Journey! That’s right. Now if I can only think of the other one I sang.
Try bonding with him over Journey. Journey is huge in the Philippines these days ever since Arnel Pineda joined the band. I had an assistant manager from the Philippines a few years back who completely lost his shit with jealousy when I told him I’d seen them live recently. 
The Journey he was listening to, and it was over his phone, was definitely the Arnel Pineda version. It wasn’t the original guy; it’s in a different voice register.
Okay. I dub him Journey Man, and surrender my Woke Card for 24 hours.
Don’t forget to move your brother’s clothes to the lower peg.
I still don’t have the coffee price memorized, leading to a funny moment last night.
This jovial old guy comes up to me, next to his wife, holding a cup of coffee high in the air. “How much for a cup of coffee? For this face?” And he smiled.
“For that face?! 20 bucks.”
“HEY!”
And I said about his wife, “That face gets it for free.”
He laughed. “Okay, so how much is it, really?”
I scanned it. “We’ll meet somewhere in the middle. $2.12.”
God, I hope I can have this kind of rapport with customers at Wawa if I get hired there. This is so fun.
That might have something to do with your location. Where I grew up, in Michigan, all the grocery stores were union and some still are.
Don’t do that. That’s setting yourself up for legal trouble.
If a person can’t produce an ID when asked you can’t sell the item. You can’t sell it to someone with them who does have an ID because you then know that person is buying for someone else who may be underage and you very much could lose your job or get into legal problems over that.
Nope, nope, nope - you shouldn’t/can’t deny him the sale for anything else, just the age-restricted item. Stand your ground, the law is on your side.
Yep, that’s what they do here.
Some months ago a co-worker screwed up. She was fired on the spot, then the cops handed her an official piece of paper with a date to appear in court and escorted her out of the store. She’s facing up to a $5,000 fine and a possible six months in jail. Of course, that’s Indiana. The exact penalties will vary from state to state.
No, she shouldn’t do it. It can get the company into a LOT of trouble. I’ve worked a lot of places where working off the clock can get you fired.
Gosh, I’m full of doom and gloom in this post, aren’t I?
Nah, you’re just correcting with facts, since you’re, ah, not gonna blow smoke up his ass when he screws up, now are you?
Mentor is still not feeling well. Boss Lady called me in to pick up his 3-8 shift today. I’m working with Thief, the one who’s stealing money and lottery tickets. Boss Lady is going to deal with her when she gets back from Canada. Can’t do it right now. We’re simply too shorthanded. Things are that desperate. In the meantime, Boss Lady told me to keep an eye on her without being too obvious about it, as she has tried to pin her crimes on her coworkers in the past.
I’m going to be the #1 person on the register today and keep her away from the cash drawer as much as possible. She’s damn sure not going near mine. I will assume the cash drawer nearest the lottery tickets. She will be running the outside trash. I’m not leaving her alone in the store by herself for any length of time, let alone 20 minutes. Any other words of advice for me? And yes, she’s on camera wherever she goes.
How long is the Boss in Canada? It seems like she’s been gone a long time, if she doesn’t have backup to handle running the store.
StG
From the 1st to the 9th.
Today was very, very stressful. You’ll get a report after I’ve gathered some spoons. Right now, all I have to do is dreaaaaam… dream, dream, dream…
Day 27:
A 3-11 shift on a Tuesday afternoon/night, covering for Mentor, who’s still out sick. Today was a laundry open day, but I only managed to get one load of laundry to myself before all Hell broke loose.
When I got there, there was a repairman wearing an ICEE shirt who was here to clean the TurboChefs, the devices we use to cook our food items awfully quickly. They can heat up a full-sized pizza in a minute and 50 seconds. I asked him if he knew how to restock the fountain drinks, as both Sprite and lemonade now are not working, and he gave me instructions, saying it was very simple, but didn’t show me how to do it, as I asked him to. As a result, it didn’t get done, and I still don’t remember. Someone needs to get on that before we get another customer complaint about Sprite like the previous night.
I bent down in an office chair in the back to pick up something and landed on my ass when the chair toppled. And then I did it again, much later in the evening, when I was sitting in the front area. Fool me once…
I did bond a little with Journey Man over Journey! Thank you for the suggestion!
The police came in early in the shift looking for a White man in a purple shirt that had caused a nearby ruckus. I didn’t have an answer for them. I haven’t been recording people’s descriptions; I’d been so busy that all I’ve been doing is what they tell me. They left but stayed near their car. I thought, and said to Mr. Jerry, our every-day regular, to tell them that they were more than free to view our security camera. They declined the invitation.
Thief didn’t arrive on time. What else is new? Sometimes, it takes hours. Today, it took 40 minutes. First Shift was antsy to get to the other store in the next town over to start their shift, but I pleaded with them not to leave me alone by myself at the 3:30 peak time. They stayed until Thief arrived, and then they were out.
A Steelers fan was just passing through here on the way back from a game in Pittsburgh against the Falcons. I don’t remember how I managed it, but I convinced him to sign up for the 7Rewards program, told him how it worked-- explicitly mentioning that the gas discount is only if you pay at the pump-- and it was easy. I’m going to start pushing that as my top pitch, even though it doesn’t immediately make the store a dime. I’ve already been so successful at pushing the coffee-and-muffin for $2.49 deal that we’re literally down to only one muffin in the store. We can’t stock them fast enough. Blame me if it makes you feel better. I’ll happily accept it. hehe!
Normally I’m on Register 2, in the middle of the area, but I told First Shift to put me on Register 1, very near the lotto scratcher, and made up a bullshit excuse about “I get freaked out when people invade my personal space below the Southern Hemisphere of my body” to convince Thief to let me have exclusive access. If she stole a lotto scratcher, she was very, very slick about it tonight.
I was originally scheduled to work until 8, but Boss, who was flip-flopping on the fly worse than Vince McMahon during Monday Night RAW, moved me to 11 and Thief to 8, then switched it so that Thief would be there until 11 and I’d leave at 8. She didn’t do the latter until 7:45. It would take longer than that for my ride to get there. I texted her. “I’ve been working very hard to stop her from stealing things, per your request; you’re going to destroy my hard work if you allow her to be here by herself for three hours. I can handle it, and I solemnly swear that I will not steal from you.” I didn’t hear a reply, so I told Thief that that’s what we were going to do, because she’d already made plans and had been bitching about it all day anyway, and that if Boss had a problem with it, let me take the heat for it, which she was all too happy to do.
A very pregnant woman came in with her recently-snipped husband; they’re expecting their third child. I said something to the effect of, “My landlord, after he got snipped, was told by his doctor, ‘Just because you’re snipped doesn’t mean your wife can’t have a baby,’ and he had half a mind to slap the doctor.” They laughed. And then the man said, very sincerely, “I’d be all right with Baby #4. That’d be 18 years of someone else paying child support.” And then I added, “Not to mention, more importantly, another child to love.” “True.”
I continued my in-store concert today with some “Lovely Day” by Bill Withers. A customer heard it and started singing along, and we bonded over Withers and his song “Use Me”, which I just discovered and is my jam.
First Big Story: Around this time, Thief came up with the brilliant idea of putting $20 on Pump 1, where her car had been parked since she got here, and would remain until she got off from work. She was going to pay for the gas five hours in advance and leave her car there, blocking traffic, and I thought she was doing that as a way to steal gas. I told her she shouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, despite my politness. Finally, I had had it.
I pointed my finger in her face, and yelled at her. “NO! You will NOT do this!” And then she called me crazy and freaked out and called Boss Lady and told me that I needed to be gone, and that I was probably on crazy pills or something. (Which is a fair cop. But what the hell is she trying to pull here, anyway? Doesn’t this seem a little bit shady?) The audacity of this bitch, she called Boss Lady trying to get me in trouble for raising my voice, and to get permission to do what she wanted. Or at least, she said she called Boss Lady. I don’t believe her. But she did do what she wanted to do.
Later, I told her, another lie, that I worked in Loss Prevention at Blockbuster for two years and this was a common tactic used by thieves. She said I didn’t work in Loss Prevention anymore, and that she and I were the same rank, and I needed to back the hell off. I couldn’t counter that without telling her that I’d been explcitly told to watch her. But I did apologize for raising my voice and pointing my finger in her face.
Second Big Story: People, all day, were giving me grief about me checking their ID for tobacco and alcohol purchases. But I am constant as the Northern Star. I’m not going to jail because they can’t be arsed to walk back out to their car or even remember to bring it with them.
To a younger gentleman, I shared a word of advice, and I don’t remember the context: “Life is more than just a job. Don’t work too hard. They can replace you in five minutes.” He took it to heart, I think. Now if I can only follow my own advice.
Thief was bitching about the flip-flopping of the schedule, LOUDLY, in front of the customers for about an hour and a half. Finally, I spoke sotto voce to her. “[Name], please don’t think that I don’t sympathize. But you’ve been complaining loudly about it for an hour and a half, and it’s time to move on, please.” It worked for a little while.
Third Big Story: Cat Lady came in, and I had some expired milk for her and a song already in mind to sing for her. But before I could do that, I needed to process four people using the lotto machine, and then they stuck around to use the gaming slots. I’m telling you, these people have a serious problem. At one of the gamblers’ requests, when I told Cat Lady I was going to sing for her, I sang “Silent Night”. I stopped after the second line, but she asked me to finish, so I did.
And then I sang “I’ll Take Lonely Tonight” by Tim Minchin, as if I was singing it on stage.
She was very deeply moved, and smiled at the funny parts. Everyone was very complimentary. Fuck this 7-Eleven stuff. I should be performing concerts. Does anybody have any idea how I might go about doing that? Oooo… do it at church. Yes, I’m going to ask permission to perform a benefit concert at church for a mission. Let’s start with The Trevor Project.
Thief wasn’t dropping her cash, at least not her 20s, into the safe, but onto the drawer below it where we store the coin rolls. So I had a feeling she was just waiting for me to turn my back. But I didn’t.
The same guy who came in yesterday without his ID (“You’ve checked my ID three times already!”) came in today. “Remember me?” “I sure do,” I said. “Sweet.” “But I’m still checking your ID. Sorry.” He didn’t get booze or cigs, but his friend was like, “You should know us by now.” I told him I see 500 people a day, and that I promise, I don’t know him. I’m not picking on him. I did patch things up with No-ID Guy, though, and told him I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.
I went to the restroom, and 45 minutes later, when I went to the back to tie my shoe, I realized my fly was still open. Thankfully, no one noticed. I joked about it with Thief. “Didn’t nobody say nothing.” We actually got along pretty well after the argument and my apology.
Thief found what appeared to be a heroin container, at least to her, in the fountain drink area. I wouldn’t personally know what one looked like. She threw it out instead of informing the police. Her call. Not the one I would have made. Not that we have anyone to charge.
I had to take my snack/medication break on my feet with two simple hardboiled eggs which tasted gross. I couldn’t trust her to man the front by herself for even 5 minutes.
I made good use out of the very little Spanish I know today, more on that later, but I accidentally spoke it to an Arabic man whom I thought I’d heard speaking Spanish. The confused shrug on his face was kinda funny. He was very sweet, though. Shit, I’m as white as the day is long; I can’t tell a distinct physical difference between Hispanics and MIddle Easterners. Please don’t revoke my woke card for saying that. I just got it back. In any event, I decided in this case that it was best to err on the side of kindness.
A Black male regular whom I’d never seen before came in just to use the microwave to nuke food from home. I asked him if he was getting anything, and he said, “Nah; do you want to inspect my food?” I declined, telling him that would be stupid and even racist of me.
I figured out how to use the pole to close the front door from behind the counter. Journey Man taught me yesterday, and today, I did it for the first time by myself. It’s a useful skill. When the right door is slightly ajar, you can hear a fan for some reason, and it makes a dreadful row.
Thief taught me how to cook cheeseburgers. Very useful skill. We actually got along pretty well after our tiff, at least on a surface level.
A well-dressed little girl came in with her mother to get food, and when they got to the register, I told them I was surprised that someone so young was coming here this late at night and not getting a Slurpee. “SHH!” her mother said, and she grinned. She was well-dressed because she’d performed in a school presentation, playing an original composition of her own on the piano. I swear to you, she couldn’t have been older than 10. I told her, “Fellow musician! Fist bump.” And then I said that the power to create music is a unique gift that most people don’t have, and it can get her far in this world if she’s willing to use it. She told me her brother is much better since he’s been doing it for six years, and I said, “No negative self-talk, please. You’re a young woman, and you are going to spend your entire life getting told that you’re not good enough. Don’t do that to yourself, too. Reach for your dreams.” She thanked me, and then said, “So… you said something about a Slurpee?” hehe! Brat.
I complimented a young Black man who came in wearing a Looney Tunes jacket. We bonded over the cartoon for a moment, and I did a very poor Bugs Bunny impersonation: “I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque!” and gave him the context for it. He told me his father had gotten it for him last year as a getting-out-of-jail gift, and that he’s never going back. I told him he shouldn’t let one screw-up define his entire life. That’s the whole point of prison, to make you regret what you did.
A man came in to buy an unusual brand of cigarettes for his wife. I said, “I couldn’t find them for awhile; I guess that makes you special.” He said, “Nah; it’s my wife; I quit 35 years ago, but she won’t; she loves smoking. And when she gets cancer…” I nodded. “Whose job is it to be the faithful husband?”
A security guard from a nearby warehouse came in. I told him about the cops from earlier, and he assured me he wasn’t there for that, but just to get food. He shared stories from a methadone clinic he used to work at. People were in a bad way there. I cooked him a pizza, and sang “The Frim Fram Sauce”, deliberately “forgetting” to start the oven until we could have a brief lull in the conversation and I could sing. He didn’t notice.
An older Black man came in when I wasn’t looking, plopped down a playslip on the counter and asked me to play the numbers. I did, but didn’t know who’d asked. I asked a younger White man if it was his slip, and he said no, and then the Black man claimed it. I laughed. “I was so not paying attention at that moment! Y’all don’t look anything alike! Of course, we’re all brothers in the sight of the Lord.” They admitted that was true, and now they both had great stories to tell at home.
A Black man with a very distinguished (but still not gray) beard came in. I said, “This is probably a little silly, because your beard is very distinguished and you’re clearly in your 30s, but I’ve gotta check ID. Company policy.” And he still gave me hell. He even argued with me about the age to stop checking IDs. It’s 40, goddammit; it’s posted everywhere that sells cigarettes, except, apparently, when I need it the most. It’s not 30. He even gave me hell for ignoring what cigarettes he wanted (Step 2) before showing me his ID (Step 1).
A woman got three of our pork egg rolls, which I just now realized were pork, so I’d better not sell them to Muslims by mistake. She kept going back for more stuff. I quickly grabbed the fourth egg roll so she wouldn’t eat what I wanted. She went back for a Coke fountain drink and I decided not to put her through the rigamarole again unless she got two. It’s on the house.
My brother from another mother, Davak’s, dog passed away tonight. He called me at about 6 telling me that his dog was going to die, and dammit, I would have given anything to be there with him on a phone call in that moment. He texted to tell me the dog had died at 8. I called him at 9, after Thief had left, to express my condolences. He told me that he thinks he ate a prickly pear near his home in Florida, and he’d been swirling the drain for the last two days. He’s not going to tell his two daughters. They’d been planning on rehoming the dogs anyway because they got evicted from their rent-to-own and now live in a tiny home on Davak’s mother’s house. He’s going to lie to them to spare them that pain. I told him I disagreed with him and wouldn’t have done the same thing, but they’re his kids, and his choice.
A guy came in from a repair company while I was by myself after Thief left. (I was there by myself from 9-11). He told me that he’d been called in on a trip hazard in the parking lot; did I know anything about it? I didn’t, and I couldn’t help him investigate, because I was there by myself. He left the store and came back awhile later.
One of the parking dividers had been smashed into and had an enormous piece of rebar exposed. He removed it. I offered him a free fountain drink in thanks. He got that and an $8 bag of beef jerky. “Damn you,” he was like, pulling my tail, “your whole intent was to upsell me, wasn’t it?”
Then I said, very sincerely, “My intent was to help thank you for making the world a better place, one customer at a time.” He was deeply moved by that and thanked me for the positive vibes.
I tore off a scratcher at a customer’s request and then he wanted to put it back and get another one. When I told him I couldn’t untear it, he asked if I could simply put it back. Fine. Get what you want. Sorry for the sass. It’s been a long day, and you’re not even #10 on my weird shit-o-meter today.
I finally sat down, in an office chair in the front, at 9:45, with an hour and 15 minutes to go in my shift.
I could really use some de-escalation training, I realized at this point.
Work Ethic Lady came in at around 10:30, and while I was ringing up a customer, the customer revealed she’d used to work at a truck stop. We bonded over idiots trying to buy without ID.
At some point, several hours earlier, a woman who came in to replace the card display told me that Ukraine had bombed Russia with American missiles. I pumped my fist and exclaimed in a loud voice, “SLAVA UKRAINI!”
Nerd Girl eventually came in to supplement Work Ethic Girl, and by this point it was 11 o’clock, I hadn’t counted my drawer or lotto yet, and I just wanted to go home. She chastised me that I should get better at working by myself. Rather than pointing out that I was watching a future felon the entire day, I bit my tongue and simply said, “Yes, ma’am.” I’d been fighting all day, and I was done.
Fourth Big Story: I was so excited about all the Spanish I was speaking to customers that I signed up for Duolingo and am going to start trying to teach myself Spanish. If I can do that, I’ll be able to talk to 99% of my customers.
What is the most compelling story from this day?
- First Big Story: Argument with Thief over possible attempt to steal gas
- Second Big Story: People bitching at me all day about checking ID
- Third Big Story: “Silent Night” and “I’m Gonna Take Lonely Tonight” concert for a captive audience; idea of doing a benefit concert for The Trevor Project
- Fourth Big Story: Learning Spanish through Duolingo
- A minor story (please explain below)
0 voters
Does 7-Eleven not use 5-gallon bag-in-boxes for the drink fountain? Those were the standard in my fast food days, and the Coke ones use a different nozzle than the Pepsi ones do, but they were pretty easy to swap out - just screw the nozzle off the old one, screw it on to the new one, and let the co2 do the work.
Of course, that was in the days before Coke Freestyle, which I believe uses a BIB of unflavored high-fructose corn syrup and smaller cartridges of concentrated flavoring.
They do, they do. He told me that. But he didn’t show me how to do it, even when I asked him to. I’m a visual learner. I even told him that once he taught me, I’d train everybody else, because even Mentor doesn’t know how to do it. “We’ve got a guy that does that for us.” Only he didn’t, this time.
It’s 6:24 in the morning, and I haven’t slept a wink yet. I’m too wound up from work. I called 7-Eleven and spoke to Work Ethic Lady, and asked if she could talk to Boss Lady and see about getting me the day off from my 3-8 (probable 3-11 if Mentor calls off) shift today. I’m about to fall apart. I’m on psych meds and Social Security disability, goddamn it. If I work too much, I risk losing my benefits. As it is, this is adversely affecting my mental health, especially having gone since November 26-27 without two days off in a row (and we were busy on that Sunday, going into Norfolk for a concert). I need time to unwind. I’m a human being, and I was subsisting on SSI alone. This is just discretionary income for me.
I told Work Ethic Lady most of this, and she sighed sympathetically and asked, “So, you’re quitting?” “No. I love this job; I just need a day off, please.”
Here you go!
And certain non-Coke, non-Pepsi products (Dr. Pepper for instance) use a different connector, so here’s one for that type;
To say nothing of the fact that I’m assuming shift-leader duties for CSR pay. Fuckin’ pay me, maybe. If you want more than minimum effort out of most people, you need to give them more than minimum wage. Minimum effort is, “I’m here on time, I’m clean, and my cash drawer is pretty acceptable, and I keep up on the pizzas.” I’m doing a tad bit more than that. Slightly.
It is now 7:09 a.m. No sleep yet. About 20 minutes ago, I started sobbing completely inconsolably. I immediately picked up the phone and called 988, the National Crisis Hotline. I told them the situation with Thief and the people giving me shit about ID, and told them that I’m at my wits’ end. I’m not suicidal, but I need help.
I’d been talking to my mother for the last six hours, swirling the drain the whole time, and not once had she asked me about my coping skills. The Crisis Hotline lady did that in about five minutes. I’m going to listen to music, eat, and talk to my online friends.
In the meantime, I’m taking a mental health day off from work, and I could give a damn if they can find coverage for me or not. Assistant Manager will call me as soon as she gets in, and speak to me in the privacy of her car.
The burnout is real with this one.
Do not let this happen. Verify how many hours per week (month?) you are allowed to work without forfeiting your disability payments, inform management of that limit, and stick to it. Don’t stay late to cover for someone if it’ll put you over your allotted hours - it’s management’s responsibility to staff appropriately, not yours.
I think you’re taking on a lot more than you “should” given your job description and pay. Remember: “give an inch, and they’ll take a mile.”
Why should they pay you more if you’re willing to do all the extra work for free?
This is a prime example. You’re getting so caught up in Management Problems (and employee theft is most definitely a Management Problem) that you’re not able to keep up with the stuff you ARE supposed to do.
Hence, the burnout.
I’m sorry if this feels like I’m kicking you when you’re down, and I can tell you’re emotionally vulnerable right now. I just hope you can find some way to balance your work life better, because you’re a good worker and any company would be lucky to have you … but not at the expense of your own physical and mental health.
No, I needed to hear that.
I called in for a mental health day, after quoting First Big Story and Second Big Story from this thread verbatim, only with everyone’s real names, and stressing that Thief was encouraging me to let things slide with the ID requirements. Which I forgot to mention in this thread. Because of course she did.
Assistant Manager said she’d try to find someone to cover, and hopes to see me Thursday. I told her I’d see her Thursday, but finding coverage for today is frankly going to have to be her problem.
Incidentally, I had to needle Assistant Manager to call me back on her cell phone from the privacy of her own car. “It’s okay; no one’s listening.” “It’s 7-Eleven; the door to the back room is propped open. There’s always someone listening.”
I had a mental health crisis. I was texting my blood-brother Davak, and started writing,
Last year, I read a very sad and depressing article about a woman who’d paid her rent about 5 years in advance and died in her apartment, and no one noticed until the power company finally came to turn off services. I live in fear that one day I’ll disappear and no one will know or care, and it’ll be as if I never existed. Please don’t let that happen to me, brother. I’m bawling my eyes right now. I had a very stressful day at work. I haven’t gotten any sleep.
While I was writing out the text, I started crying completely uncontrollably, and I called 988 and then finished writing the text. 988 told me to use my coping skills, which I tried to do, but finishing the text set me off again. I tried calling Davak, but he was at work, so I called my pastor, and she helped a lot. She also told me to use my coping skills, which is something that both 988 and my pastor achieved in 5 minutes when Mom didn’t in 5 hours. I always need a second person to tell me that.
I really, really need to go to bed before I end up in the hospital. Good night.
I actually dreamed I was you this morn, working there!