Blowin' in the Wind

Today it was mighty nipply in the garden center. The wind picked up, and by wind, I mean, yet again, I'm having visions of Dorothy house landing on top of me. But, being Mother's Day weekend, we're busier than a one legged man at an ass kicking contest.

Which means, of course, that at least one Nut was out without supervision.

A couple comes up with one of the largest carts we supply the money dropping masses, and, of course, the cart is chock full o' stuff. I go about my business--I begin scanning my little heart out. This couple, apparently, are micromanagers from Wayback, because they are not only telling me how many of what, but actually shoving things at me in an almost polite way of directing how the checkout process goes. (And that means I mostly ignore what they're shoving at me, and do it my way. I do that, not out of rudeness, but because I know how my own brain works, and I make fewer mistakes if left to do my job my way. Safer for everyone if y'all'd just get the hell out of my way and let ME be the cashier, donchano.)

While in the midst of doing my job (and ignoring the micromanagers) a woman approaches, shoves past the persons currently in the process, and demands to know if this register is "Open for business."

I tell her, why, "Yes, it is." I continue to scan the micro's merchandise.

She then steps around me to my opposite side, shoving her way between the micromanager man and his cart and says, "So, I can check out now?"

I tell her, in my best almost not sarcastic tone, "When I'm done with this transaction. I'll be with you as soon as I can." I go back to finishing up my counting and scanning for accuracy.

She shoots a nasty look at the micromanagers and says to her escort, in a snippy tone, "It's too cold out here for me! Come get me when she's ready."

As if I told her to "go F* yourself, I'm on the phone" or something.

The micromanagers immediately lighten up, though,and back off, and let me do my job, my way.

Win-Win, if you ask me.

This also leads me to recall the Jackass last weekend, who basically did the same thing. Several registers are already open, and Mr & Mrs Jackass get into my line. The customer in front of him wanted to know how the plant guarantee worked, and he & I were discussing how we could best get him the credit for his dead plants. The entire conversation took less time than most scan, total, & pay transactions, but Mr Jackass interrupts and demands to know "just how much longer are you gonna be? should I move into a different line, or what?"

Wow. Actually, not so much *wow* because he does this every time he's expected to behave like a civilized human being. You know, all that stuff you learned in kindergarten about waiting your turn and treating others nicely...yeah, well, he missed that day. I don't think Mr Jackass has EVER been in our store that he didn't demand that he be helped/checked out/had his ass wiped before anyone else who was there before him. The size of his sense of entitlement is surpassed only by his general jackassedness, and is oppositely proportionate to his ...er, uhm, you know whatis. (I say that because his behavior all-but screams "over compensating-over compensating-over compensating.")

Some day, I'm not gonna need that job, and all hell is, literally, gonna break loose.