Well call me impressed

It was somewhat early in my shift.

An older gentleman with a distinct southern twang in his speech came into the store. I began my usual friendly greeting and he returned it.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee (so lucky I had just made a fresh pot) he looked up and asked me specifically what my first name was. He was too far away from the counter to see my "Batman" name tag and wasn't trying to read it. He asked me directly.

I told him of course, and he replied by sharing his. He then bought his coffee and I gave him my usual farewell sendoff, "Have a good night sir." He stopped in his tracks, turned around and said "Call me (his name here). We have first names, I say we use them."

This made me smile and I said, "Absolutely, have a good night (his name here)."

I know nothing else about this guy. I know his name, and I know there is southern twang in his speech. And the lasting impact he made on me just with that little hospitality impressed me very much.

It's the kind of interaction I strive to have with customers on a daily basis. It's the kind of person I work to be.

It was inspiring, it was encouraging. And it was the most interesting encounter of the night.

Next shift is tonight.

45 minutes in favor of sobriety.

Working last night was pretty slow. There were steady customers throughout the night as per usual.

It was about 2:45 a.m. when the first pair of drunks wandered in. What followed felt like at least a half hour continual stream of drunk customers. Where did they all come from? How many were there? Why did they all come to my store? What are you trying to say?

I had the whole gambit of scenarios tonight. I had immature guys talking loudly in all corners of the store. I had a lady crying because she found out her ex was with another woman and it was their anniversary...even though they're broken up. I had to listen to 10 minutes of two drunk women, one older, complaining about men.

I had guys who griped about the price of cigarettes. I had ladies who wanted me to mark down the krispy kreme donuts because they were almost 24 hours old. They taste fine at that time by the way.

It just seemed like a never-ending stream and I didn't know what to expect. The hour that it happened in was more then enough to reaffirm and demonstrate why you shouldn't get drunk. It would make a great practical example.

I kept the phone close and wondered how much police officers could help their budget if they had stopped by my store during that time frame. I never felt unsafe, but it was still nuts.

Next shift is tonight, then I get some time off. Hopefully...

Should have turned left at Alberquerque

Last night was pretty crazy.

The other night guy was there because it was a grocery delivery night. We work every Tuesday and Friday night together putting the delivery away. If I'm the "Speedway Batman" then he is the "Speedway Wolverine." Halfway through the shift we got a phone call from the other store that is just down the road. After some quick collaboration we found out that we had their delivery, and they had ours.

That is not what tonight's update is about though. Shortly after "Wolverine" arrived a lady walked in the store. She proceeded immediately over to "Wolverine's" register and started to ask him about directions.

The short version is that as we understood it, she was trying to get from Chicago to Bad Axe. She got lost because country highways were not lighted like they were in Chicago. She couldn't get back on the highway because it was closed off due to an accident, the 2nd one of the day.

She was confused, thought she was lost, was sleepy, and could not comprehend the concept that Mapquest did not give her good directions.

This is something I don't get. I understand that I've grown up around Lansing my whole life, so the 96/69/94 highway confusion is non-existent to me. I understand that it messes up tons of people who aren't from the area. What I don't get is that they refuse to believe Mapquest might be inaccurate.

"Wolverine" continued to discuss and borderline argue with this lady for the better part of 45 minutes, maybe even an hour. He was trying to explain where she was in her mapquest steps and how to get back "on course." He had to explain to her that she was in DeWitt and not Grand Rapids, and she didn't believe him. When he took her over to our map of Michigan and showed her where Bad Axe was, she said that the map was wrong and said she wanted to go to Bad Axe, pointing to Saginaw. When "Wolverine" would explain that she was pointing to Saginaw, she'd argue that she didn't want to go there and she wanted to go to Bad Axe. So he'd point and tell her where Bad Axe was, to which she'd point again at Saginaw while saying she wanted to go to Bad Axe.

She then went out to her car and took a nap. Every other hour she'd come back in to use the restroom. Then when she was finally ready to leave again, she bought some Red Bull then called "Wolverine" back up to the counter, "discussed" directions with him for 10 more minutes before finally leaving.

All the while we are working through a fairly busy night customer wise and trying to put away the wrong delivery order because we did not know it was the wrong one.

Drill this into your head. MAPQUEST ISN'T ALWAYS RIGHT. USE COMMON SENSE.

Next shift is tonight. Should be interesting with the late MSU game.

Women Have Priorities

I'm working last night, and it is a little after midnight.

A car pulls up and a young lady gets out. She has to be around my age, and I'm not going to lie, she's somewhat attractive. She's dressed up, but not "club" dressed up, more of a formal outfit that you'd wear to a wedding or something.

She comes in and she is talkative, friendly and giddy with excitement. She pre-pays her gasoline and when I ask her if she has a Speedy card the source of the excitement comes out. She has just been at some seminar that she seems to have really enjoyed, and one of the speakers went on a 30+ minute rant about his Speedy Card, so now she has to have one.

I get that set up for her and she spends lots of time talking to someone else who was apparently from the same seminar.

He goes to the bathroom and she actually waits for him for about 2-3 minutes, before she realizes she needs to go pump her gas that she pre-paid.

Next thing I hear is the buzzer for the door, indicating it has opened again. I make my way back to the counter and find the young lady standing at the counter again. This is exactly what she says:

"I hope I'm not a bother, but I really want to give you more information from this seminar I was just at. Do you have an e-mail you can write down or a phone number? This stuff will change your life!"

Now we all know that I enjoy my life of bachelorhood, but that doesn't mean I can't detect a clever line when it's given. I politely reply sure and write down for her a junk e-mail account that I have, just in case she's only intending to sign me up for a newsletter e-mail. She says thanks and walks back out to her car.

At this point I notice something on my register. I look down and realize she didn't pump all of her gas, which usually means she pre-paid too much and filled up her gas tank. What this means is that I owe her the $7.10 that she didn't pump; that's how a pre-pay works when you don't use all of it.

She's at her car (talking to the old man from the seminar again) and before she can get into her car I get on our pump intercom and say "Excuse me miss, did you want your fuel refund?"

She simply replies "No Thanks." She then got in her car and drove off, leaving me with $7.00 that I can't keep in my register.

I'm not sure on exact store procedures when people leave behind money. In fact the only thing I'm certain of is that I don't get to keep it. So I process the pre-pay refund, print up a receipt, paper-clip it all together and put in on our store manager's desk. Along with it I leave a note that says "She wanted my number, not her money. I'm not joking." I sign my initials to it and carry on with my night.

Yes, this really happened.

Next shift is Tuesday night.

Every Person Has Their Price...

Early on in the night I had a gentleman stop in the store. Like some customers he was on a cell phone.

It is not uncommon for a person to walk into our store on their cell phone. Also on some rare occasions people have walked into our store while on a cell phone arguing with their significant other. I obviously hear only half the conversation going on, and this is what I heard during this particular one. Today I shall use punctuation to demonstrate the pauses that could only be the other person talking.

"Hey Baby, what you doin?"
...
"So you still mad at me?"
...
"You mad at the things I said?"
...
"Look I'm sorry I said those things. I was just mad and in the moment"
...
"So you're still mad about that?"
...
"You going to hold it against me?"
...
"So you're still going to hold it against me?"
...
"You can't just forgive me?"
...
"I have tequila."
...
"Yeah, it's pretty good."
...
"Well what do you drink?"
...
"I have that too. I'll come over."
...
"Why you going to bed so early? It's the weekend."

At this point he was walking out the door so I did not have the pleasure of hearing the rest of the conversation. I'm not writing to say that it was write or wrong, nor am I commenting on whether the consumption of various types of alcohol should be used as leverage in an argument between a couple. It was the most interesting encounter of the night and thus worthy of an immortal retelling in my blog. It helps to end a cold streak of numerous forgettable encounters with customers.

Next Shift is uncertain. Away for other commitments for a week. Hope this one holds you over. If it doesn't, I have tequila.

"Tran"-scending normal behavior...

It finally happened.

I was working the grocery shift with the other night guy, and a customer came in. She was an old lady who went right for the restroom. However, she wasn't an old lady if you catch my drift...

My co-worker claimed fraud immediately. I said I'd have to get a better look before I weighed in.

I took a long enough look when s"he" came out. The broad shoulders that towered above me while still slumped were enough to tell me not to look any longer. I didn't want to be obvious after all.

My co-worker got the pleasure of working his/her purchase at the register. He got a fool-proof analysis. From the hairy arms and chest, the deep voice and the mullet-wig, this old lady truly made you want to say, "Woah man, what are you doing?"

He might not Twitter but he sure can Tweet!

I have a regular customer who I probably see once a week.

Today we'll call him Bob in the name of confidentiality.

Bob is unique. He's kind of a crazy older guy with a distinct uniqueness about him. He has a parakeet that is always on his shoulder when he comes in. The parakeet cannot fly but that doesn't stop him from being the center of attention every time he comes in.

In the winter time the bird will wait until Bob is in the store to proudly emerge from the inside of his coat, ready to announce his presence to the world.

Just a few weeks ago Bob and the parakeet came in the store while some local High school girls were grabbing soda drinks after their big Winter formal. The parakeet starts hooping and hollering and they immediately go gaga for it. It starts horse-playing, jumping on the back of Bob's hooded sweatshirt so that he can't reach for him. Naturally, Bob just decides to walk back out into the windy outdoors. At this point the parakeet makes a mad dash around Bob's hoodie and back into the warmth of his jacket. This is typical behavior for the bird. He showboats whenever he is in the store.

This morning is no different. Bob enters the store and almost immediately the Parakeet is out. Noticing no one in the store he still starts to chirp and sing.

As Bob gets his purchases the bird is still chirping. When Bob comes up to the counter I start to ring up his purchases, it is then that I notice the parakeet keeps looking right at me before chirping.

Finally I make light of it by looking right at the parakeet and saying "You're absolutely right. I didn't say hello and I'm sorry. Hello!" Bob chuckles and much to the amazement of both of us, the parakeet stops chirping.

It was as if he was waiting for me to acknowledge him. He proceeded to climb around Bob a little bit, then it was time for them to go.

It was a pleasant distraction from an overwhelming evening. I seem to have an understanding with animals.

Next shift is tonight.