There are few things about adulthood I enjoy, but shopping happens to be one of them. Shopping alone is pretty cool, in comparison to what I'm used to.
For one, there's no "elder authority figure" to tell me how to shop- "don't, touch, look at, or ask for nothin'" is not applicable here.
I don't have to compete with any of my siblings for junk food, or deal with someone talking over me or fighting over the last Nutty Bar.
Then there's just that knowledge that I'm in charge. I'm an adult now- I can eat or wear whatever I want each week without physical repercussions, aside from constipation or ulcers from drinking nothing but soda, or lack of a certain article of clothing because that pair of shoes I'm only gonna wear once is totally worth half my measly ass paycheck.
Another thing I like about shopping alone is the cashiers.
Okay, sure, sometimes you get those rude cashiers who feel like they're too good for the job or just canonically hate people, but there's also the good.
Those nice ones you encounter once in a while who genuinely make an effort to converse with their customers and remember names and faces. Small things make me happy.
Today, however, instead of experiencing that freedom and happiness of walking around and making a purchase, I was behind the counter.
Today I am one of those cashiers and I get to see why some become so rude, on my first day.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but there's nothing I myself can do. If you'd like I can call a manag-"
"What do you mean, nothing you can do? I want my money back and I have the item in hand, same condition as I bought it."
I sighed internally and my lifesaver ball of sunshine, Ash, appeared out of thin air.
"Excuse me, I'm the team manager, Ash. Is there an issue I can be of service in solving?"
The lady proceeded to tell them a warped rendition of what she thought was happening- roughly, a (black female) cashier was giving her a hard time when all she wanted to do was get her money back for a shirt she claimed was too tight.
But when Ash asked for the receipt- as I'd previously done more than four times- the customer started gradually dialing her tone down and eventually begrudgingly left with the item in a larger size.
"Don't worry about it, rookie. You'll get used to that type of thing soon enough. People love to give white jackets a hard time."
To clarify, the inside of the store was pretty cold and we weren't expected to wear uniforms, so the managers and shift leads wore grey jackets with the store's logo on the left breast while sales associates such as myself wore the white with the logo on the left breast. If the jackets weren't enough of an indicator we also wore store brand lanyards with our store IDs- used to log in and out of the cash register and wristbands used to clock in or out.
Very high tech stuff, really- it seemed very straightforward but it's taken a while to grasp the concept of.
"Well, your relief is here so you shouldn't have any issues closing down your register before the end of your shift. I'll send Mark to help you with that since I need to go on break."
I nodded and Ash walked off, leaving me in front of what felt like alien technology at the moment. I could barely figure out how to ring things up because of the drawn out process and now I was expected to learn another process entirely that seemed nearly dangerous.
"KitKat!"
I jumped slightly, shocked at the sound of a familiar and loud voice. It's the same greeting he gave me nearly every day in high school up until he graduated.
I turned around and Jackson started clapping, calling out, "I knew it was you! Your hair's just different!"
I smiled despite myself and nodded. "Hey."
"This is so weird. I feel like I'm back in Spanish 1 with the freshmen again." He wrapped his arms around me as I made my way around the counter.
I awkwardly reciprocated the hug, honestly speechless. I was never good with speaking to him because just like every other girl I sort of crushed on him, a little. His hair was bleach blonde underneath his hat, and he smelled really good, as to be expected. Like in high school even his laundry detergent always had a masculine scent to it with a citrusy undertone but it was more subtle now. Comforting either way.
"When did you start?" He asked, leaving a hand to linger on my arm and gently squeeze before he pulled away completely.
"Ah, today, more or less..."
He smiled. "What?"
"Today I'm...I just, today is, first day on the register." Damn, my English sucks when I'm nervous. Why, when the only language I speak is English? Why am I so nervous?
He smiled wider before his eyes flicked behind me and he gasped. "Makipoo!"
I glanced back and in walked the infamous Mark I'd kept hearing about but never actually saw up until yesterday. He was admittedly very cute, and he was also nice and patient with me yesterday. I was supposed to basically shadow him for the duration of my training- his absence moments ago was merely due to a mixup with a shipment and he, as the only free hands who knew how things worked, offered to help take everything back out to the truck.
"Jackson. Can you give us a minute to finish up? We'll only be about thirty minutes," Mark said to Jackson before standing relatively close behind me.
******
"You lied," Jackson said after approximately thirty minutes, six instances of Mark taking four customers and multiple mistakes on my part later.
"I'm sorry, I sighed. "You don't have to stay and help, I can ask Ash."
"No, no, don't worry- this is what I'm here for....KitKat." Mark teased.
God, it's been less than an hour and Jackson's already got him started.
"See? Done." Mark dropped the touch screen's pen for me to sign off after him before he sighed.
"What?"
There was a long pause and Ash returned before Mark spoke again. "I need to close mine now."
~~~~~~
I was gone wait to put this out but this babysitting irl thing got me hype.
The SECOND chapter will be up Friday, how about that?
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