Gas price: $3.77 for a gallon of Regular.
This last week has been a bitch.
Following behind my Manager and her Daughter three days. Cleaning and stocking the store when it seems like no one else does.
Pricing and stocking a normal-sized beer order -- and getting laughed at when I asked our beer-distributor if he could bring the same-sized order for the Labor Day Weekend.
Running my ass off, as usual. Ain't got much ass left.
The Biker Chick returned to work one last shift -- and was only $36 short on her cash at the end of this one last go-'round.
On Sunday I followed The New Girl, who was worn to a frazzle by the time I got to work -- with the cash register messed-up and gas pumps locked up and alarms going off telling us we were almost out of gas.
But she survived it, and the store was in no worse a shape than I'd expected.
And she was only $5 short. And she was worried she might get fired -- ha! You have to mess up pretty badly to get fired from this place....
And I might have. On Saturday night I suggested that one of our Regulars could help me out if he wiped off his shoes before he came into the store.
And he freaked out!
I'd delicately suggested this before. The guy is a little older than me and works in a pizza parlor, and every night I've worked lately he's been in around 9 to pick up a six-pack on his way home.
And every time he's come in, he's left little white footprints all over our dark rugs on his way back to the beer section. And all the way back up front to the cash register.
This usually happens right after I've just finished vacuuming. Or when the store's really busy. And it makes me look like a lazy slob.
It bugged me.
So I lightly mentioned it a couple times before, and he didn't Get It. Or he laughed at me.
So on Saturday I was more direct. I said it would really help me if he could wipe his shoes on the mat outside the front door before he came in.
And he blew up.
"I've got construction guys coming in my place and wrecking it ALL THE TIME, and I've never said SHIT to THEM because they're CUSTOMERS!" he shouted. "Your Management is gonna hear about how you feel, and you won't be seeing my face again!"
And I was thinking: Maybe if you DID say something to your construction guys, you wouldn't have to come in and buy a six-pack to de-stress when you get home each night.
And: If you know how that feels, why would you do it to someone else? Because it's your turn to dump, because that's what makes the world go 'round?
And: Is it really that big a deal to you? It would take FIVE SECONDS to wipe your feet....
Hey, I've told painters and construction guys to wipe their feet, and they're still coming back....
This isn't just where I work -- it's my home for eight hours a day, and I care about how it looks, and it pisses me off when people trash it or don't clean up after themselves.
Besides, I'm tired of being fed shit by people and being told all I can do is swallow.
If she had been around, my Girlfriend would have joked with me -- as she sometimes does when I need a nudge -- that I was being a Pompous, Arrogant Asshole. And maybe I was.
After he left, the customer behind him told me not to worry about it: "That guy's a prick; I've seen him in other places...."
That helped, and I thanked him. And I didn't even start shaking, like I sometimes do in confrontations with customers.
Maybe it's a good thing I'm on vacation for the next nine days. Though folks generally haven't been terribly behaved or overly demanding during the past week, it was a long week anyway, with lots of people out and about and the busiest Friday and Saturday nights I've had in awhile. And I worked an extra month before taking vacation this year, while store management figured out its personnel issues....
So, was I out of line? You decide. And let me know below....