So today I got locked in at work and then 5 minutes later I was locked out.

I finished returning items customers decided they didn't want, so then I went to go outside to round up the carts from the parking lot, but WTF the door was locked. So then I went to the other two doors, and they were locked too. So I found my manager and he unlocked one of the doors, and I went outside and started gathering the shopping carts. When I came back, the doors were locked again.

Luckily, I had my phone, so I whipped it out and called the store's number. My friend Dan picked up on the other end.

"Hello, Cromwell XPect?"

"Hey, It's Anthony. I'm locked out."

"Haha, what? I'll be right over to let you in."

So he walked over to the door from the customer service desk (We'd been closed for 20 minutes at this point.) And he started patting his pockets. Then he looked over with a sheepish expression and said "Uh... I don't have the keys. Let me get Kirk."

Kirk is the manager who unlocked the door at first to let me outside.

So, all told, I spent 15 minutes outside waiting to be let in.

Did I mention I was getting paid that whole time? :3

Working on a story with my friend Julie.

It's about a quirky girl named Harriet and her dog, Kipper, and the adventures they get into.

Oh. And Harriet's a serial killer and her dog ends up becoming a zombie that tries to kill her.

Thought I should mention that.

Also, here's a Digchoke.

Not a good start to my day...

So the other day I walked into work, 5 minutes late
(no one cared that I was late, that's when I always show up.)
and got my drawer from the cash office. Then, I walked up front with my drawer.

So I got up front after being stopped a couple times by elderly people asking where some obscure kind of italian pastry was. When I got there, the supervisor tells me to go to register 3. Fair enough, I guess.
(Note, my supervisor is not a cute petite blonde. That's just what I felt like drawing.)

Now I finally get on my register, flip on my light, and announce, "I'll take the next person in line on register 3!"

Soon after, a couple in their mid-30's show up at my register with maybe 7 items.
The first one they hand me is a can of tomato sauce, so I turn on my scanner and ring that puppy.

 

Here we go...

      No beep? That ain't right... Let me try again.

          Come on register...

 

Please just scan for me...

So at this point I'm as infuriated with my uncooperative register as my customers are. Their item clearly has a working barcode, so I tried to scan it with the little scan gun thing. No luck. I could have put in the barcode's number manually...

HA! HAHAHA... Oh man, I actually fooled myself for a second there. Who am I kidding? I'm not that dutiful! So I took the easy way out and asked to be put on a different register. Now, surely, I would be able to get some work done.

Or not? There was no way that TWO registers could be broken, much less the two that they put me on. So I tried a few more times. No luck.
"What do I do now?" I asked my Supervisor. "This one isn't working either."

"No way, that one just got fixed!"

"Clearly the guy who was fixing the registers doesn't know what he's doing."

So she put me on the only working register that wasn't occupied. Register 1.

"That doesn't sound so bad!" you might think. "Register 1? You must feel damn important!"

You'd be wrong.
See that? It's a measurement marker. This register has a counter end that is 2 feet by 2 feet. I am not exaggerating. More than $50 of groceries and I'm out of space. And see those prong thingys? That's the bag-holder. There were no bags on the register when I got there, so I had to keep the customers (The SAME TWO from before) waiting even LONGER while I got bags.

And once that was done? I had to bag as I went. Which wasn't all that bad for the first two customers, but the third lady I rang...



She had a good $80 of just produce. That's like 40 pounds of fruit and vegetables. So it took me about 10 minutes to get her rung all the way through, and bag everything.

She was one of those customers that just stands there and watches the register boy do all the work. Didn't even look like she wanted to help at all. So of course I end up finishing her order, and just when I was done with her, just when I thought the madness was over...

This guy came in with a bag of oranges and paid me with two twenty-dollar bills stuck together. I, of course, assumed that it was one $20 and gave him the according change. Later, he comes back, really pissed off. Apparently I had charged him 22.50 for his bag of oranges, and then he proceeded to make up some bullshit about how my register actually showed $22.50 on the screen, (IT TOTALLY DIDN'T) and I told him I couldn't help him, and he went to customer service with it.

The next day I came in to work and found that the guy was right, my register was over by $20, so we had to call the guy and then he came and got his money. I almost got written up for it.

But yeah, there you have it. A sample of the crap that goes on where I work.

Part 2 of the Theory

I elaborate about black holes.

A theory I thought of not long ago.

America.

Truck

It was a Monday that a
Truck.
(the headlights, I will not forget)
crashed into the driver's side
I know my son, he must have cried
off my shoulders my head flied
and the windsheild it met.

My son, from the back seat.
Screamed.
A scream I would never hear.
Never, ever, this I fear.
No longer do I have an ear.
That part of me is creamed.

The firemen came with jaws of life.
Late.
No hate I feel for them, they tried their best.
They saved my son from the metal nest.
That pierced me roughly through my chest
So I have met my fate.