Unlike my new counterpart, who works in an American version of the office, which I guess was relevant to a bunch of people in the 80s, I work in an industry that most people have been in at some time in their life, and now I’m paying my dues. The service industry. More specifically, in retail.
~~~I’m working at the front register. A woman comes up to it. She’s older. Late 50s, early 60s, gray hairs showing, but not much, all done quite nicely with a bit of a curl at the end. She’s wearing altogether too much make-up and a very nice black tweed jacket with a bright pink pin on the lapel saying “cancer sucks.” She sets on the counter a can of Ragu, a fashion magazine, and a reloadable Greendot card. She then said “Can I also get a carton of Marlboro Light 100s?” I, ignoring the fact that no cigarette has been called “Light” in awhile, grab the Gold Box carton and add it to the counter and begin ringing her up. I get to the Greendot card and ask how much she’ll be putting on it. She tells me “550 dollars” and I punch it in. I give her her total and she says “Let me use my Bridge Card for the sauce.” And swipes it. I tell her her remaining total and she hands my 600-something dollars in cash.~~~
With that many contradictions, she must be so darn cool to pull it off!
If only I could be like that.
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