4th of July Hell: Burgers, Beer Brats, and Stupidy

Burgers!  Brats!  Beer!  Stupidity!  

That's what you can expect at your local grocery store for the holidays!

Hellidays always bring out the best of the worst, don't they?  Especially the 4th, which is celebrated in loud, flaming fashion throughout the month of June.  I was walking across the Front End the other day on my way out, when an employee says, "There are some kids out in the parking lot lighting fireworks, and this old man's getting aggravated at them." 

My first thought was, well, why doesn't the old man do something about it?  But I watched as I walked out.

I live in the Midwest, where I could piss about as much rain as we've had in all of June, and there are burn bans all across the state.  There's probably nothing flammable in the parking lot, besides, you know, fucking gas tanks, but I'm in no mood for the store's roof to catch fire.  That shit can only happen when I'm off.  but I digress.

I walked slowly, looking around.  I saw a couple groups of kids, but nobody was doing anything.  After I walked past the first group of two, who had been talking to their mother who was sitting in their van, I heard "POP!"  

I turned around to see a man child (seriously, the kid was almost 6 feet tall but couldn't have been more than 14) slightly hunched over with his back to me and his hands together in front of him.  In short order he throws a single firecracker up for another "POP!"

It's late in the evening, I've been there nine hours, and  I really don't want this to take any longer than it has to, say I say "HEY!  You can't do that here!"

Mungo the Man Child turns around and says, "Oh, sorry."  At this point I'm pleasantly surprised.  Then I look at his hand.  He was lighting the firecrackers with his mother's cigarette.  *Facepalm*  

I sat in the car with the door open for a couple minutes while I sent some texts, then pulled up to the gas station for some go-go juice and didn't hear any more, so problem fortunately solved.

*

My store is currently being remodeled.  Whereas the Deli was along one wall, and the Bakery was located across the aisle, we just opened the new Bakery which connects directly to the Deli.  The new improved Deli/Bakery (which is not complete, despite being open -_- ) has all new cases, all new equipment, all new everything.  What works the way it should?  NOTHING.  The new two level oven?  Nope.  Water in the controls.  The new scales?  Nope.  A short in one that turns it off at random, and none of them print the sale price on labels.  The new freezer?  Well, it freezes, but the refrigeration unit didn't come with a defrost kit.  And all of this just in time for a first of the month holiday.  What could be better?

*

And finally, since we are being remodeled, we have dust.  Lots and lots of dust.  Dust that goes everywhere.  Therefore I have begun to carry a feather duster.  Short of wearing an apron with a pocket or a lanyard, there's not a lot of places in a person's wardrobe to place a feather duster.  So I put it either in my back pocket or in my belt behind me.

My advice: never, ever put a feather duster near your butt.  EVERYBODY has to comment on it.  And not just employees, bonehead customers also think it is funny to tell you that you have a tail or that you can come to their house next.  I'll bet an even half of the employees have said something about it - close to 50 so far.  Why?  I don't go around saying "Nice apron, gonna x-ray somebody?" or "Hey, I think Joe's wearing that same shirt!"  WTactualF people?  It's a feather duster.  Get over it.

*

I guess I can't complain too much though.  Dinner tonight was a ribeye with salt and pepper, pan grilled orange and red pepper with onion, and tater tots.  It smelled like the State Fair.  Without the sweaty carnies.

Stay classy RHU!

--Riferous

Comments

[Durango Deli Slave]

I feel your pain. I too work in a grocery store deli that is under remodel. Out biggest problem is that the floor has been torn up, 2 walls removed, and our ceiling panels are gone, and yep- we're open for business. Never mind that there are holes in the floor that are at random intervals so that workers can twist their ankles in them. Or that the wall they tore out has not been replaced so that the pipes and wires are exposed, same for the ceiling. We wait patiently for the health inspector to arrive and watch his/her head explode.

[trekkiebabe31]

I can totally sympathize with the dusting, at both my old job and my current one I tend to dust when I get bored and I carry around one of the Swiffer dusters. If I had a nickel for every time a custy came up to me and said "Oh, you can go to my house next", I could easily pay off my student loans!

[McScrewYou]

Ah, the 'Can you come to my place next?' question, how I hate thee...

After a while I started answering "Sure! I make $10.50 an hour here- how much will you pay me?"

[NC Tony]

Regarding Mungo the Man Child: As I've said before I have no sympathy for people who injure themselves by doing stupid things with fireworks. Burned the hair off your ass because you were trying to launch a bottle rocket out of your butt cheeks? Ruptured your groin because you had your friend launch a rocket into your nuts? Blew off two of your fingers and gone deaf in one ear because you wanted to see how long you could hold an M80 before it went off? You deserved it. It is possible to have fun with fireworks without having to visit the ER.

[NC Tony]

Oh, and the worst part about remodel (besides the stupid "Can you clean my house next?" comments) is the fact that everything is moving almost literally every day. When I first started at the Bullseye years ago, it was during a remodel, and people were getting mad when departments were relocated seemingly every day as the new sections were being made up, especially when I didn't know where the new temporary sections were. I had literally just clocked in one day when some Hellbeast stormed up to me demanding to know where the toy department was. Last I knew it was near the back of the store (near where the permanent toy department ended up), but had been moved the previous night toward the front (where the jewelry department ended up). I said "Well if it's not back over there (pointed in the general direction of where I remember it being), I'm not sure where it is now." Of course Broom Hilda got mad and accused me of not knowing how to do my job and offering terrible customer service, hopped on her broom and went to find someone who "knew what they're doing". All I could do was mutter "Fuckin' bitch" under my breath and get to work.

[Nobody]

Stupid custy/co-worker: "Will you come to my house next?"

Answer: "Sure! I charge $25/hr and I bill in 1/2 hour increments* for dusting on my own time. Let me know if you're interested and we'll arrange a time for me to come over."

*Or whatever minimum amount you prefer.

Just make sure they know you're only willing to dust - you don't do windows, floors, toilets, etc.

[Creative Slave]

but it's the sweaty carnies that make the state fair so fun!!! corn dogs, funnel cakes and sweat!! mmm mmm mm mm mmmmm.

hehe