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So whatever decided to take a chunk out of me last night I’m really starting to feel the effects of. Thank you, Mr. Spider. I hope I squished you in my sleep. Whatever it was, spider, ant, mosquito, scorpion… it got me three times; on the bottom of one foot, on the top of another, and on the back of my thigh. When I woke up this morning I had a couple of small white and slightly inflamed bug bites which itched a little, but I thought nothing of it until I tried putting my shoes on. It felt like I was walking on a golf ball and that’s no exaggeration.

By the time I get to work I’m irritated and limping. My “good” leg is starting to cramp up by the second or third hour, and every time I step on my “bad” foot a lightning bolt of pain shoots up my leg.

Two hours in I am sent to relieve another cashier for her fifteen minute break… I get this customer who I would have normally been painfully friendly to in my fake Walmart approved personality. But not today. I wasn’t in the mood. I’m in critical pain. The customer plops an armful of tshirts on my register and I begin to scan them. I roll them into a burrito and proceed to drop them in the nearest bag.

“I don’t want the hangers. You can keep them,” she probably said this in a friendly voice, but I had cotton in my ears when it came to tones and all I could hear was… “Wait! Don’t put those hangers in my bag. I don’t want them. Take them off!”

To which my reply might have been, “Well I don’t want the damn hangers! I don’t want to take them off, either. You’ll get what I give you.” But I figured that would have gotten me fired. So I plop the burrito mass back onto the conveyer belt and proceed to yank the hangers out of each individual tshirt. There must have been at least 15, but it felt more like 100. After I feel no more hard in the mass of plush I then yank each shirt carelessly from the pile, scan it, and wad it up. Did I mention I’m doing this at a super crawl speed?

After her transaction is over (which came to $106 and some change), she hands me $113 and says “Because I want a five back.”

I limp into the direction of my register, pull a 5 out of my drawer (her change was $6 because the b***h can’t count) to which she says… and here’s the real kicker…

“Can I get that in quarters?”

I can feel it! I can feel it!! I can’t hold it back!

I whip my head and glare deeply into her soul and growl, “Really?”

“Yes.” She backs up a little.

“I don’t know if I have it.” I had to bite back the “NO! You want to steal all my quarters, b***h?”

I slowly count out five dollars in quarters. I have three left. I bite my tongue as I pass them one dollar at a time back to her. I love my job. I love my job. I love my jo- paycheck. I love my paycheck. I love my paycheck.

Two customers later…

Salvation! The cashier is back from her break!

Notice how I only took 3 customers in 15 minutes?
I log off the register, tell the cashier “By the way, you’re out of quarters.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, some woman took them all. I ordered you two rolls, but it’s whether or not the manager feels like bringing them.”

And I ran.

After I came back from lunch break I was put back on my favorite register – five.

Two customers into my after-lunch milk-gone-sour mood I get a customer who decides to pile his s**t in mountain formation on my belt. This guy has got some skill, yo. His pile stood taller than me, which isn’t saying much considering I’m the human equivalent of chihuahua. But still, I was admiring his mad skillz. That is, until… he placed a CD down in front of a 50-pack of toilet paper. The camera eyes didn’t catch the CD, so the belt continued to move crushing his toilet paper and all fourteen objects on top of it. One topples off, and lands right next to a two-liter of soda which decides to go for the plunge and commit suicide off my register.

And it went out with a bang.

All over my customer, me, rolled under the next register, and all over that customer.

I stood, staring, with a shocked and confused look on my face. My face read “s**t, now what?” My brain, however, was taking another route.

“THAT WAS ******** AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The other cashier, however, was really prompt. I like her. She takes this job very seriously. She ran to the nearest phone and paged maintenance to my register. I love the maintenance guy. He’s wicked awesome. I got excited when I thought of him showing up at my register, and the look on his face when he says “You again?!”

So I figure I should probably stop staring and actually do something. First thing’s first. I had to get a wet sign in place, close down my register (suh-weet!) and get my customer out. It never even occurred to me to offer to get him another soda.
Janitorial projects must take a while (i.e. extended breaks, trying to go unnoticed) cause it took FOREVER for him to show up. I had most of the soda mopped up by that point. When he finally showed up I think I smiled for the first time today.

“Guess what I did!” I bounced happily.

“You again?!” and that look of pretend disappointment smirked across his face.

Then… I was demoted… to door greeter.

I finally came home, pulled my shoes off and discovered both of my feet are red and swollen. Woot. Just another day at your local friendly Walmart.