Once worked at a Safeway, twas fun times to be had.
AAAaaaah teenagers, they think they're clever. *giggle*
So, a gentleman in his early thirties walks up to the register with 3 girls, couldn't have been over 16, and proceeds to place a 36 pack of Bush, and two 40oz. bottles of vodka on the counter.
"Good evening sir. Whoa, looks like you've got quite the evening planned." I say in that tone that tells of good times to be had.
The man looks at me blankly. "huh? Oh, yeah. Uh, no...This is for, uh my roommate."
I give him the, "awe, lame." look when I realise his three "daughters" were black, asian, and too white to be considered related to him. I look at him a moment.
"Sir, you have quite the brood going. These all yours?"
"huh? Oh uh, no. Just the blonde uh-uh..."
She nudges him and in a hushed tone that apparently teenage girls think you can't hear even though you're a foot away from them "Stacy"
"Stacy, that's right." *Devilish laugh, here's where it gets fun, cause now I know fullwell what's going on.*
"Sir, have you been drinking?"
"No sir, clean a sober 6 years running."
"Hey, Stacy, what's you're last name?"
"Fletcher, what the hell does it matter to you?"
"Stacy Fletcher, that's a pretty name. Anyway, I'll just need to see your I.D. sir."
"oh, uh, yeah."
He goes to pull out his I.D.
"So, how long you been married sir?"
"Me?" he hands me the I.D. "Never married."
"Oh," as I look over the I.D, "Is Stacy adopted?"
"No sir. She's my progieny through and through."
"Yes sir Mr. Erickson she looks just like you.....Not really. I need to inform you that purchasing alchohol for minors is a felony in this state."
Face goes pale. "What're you talking about?"
"Well, you say she's yours, but you don't even have the same last name. And we reserve the right to refuse to sell alchohol to anyone we suspect to be drunk, underage, or intends to give to minors. It's a felony and you could get up to ten years in prison."
The man backs up. "You're on your own kids, I'm keepin' the fifty though." And walks off.
So, I begin to chuckle to myself when the two girls blow up at me. You know, with that, 'little miss thang' tone, and their, "huh-uh, no you didn't just". And as they begin to yammer angrily at me, I seem to get taller, and much more menacing looking then I was before. So, they shrink and tone their voices down. The manager walks by to add some change to my till.
"Hey, we want to talk to your manager!"
"Hey, Roy, you wanna talk to these girls?"
"I don' wanna talk to 'em. You do it."
We laugh.
One of the girls comments, "Damnit, I live ontop of the hill and I don't wanna walk up John Carlson. He was our ride... Hey, you, Ray or whatever your name was, I demand you give us a ride for the way we've been treated!" *John Carlson is a hill with no more than a 35 degree incline RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET.
Roy looks at them, then looks at me, and winks.
"Well, I personally can't do it, but I will be more than happy to send *name withheald* here to take you three home."
"Roy," I say in a pleading tone, "I haven't had a breakthrough with my psychologist yet."
"Oh, you'll be okay."
"But, I'm weak sir, I've had the urges all day."
Black girls chimes in.
"Boy, you ain't gonna kill us quit playing and let's go, sheeeeit."
We both look at her with horrific stares.
"He's.....He wouldn't kill you..."
"Sir, please, if I have to go back to the prison they'll eat me alive. I don't want to rape again. If I have to drive them I won't be ale to control it!"
Their faces turned white as chalk.
"That last girl," I begin to sob and claw at my face, "I can still hear her screams! I didn't want her to die! But I couldn't control myself." Here my voice dropped to a purposeflly audible whisper. "I didn't mean to rape her to death." and I start crying.
They BOOKED! They were gone quicker then you can say, "Say what?"
And then we bust up laughing.
). I get so many morons that I joke with a friend that I could go crazy one day, plant a turret on the roof, shoot at all the cars coming in, one would slip by and not be able to figure out the cash button (You know, like it says on the sign with the pictures), and come up to the box, stepping over bodies asking for help. They are dumb beyond belief, and I wish they would stop trying to run me over when I'm changing the prices... It wont make the prices lower.... Ever. And when the pump's screen says "Begin Fueling", you'd think that that would be the easy part, but no... I still get dumb ass fools who can't figure that two word instruction out. Seriously.
