Let me explain what I mean. When customers are walking through a store they look for one of three things, but never more than one at a time (as multi-tasking is not one of the capabilities of your average shopper): 1) A light above the register; 2) A person at the register; 3) A close sign at the register. Now, while numbers 1 and 2 are good indicators of whether a register is open it confounds me when a customer goes up to a register with no light on and no checker and begins to unload their order onto the belt simply because there is no close sign there. That is like drinking a glass of gasoline. Just because the fucking gas pump doesn't SAY you shouldn't do it doesn't mean it is the smart thing to do. Still, I don't fault these people too much. Rather, I fault the OTHER people.
Often times I will find myself in this situation:
Me: (standing at my register with my light on, having just finished a customer. I see a slack jawed old woman walk up and look around with a cart full of groceries) Hello?
Woman: (She looks around in a confused panic, as if she forgot where she was sometime between coming into this store and coming to the resgister. She may have also taken a shit and is worried about how to hide the stench. Too late. Smelled it. She looks at the light that is blaring in her face and then looks at me in my uniform.) Ummm are you open?
Me: (I raise an eyebrow and look up to my light and consider this question for the moment. I pause and try to see if I have suddenly become invisible. That would be fucking awesome. I'd be like Patrick Swayze's character from that one movie, you know, Roadhouse...wait...I snap back to reality and look at her. She is giving me a blank stare. Good lord. The hamster in her head must have had its heart explode. Complete Tabula Rasa. I slow my speech down to make sure they understand what is going on. No one could be so stupid as to not realize when a checker who is standing at his register with the light is open.) Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssss Maaaaaaaaa'aaaaaaaam
Woman: (Wiping away the dribbling of drool from her snarling maul, her moustache gating her leathery skin.) Oh. I didn't know. That sign was misleading.
Me: (I look down at the register and see the fold down barrier that pushes the items towards the scanner. I look up to her and blink once. Twice. Thrice. Good lord.) Ma'am....There....there are no words on that. That isn't a sign. There is no way that could be misleading. You are an incredibly stupid persona and I hope you burn in that small portion of hell reserved for those too stupid to comprehend pain.
Woman: Why thank you! You are so kind.
Me: Please die.
Then I check them out and cry a little at the funeral service for the part of my soul that just died. Often times customers won't even get to my register before they ask that question, meeting me at a register I am cleaning. A forgivable mistake....kinda.
What is worse than this? The customers that come to the store and ask when we close. You see, I have worked more closing shifts than anyone at Purgatorio and the first thing I hear from many customers is this: "How late are you guys open?" Why is this stupid? Because the fucking store times are right on the door. Why is this an issue? Because every business in the United States of America has their business hours posted on the door. I have never gone to a business without the hours on the door. It is a simple issue of stopping at the door, reading the sign, and moving on.
What do they do? They lumber in, creating earthquakes that could crack pangea with their fat steps, push through the door, and ask the moment they see a living person "How later are you open?"
I know people hate to read, but this extent is a literal demonstration of illiteracy. Fucking insanity.
But that is a little bit of my life in Purgatorio. I may post more exerpts from my adventures and experiences soon. For now, good day.
