You Should Keep Your Bazooka in the Closet
I’ve always been one to try to help others as much as I could, in whatever way that I could. It’s a conscience thing, and even though some people hold to the truths of Karma, I just simply believe that “what goes around comes around.” I have tried to lead by example in the hopes that others would follow. I rarely turn down a request for help. I have been thought of as helpful, eager to work and always ready to lend a hand. But recently, I have been referred to, playfully of course, as a “sap”. But as anyone knows, most saps can become a sticky and gooey mess if not handled carefully. My mother always told me that if you see someone needing help, help them. They might be an angel in disguise.
In the past week there have been a couple of instances where a customer became annoyed because one of us in the meat department didn’t use enough tongue while kissing their butt. Sorry about that. We’ll try to do better next time. Just because we may look in your general direction, doesn’t mean that we made “eye contact” with you. It was quite possible that we were looking at the hot chick behind you. And to the guy who asked for “three half pound eye of round roasts”, please realize that I don’t speak redneck, and if you wanted a “three and a half pound” roast, you should have asked for one the right way instead of wasting time and making yourself look more stupid than you already were.
I was looking at my Facebook page recently. I noticed that there are some people that have well over a hundred friends on their list. Shannon, for example (remember him?) has over 200 people on his Facebook list, but only about 15 of them are real friends, the rest are hookers from around the country. What’s the point? Does that make him look like a swinger? Maybe at Krispy Kreme. But I noticed that there are some people that have no real FB life, and they go through everyone else’s wall postings and make some kind of stupid comment in a conversation that doesn’t concern them. They usually speak in clichés, and end their random stupidity with “LOL!” or “:-p” . Talk about annoying.
And today, a coworker came in after her lunch break and she seemed irritated. It seems that she was “accosted” by a lady that was old enough to be Katharine Hepburn’s mother. This woman approached my friend and asked her if she regularly chewed gum in public. My friend was a little dumfounded at her question, and there was a short heated exchange. The old hag’s (the old lady, not my friend) point of view was that no self respecting woman would chew her gum in public, but do it privately in the confines of her home (keep it in the pantry with your cupcakes?). It’s too bad that she is probably the only woman left in America that goes into the hall closet to perform the sinful act of chewing her bubble gum while reading the comics with a flashlight.
There is never a dull moment on my job. There is always fuel for interesting conversation, and every day when I look forward to dealing with the throngs of customers (or the thongs of customers), it is a constant but gentle reminder to me that I need to take my blood pressure medication before I leave the house.
Copyright 2009/2011 By Del Banks
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