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     It’s the same Sunday, only earlier. Some teenager gets into another cashier’s line and asks for cigarettes. She asks for his I.D, and he says that I know him. The cashier asks me if I know him, and while he looks somewhat familiar, I can’t be sure. He tries to back himself up by repeatedly saying, “C’mon man! You know me! I’m in here, like, all the time! I’m the only guy who buys Newport 100’s in a box.” Yes, because no one else in our area buys those cigarettes. He gets pissed off and says, “I hate this stupid-ass policy! Fine! I’ll get my I.D. and come back in a little bit.” And guess what? He never did come back.

Tale 27: I Love the Smell of Retail in the Morning

     Let me tell you something:  when you work in retail, you smell things no person should ever be subjected to. You think the old lady with forty gallons of perfume on in front of you in line is bad? You have no idea how many times old ladies come in stores. Your eyes will burn, and in some cases, you'll sneeze until your lungs hop out of your throat and run out the door. But no, perfume isn't the worst part of this. It's the people who smell like they've never bathed in their life. Take this customer for example: a big, kinda-fat guy who, for some reason, has fold-like dents in the back of his head. The smell is like someone shoving your head in their shit-covered armpit which also serves as a summer-home for skunks. And he stops in nearly everyday, often more than once. Oh, and it lingers. For five minutes. Seriously. I've had customers come into my line long after the guy left, thinking that it's me with the odor of death. We've since taken to spraying air freshener after he leaves, leaving an odd combination of flowers and feces.

     Oh, and let's not forgot this next lady. The day before I met her, the cashier from the above story told me about this lady in her line that smelled like she peed herself. The next day, I was suddenly reminded of this as she got in my line. The smell. Oh dear god, the smell. It was like she peed herself, had a cat pee on her, waited a few days, ran the New York City marathon, then came to our store. It was the worst thing I've ever smelled. It burns itself into your mind, leaving you to recall it from memory at any time. It was just that bad. Geez, don't these people smell themselves?

Tale 28: Reading Takes Too Much Effort!

     Yes, I'm complaining about people not reading again. Our Mountain Dew is on sale, and none of the other Pepsi products. Our Mountain Dew is in the same display as the Pepsi, and there's a big sign saying: Mountain Dew: $.99, and, in a slightly smaller size, Other Pepsi Product: $1.69 (or something to that effect). Well, a guy comes up with six two-liters of Pepsi, and two two-liters of Mountain Dew. I ring them up, and give him his total. He wonders why it's more than he thought it would be, and I tell him that only the Mountain Dew is on sale. I even get out a flyer and show him this. Well, he thinks that it's wrong, so he goes back to the Pepsi to take a look at the sign. Five minutes later, and he returns. He admits that he was wrong (gasp!), but says that the sign is misleading. I ask him why, and he says that it's because there's too much to read on the sign, and that there shouldn't be small print. He says that he shouldn't have to read the whole sign, because it takes too long to figure out what's on sale, and what's not. Idiot.

Tale 29: Wait, wait, wait. You Have to Work at WORK? OH MY GOD!

     This is the story of T.J., someone who I believe holds the record for shortest time working at DDM. He barely reached two weeks. The cashier above and I trained him, and he seemed okay. He did his job well. Then, he had to work without a trainer. On this first day, he would talk on his cell-phone at his register, telling customers to "hold on a second." He'd also play games on his cell-phone at his register. I have a Superball at work that I bounce every now and then when the store gets really slow. T.J. kept begging me to let him see it so he could play catch with us...while customers were in our lines. He'd also disappear from his register without telling us. He was clear over at the video section for twenty minutes that night. He also took an entire stack of baskets from the entrance and brought them to his register so he could sit down. He ate and drank at his register. He showed up without the right clothes on. He broke nearly every rule in the book. He kept saying how much he hated the job and the fact that he had to do work. The bosses kept giving him warnings, but he continued on his way. Needless to say, he was fired, though he denies it and says that he quit...

Tale 30: Bring Your Money WITH YOU

     It's a Sunday. A particularly idiot-filled Sunday. You know the kind. A lady comes up to my register and puts her basket on the counter. She starts unloading her stuff. While I reach for an item to scan, she asks, "before you ring me up, do you guys take checks?" I tell her that we do, and we just need her driver's license to verify it. She then says, "okay. Let me run home and get my checkbook." Then she leaves with her empty basket and items just sitting on the counter. I hate Sundays.