I'm a Terrible Person

A while back, this woman would come to the deli counter almost daily and ask us to drain the juice from a rotisserie chicken and wrap it up for her.

Sometimes she would come and just leave the chicken on the counter until we had a chance to wrap it.

It was annoying after a while, but id give anything to have back the days when she DID NOT ever buy cold cuts.

It’s my own fault. It was back in the days of my naivity, when I just tried to do a good job and be nice to customers.

Well, since I was always soooo nice to her and wrapped her motherfucking chickens, one day she asked if I could let her try the coleslaw. She liked it, and made me give her like .70 cents worth.

Then soon after, she started asking me about the cheese in our preslice case. She tried some, liked a certain kind. Then she started asking me when I busy doing something to help her. It didn’t matter that someone else was on the counter, she wanted me to stop what I was doing to help her, because I knew what kind of cheese she liked.

I was nice and did it, though grudgingly. I should have known better.

Soon she progressed to buying more things.

She would come and ask for 1.00 or 1.50 of low salt ham, turkey, and swiss. All sliced super fucking thin. So thin it takes me like 10 minutes just to slice her fucking swiss, because cheese does not really slice that thin.

Aside from the fact that she was already UNBEARABLE, she then started bothering me outside, on MY MOTHERFUCKING BREAKS.

When she arrives, it always at different times. So sometimes, I happen to be on lunch or break and outside smoking. She parks where the smoking section is, so she sees me.

“Oh are you done for the day?” She asks.

“I’m on lunch.” I say, only because I know she’ll see me when I go back in.

“When are you going back?”

“In about fifteen minutes,” I lie, because I really have 27 minutes left.

“Okay ill hurry my shopping so you can help me when you get back.”

She will ALWAYS bother me on my break and ask if I can help her when I get in.

Multiple times she’s come after I’ve clocked out and am just doing paperwork I didn’t have time to do. My deli coat and hat are not on. My purse is next to me. I’m in the back, away from the counter. If she notices me, she tells whoever is there to get me, she wants to talk to me. I always tell her “sorry, can’t help you I’m already clocked out.”

Once, I was literally leaving the deli with my purse over my shoulder and my coat on.

“Oh, are you done for the day?”

“Yup. Bye.”

“You can’t just go back and help me…?”

What??? Are you fucking nuts? Yea okay, on my own time, I will go back, put my hat and coat on, wash my hands, and get you your fucking dollar’s worth of shaved meats. Get the fuck out.

Saturday I was packing things out on the floor. Pricing them, making it look nice. There were TWO people behind the counter, and now customers. She came to me to ask if id be going behind the counter, because she needed cold cuts. “No, I’m too busy.” And walked away.

Today she told me she always has a bad time at the deli unless I help her. Then she kept asking what number I cut everything on. I told her, look, I know you like it thin, it’s thin. Every machine is different, it depends on the meat and how sharp the blade is, it isn’t going to be the same everytime you come. And I was rude again. She still didn’t care. I can’t get rid of her. I fucking hate her worse than I hate Batty.

One of my bosses talked to her one day and found out she is a real estate agent, and does not have any appliances in her kitchen. That’s why she comes every day and buys a little. Um okay, so if you obviously have the money, why not just buy a fucking fridge? You’re still wasting money on gas, dumbass. You can’t be trying to be frugal.

I hope she fucking chokes on the cold cuts one day.

Today before she came, another customer warned me. She described this lady and called her “a rich jew bitch” and said she asked her to move her cart because it was in her way. My nightmare lady gave her a dirty look and said no. So my new favorite customer said she told the lady to “move your mother fucking cart, you bitch.”

I love her. If my paycheck didn’t depend on not being a bitch, id say something of the sort to her, too.

One lovely Sunday morning, I was helping one customer. My manager (with the four Sunday hours they gave her) was trying to fill the deli case with something.

One other woman was on line. Just one. She was next.

Woman: Are you the only one working? I need to get to church I don’t have time to stand here.

But then again, this woman is always a cunt. On a weekday one time, I was asked by a customer to make a sandwich. As I was making it for them, two other people were helping the two customers at the counter. This cunty woman comes over to me and says:

“Are you only making sandwiches? Cause I need some cold cuts.”

Fucking get over yourself. You’re not the only person in the world and you can wait for two goddamn minutes. It’s not like you were even waiting long. You just came up to the counter and demanded instant service. Learn patience. It’s a virtue and they teach you that in church. You would know that if you didn’t go to church for appearences sake only. Fucking bitch.

I really don’t know what gives her such a sense of entitlement. I hope she’s never satisfied during sex, and I hope her fucking husband cheats on her.

Two guys shopping: Excuse me, ma’am.

(Cause I look so fucking old….)

Guy 1: do you know if you carry beer pong balls?

Me: not sure. Check the beer aisle but I don’t think we do.

Guy 1: I need to play some fucking BEER PONG!
Guy 2: YEA MAN!

Sean: Yo, do you know which would be better to get vampire stuff at? Hot topic or spencers?

Today I was on break and saw a customer I hadn’t seen for some time. She used to come in and get her daughter’s lunch meat, so since school let out I hadn’t seen her.

She came to talk to me, because I’m always so nice to her, and eventually got to asking me what I’m interested in, because I seem to have so much personality and come across as a creative individual. She thought I must be an artist or musician.

When I told her I wanted to be a writer, she gave me some encouraging words and told me she feels I have a book in me. Even if its not soon, she just knows ill end up successful.

That was such a nice thing for her to say to me, especially after the shitty day I had had.

Its also a little depressing, because throughout my whole life different people have basically told me they see potential in me, but it seems like there’s no way to get anywhere. Most of my friends are talented in their own ways, but we get stuck in shitty jobs just trying to make it through a day. There’s no time for hopes and dreams. There’s not time to fine tune talent and learn how to use it.

We all come from lower middle class white families and we get punished for it. We’ve grown up next to lazy, loud, piece of shit people who end up getting everything for nothing. We try to apply for food stamps or medicaid or anything at all to save us from homelessness and debt and we get told we have some education so we don’t need help.

We get told the minimum wage jobs we cling to give us too much for us to possibly need help. We live next to people who have six children from different fathers, sit outside all day on their expensive phones, and use their government checks to buy fur coats and crab legs. How could we not become bitter seeing someone doing nothing and receiving more than we have? We exhaust ourselves trying to do good jobs at work and end up in debt, hearing the neighbors complain the government just doesn’t give them quite enough.

How will we ever have time to use our potential when all of our energy and time is used working hard to just stay alive?

Two old ladies come to the counter.

Lady1 – what kind of ham do you have?

Me – boiled ham, virginia, and honey are on sale for 4.99. Low salt ham, peppered, and hot are 5.99. Deitz and watson brand ham is 8.99.

Lady1: what flavors does the Swanson ham have?

Me – the what?

Lady2 – the Swanson ham! You just said you had swanson ham!

Me- uhm…the Deitz and watson ham? There’s boiled, honey, and virginia.

Lady1 – okay give me enough virginia ham for a sandwich. And do you have butterball lite turkey? I want enough for a sandwich.

Me- slicing the ham, then the turkey.

Lady2 – what’s that? Who’s that for? I’m next.

Me- your friend wanted this……

Lady2 – you ordered that? I thought you wanted ham.

I am not a fan of PDA. its not because I’m “jealous” of those with significant others, I just think it’s gross. Even when I have someone, I’m really only comfortable with a limited amount of affection in public.

So seeing this today literally made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

I live on a dead end hill. At the bottom of the hill is a long staircase that turns left at the end. There is a stone wall surrounding the staircase as it leads to the very busy street below.

It is not an invisibility wall. It is not a six foot high wall. It is a small wall. Therefore, when you sit on the stairs, which are on a hill and thus place you ABOVE the wall, I CAN STILL FUCKING SEE YOU.

So I’m walking home from work and I need to get up these stairs. From far away, I see two people sitting there. One, a very fat, pig faced woman, has her legs WIDE OPEN. The other, a small, dark, spanish looking man, is sitting on the step below her, between her legs.

As I walk closer, I can see he is rubbing her leg, and kissing it. Then I see him put one hand up higher, between her legs and under her shorts, as he continues rubbing her leg. Uh, ew.

It definitely looked like she was getting fingered as he caressed her. That’s just plain fucking gross. Its not like it was even a secluded area. It was a highly visible spot to be doing that, and the fact that they were both hideous made it even more disgusting.

Human beings are filthy, disgusting creatures – and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Years ago, my bff Mindsay Mohan and I wrote something on a napkin in the mall to entertain ourselves. We took a picture of the note before mailing it out to someone we knew, just to fuck with them.

She has this photo in her flickr account, and it was recently used in a web article (link below). Unfortunately, the best part of the note was strategically cut out. It once said at the end, “I wanna be on you.” Oh well, at least they used part of our genius.

http://www.wired.co.uk/news/archive/2010-08/12/retargeting-ads-criteo

Sean came out and sat next to me on my lunch. He started talking at me.

Sean: so you ready to give this friendship thing another try to see if we could get closer to a relationship?

I gave him a blank stare.

Sean: yo, you finish that book about me yet with all my quotations? I forgot some of what I said, and I mean I waste it on you I could be using it on chicks and shit. Did I tell you I been shooting pornos? You kinda remind me of a housewife today. Oh I gotta be getting on my journey.

Then he walked to mcdonalds.

I was in an antagonizing mood today, and was being sarcastically upbeat to cutomers all day. At one point I went up to the office to get some paperwork and as I was walking back, this adorable young man was bent over in the candy aisle.

His boxers were very visible and were covered in spades and hearts, clubs and diamonds. Just to be an ass, I walked past him and randomly asked him if he liked poker.

He looked at me weird and goes, “yea, I love poker.”

So I told him I was just wondering, because he looked like a big poker player.

He seemed like he wanted to say something, and started to a few times, then randomly asked if I knew what aisle tablecloths were in. I told him, and he still looked like a deer in headlights or something.

I think I freaked him out… he must have wondered how a complete stranger knew his favorite pastime.

I hope when he takes his pants off later tonight and sees the poker boxers he smacks himself in the head.