I suffered a sudden schedule change and it is back to working nights for me. It's evenings really but it feels like nights after two years of being an early riser, however; I am kind of happy about it despite the odd hours. I'll deal with the public less and that is a good thing. People put me on edge and they have been pretty crazy over the past year. Fear, or panic, or repression, or something has pushed a sizable percentage of the population past their breaking point and I have served as a daily witness.
A man yelled fuck you to me as he stormed out. The tiny, weathered, old, Mexican-American-Indian who works to my right, asked him to calm down through his heavy accent. "Fuck you too" was the angry man's response. All I had done was (sternly) tell to step behind the "protective" glass. I don't enforce covid rules but this guy was leaning way too far over the counter and I could smell his lunch on his breath as he tried to bark an order at me so I used the now too common boogie man to my benefit. He didn't like that, apparently, and decided to have some words with me before driving several miles to a much busier location and waiting in an even longer line to be helped on by even ruder employees so I feel like I won in the end.
An older man challenged my old coworker to "step outside." I'd put my money on the younger old man. I've seen him do manual labor and I am completely confident that he could have kicked the cane out from under his aged opponent and rendered him immobile with ease. Sadly (for entertainment purposes), the conflict never boiled over and the older old man lived to be a dick another day.
I had to "rescue" an elderly Asian lady from a road rage incident in the parking lot. Something had happened to those two customers before they pulled in. The man came in, bought something, and walked out as the woman was getting out of her car. She was standing there like a deer in the headlights while he yelled (loud enough that I could hear through the glass) about how she needs to learn to drive. I thought I'd intervene before things escalated so I stepped out and called her away from him and watched as she walked over and he got in his car.
That act of "heroism" backfired though, as I was stuck with task of comforting a now crying customer who, in broken, sobbing, English was saying something about how "he will visit her in her dreams" and I am not at all trained for that shit. I know how to ship stuff, and throw stuff and now I have to figure out how to console her while I have a line growing behind her. I had to act fast but, luckily, I had an ace up my sleeve.
Weeks ago, I had told my new supervisor a cleaver little lie for an occasion such as this. I convinced him that one ring of the bell on my counter means that a customer needs his help (they never come when I ring once), two rings means that I need another employee's help, and three rings means that there is a hot chick in tight yoga pants that he's going to want to see. "Now is the time," I thought and I hit that bell three times.
In a matter of seconds, the supervisor arrived excitedly looking from side to side, trying to spot the camel toe or butt cheeks that he thought I rang him for. Before he caught onto my ruse, I said "This gentleman will help you" and called the next customer.
That's all I have for today. Peace.
All the images in this post are sourced from the free image website unsplash.com.