You can call me 12ItemsOrLess because I used to be a grocery slave and was almost always chained to the express lane.
I wasn't ever one of the 'popular girls' in high school but I wasn't a wallflower either. Most people in my class knew me by sight if not by name. Well, one day I'm slaving away at my store, which is only four blocks from the school, when one of the BMOCs (Big Man On Campus) and his posse show up in my lane.
"Hey, you go to <name of school>, right?" He asked me.
"Yes." I respond as I scanned his friends' purchases. Knowing he is a Big Man On Campus I suppose I was meant to be impressed he was even speaking to me. I wasn't.
"And your name's 12ItemsOrLess?"
"Would you sell us alcohol?"
Seriously?! Let's just suppose I was swooning over the fact that he knew my name; the managers' station was literally three feet behind me. Any one of the four managers on duty could have looked over my shoulder and seen exactly what I was doing.
Right after they leave my lane, one of the managers (I'll call him MacStoic), comes up to me and asks if I knew them and what they wanted.
"They go to my school, and they wanted me to sell them alcohol." I told him.
"What did you say?"
MacStoic just nods and walks away. Not two minutes later he's chasing them out of the store. They'd tried to steal what I wouldn't sell them. I never saw any of them in my store again.
And one more story about MacStoic because he was one of my favorite managers.
One very slow day he came out of the managers station and leaned against the half wall separating it from the rest of the store while I'm working the express lane and said, in a complete deadpan, "So a three-legged dog walks into a bar and says, 'I'm looking for the man who shot my paw.'."
I couldn't help but stare at him slack-jawed until I think he got nervous and walked away. I was too stunned to even think straight. He'd actually told a joke.