Yes. It is time for another "entitled yuppie" post - with a dash of "women of a certain age" thrown in for good measure. The stereotypes are flying fast and furious - and I wasn't even behind the counter!
After 10 p.m. every night, the supervisors at our store take a buggy with a two-part safe built into it around to all the "outlying" registers - namely Vision Center, Garden, Jewelry, Electronics, Sporting Goods, TLE, Photo Lab and Connection Center - and "close" and "reset" those registers.
This process consists of taking all the day's cash, checks, credit card receipts, etc., out of the register and putting a NEW pack of singles, fives, tens and a round of change in the register. Wal-Mart uses blue bag about three inches by twelve inches with the zipper down the long side to hold the money. There's a number on each bag to correspond with the specific register number - i.e. - Vision Center is Register #98, Sporting Goods is Register #77.
Anyway. This is a two-person process - not because it requires two people - but because Wal-Mart rules require that any cash-handling (other than routine change orders) taking place on the sales floor be carried out by two associates - one to perform the task - and another to verify that no hanky-panky takes place.
The point of all this is that while I'm "guarding the money" out near our Garden Center registers while our overnight supervisor takes out the cash and checks, I look up and a middle-aged white woman is banging on the outside door. Black pants suit, heels, expensive blonde pageboy. Attitude that needed an adjustment.
Our Garden Center doors are locked at 9:30 p.m. for security reasons - mainly because we don't have the staff to stop people just walking out with tons o'stuff.
The doors are locked. There WAS a line of buggies pushed across the outside of the door and there are three trash cans pulled across the inside. The "magic eye" sensor shuts off once the lock is moved into LOCK position. It ain't gonna open.
But she's banging on the doors and pointing at me and then pointing into the store.
I move my arms in a back-and-forth "NO" motion. She doesn't like that.
She points at her watch. Then she motions to the doors and mimes squeezing them apart.
Again I do the "NO" motion. She REALLY doesn't like that.
She stomps her foot and throws her hands up in the air with a "Well what am I gonna do now?" look.
I draw a half-circle with my hand and mouth "Drive around." More gesticulating.
Now she mouths the "Please" and motions to the door. Yeah. That's really going to work. Whip out a twenty and we might begin a conversation. Bring the hot gardener and we might be able to arrange a deal. Given the right currency, I've got no morals at all.
I make a key in a lock motion and then shrug my shoulders like I don't have the keys.
She stomps her foot again and climbs back into a Cadillac Escalade and drives off.
If every light in that area of the parking lot is dark, if the door is blocked, if the employees are telling you the door is locked, if the door does not open even if you bang on it, please tell me Buddha, please - WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THIS DOOR IS OPEN?
I hear Petulant Mime is this year's hot new color. Seriously, does anyone need hydrangeas at 10:30 p.m. that badly?