 

I just had the most amazing mother come to my store today. She comes waltzing in with her four-year-old spawn toddling after her. 

Now my store is smallish, so most parents just let their kids run wild throughout it. I hate that. They usually tear through the racks, throw shoes and toys and everything everywhere, and no matter what I do the parents refuse to reel them in.

but not this mom.

No, this beautiful mother made her boy stick to her hip like sap on a tree. He would try to wander and she’d just pull him back without even looking up from her browsing.

“Kevin, stay with me.”

“Kevin, don’t leave the aisle without me.”

“Kevin, you know better.”

Kevin was obviously impatient, but he was sticking to mama.

I quickly realized that she had a system. They were slowly working their way throughout the store aisle by aisle. I realized that her pattern would allow her to end the trip at the toy aisle, where I assume Kevin would be rewarded for good behavior. 

But four-year-olds are not known for their patience. 

Kevin eventually takes a stand and makes his own way to the toys without his mama. 

She barely looks up from the jeans rack as she warns him. “Kevin, get back over here.”

“I wan’ toys.”

“Not yet. Come back over here, Kevin.” 

But Kevin is determined to get to the toys, so he walks out of the jeans section and heads toward the shelves lined with toys. 

Mom doesn’t miss a beat. She bundled the clothes she already has and marches over to my register. “Come on Kevin.”

Kevin hesitates. I make my way over to check them out. Mom sternly says his name. “Kevin.”

Kevin unhappily rejoins her side, waits for a beat, then unleashes the most sudden and explosive tantrum I have ever seen. This kid went zero to sixty in no seconds flat. I mean the whole tantrum shitck. Screaming, kicking, crying, slapping his hands against the side of the counter, falling to the floor and unleashing the howling sounds of hell. This kid was serious about his toy needs. 

Mom just ignores him. I take my cue from her and just start ringing her stuff up. ignoring the fact that my register is wobbling from the actions of her child and customers are afraid to come closer to my registor as Kevin loses it on the floor.

Moments pass with stilted silence from the adults and hellish screaming from the kid as I ring up the items. Finally, mom acknowledges him. “Kevin, are you done?”

Kevin screams incoherently. Obviously not done. 

Mom nods. “Okay then, when we get home you’re taking a nap instead of having snack time.”

Kevin shrieks louder, devastated. 

“Yeah, and it was pudding cup day man.” Mom shrugs in a ‘what can you do’ way. 

Kevin loses his mind. 

A line has formed at my register. Everyone is mesmerized by how chill this mom is about her misbehaving spawn. Mom has finished paying and heads to the door, barely turning back to speak to her son. “Kevin, we’re leaving, come on.”

Kevin sniffles and wails. Petering off as it’s evident he’s not going to win this battle of wills with mom. With all the grace of a newly hatched chick, he picks himself up and makes his way to mom. 

They leave and I am left surprised and awed by the effectiveness of this mom. 

she never got mad.

she never hit or even physically reprimanded Kevin. (If that was me at four, my mom would have taken a hanger off the rack an beat me with it right then and there)

She didn’t give him what he wanted. (Too many times parents give kids what they want just to shut them up)

And she effectively taught him that actions have consequences. ‘if you don’t stay by my side, you don't get toys. If you throw a tantrum, you don’t get a pudding cup’

I was listening to the reprise of stay alive and something struck me with the lyrics. When Phillip was telling his father what happened.

Pa! I did exactly as you said, Pa I held my head up high (I know, I know, shh) (I know, I know, shh) I know you did everything just right, (shh)

Even before we got to ten (shh) I was aiming for the sky (I know, I know, shh) I was aiming for the sky

What if he was able to complete his sentences Phillip meant to say.

‘Even before we got to ten’  He was shot before the count was finished.

‘I was aiming for the sky’ I was shot while my hand was still up for the count.

1. An Older woman comes up to register to buy a new purse, I look into the purse, find three smaller purses hidden inside. Ask lady if she knew, she, of course, knows nothing about the purses. But she’ll buy them anyway. Of course, she would.

2. A creepy old man with ponytail insistently asks how old I am and whether or not I am 21. He makes sure that I know about the ‘deal’ they have at a local bar with discounts for ‘cute girls’. Creep level Delta Alpha 5

3. Super aggressive lady get angry that we don’t do holiday layaway. Curses me out while I try to explain that thrift stores don’t do layaway, especially on five dollar items.

4. A twenty-year-old man getting mad at me that my store doesn’t offer a military discount. (Idk why) Then he promises, (PROMISES!) that he served...in Vietnam. In the Vietnam War! a twenty-year-old.

Cutest thing happened at work. Little girl wanted to buy a doll so her mom had her count out her money to see if she had enough.

I have realized that I essentially devolve as a human while I’m at work. I have a nauseating placid smile smeared across my face for hours at a time. I do the same six or seven actions on endless repeat throughout my shift. My voice is weird and pitched in a decibel I never use outside of the store. I repeat the same dead voiced lines over and over and over. “Is there anything I can help you with?” “Are you ready to check out?” “Would you like your receipt?” “Have a nice day” “Have a nice day” “Have a nice day” “HAVE A NICE FUCKING DAY!!”