The subject of today's very much fun and oh-so-enlightening little entry will be coupons. Because, you know, there is nothing more dangerous than mixing white trash, tiny little print, some flip-flops and a bag of Funyuns.
Add a can of Natural Light, season with Cheetos and garnish with Cheez-Whiz and a Pringle. Serves 6.
The genius computerized scheduling system left us with seven cashiers after 5 p.m. on a Saturday night. When I got back from my lunch one of the managers asked me to jump on Register 2 to help get the lines down. It was INSANE. There were like 9-10 people in every line - don't these people got places to BE on a Saturday night? The club, the American Legion, they house, I dunno. Somewhere. Anywhere else but here. I know I'm not up in Wal-Mart because I want to be!
I don't mind Register 2, because it's a speedy checkout - and people are usually pretty good about not coming through there with $400 orders with a ton of produce.
Anyway. The third customer I get is this ancient and withered crone who thanks me for opening up another register. She is so effusive in her praise that I feel almost embarrassed for the store for being so stupid about the schedule.
About 20 minutes later, I get a woman who resembles what Britney Spears is going to look like in about three years if she continues down her current road to ruin. She's wearing an ancient printed T-shirt - so faded I can't even make out what it says - something about beer - complete with more holes than Swiss cheese. Cutoffs, of course. And dirty green flip-flops. (These I see later when she stomps away from the register.) Her dirty blonde hair also just plain dirty. And greasy. Ears pierced four times each. Cheap gold rings on nearly every finger.
She's smacking gum as if her life depended on it. Hubba Bubba, more than one piece, from the looks and smell of it. How the person on the other end of that cell phone she had jammed in her ear could understand her I'll never know.
I finish bagging up an old man's loaf of bread and three bananas. (For this he probably stood in line a good ten minutes. Old people - get a clue - do NOT go shopping on Saturday nights. I don't UNDERSTAND the need to recreational shop at a time WHEN YOU KNOW THE STORE IS GOING TO BE BUSY AND THEN YOU COMPLAIN ABOUT THE LINES!)
I turn to greet GumSlinger. She doesn't answer, but throws a big box of diapers up on the counter and moves down by the bag rack. She continues on the phone. Somebody effed up somebody else's truck and somebody gonna pay for it or she's gonna eff them up.
I run it the diapers over my scanner. GumSlinger is still on the phone and the woman behind her is putting bananas on the counter.
I hit total and swing the screen toward the woman and tap it. That's what she owes me. She's still yakking on the phone and has not responded to anything I've said. Effing deputy tried to take her cousin to jail because he didn't have a valid license.
She sees the total, shakes a finger and her head at me and whips a coupon out of a pocket and thrusts a grubby paw in my direction. Apparently, she's gonna have to 'throw down' with someone over something to get this truck fixed. And there's gonna be a party at somebody's house tonight. She need to go somewhere and get some beer after she's done at Wal-Mart.
The coupon from Huggies and can be redeemed for a free box of diapers - I just have to scan the coupon and take off the price of the diapers - in this case $24.99. I also have to write down the amount of the product on the coupon, so we can get reimbursed from Huggies.
While I'm doing this, I see her move to grab the Diapers and start to leave. Predictably, she's still on the phone. Hold up!
ME: "Ma'am. You still need to pay me $1.50." Now she gets off the phone. I actually hear her say "I'll call you back. Wal-Mart trying to act a fool up in here."
HER: "These is free."
ME: "Yes ma'am. They are free. You need to pay the tax."
HER: "That means they're not free." Lord. I must have run over a kitten or something to have deserved this. Working on a register AND getting the stupids.
ME: "Ma'am. The diapers cost $24.99. You get the box of diapers free but you have to pay the tax on the diapers."
HER: "I ain't gotta pay that. The coupon say free. So they is free."
ME: "No ma'am. It does not say that you can walk into a store and grab a box of diapers and walk out. The product is free but you still have to pay tax. I need a dollar and fifty cents or I need those diapers back." The woman waiting to check out is watching all this with a certain amount of morbid fascination.
HER: "I don't got it."
ME: "You don't got what?"
HER: "I don't got no money."
ME: "Okay. I need that box of diapers back then. Do you have some money in the car maybe?"
ME: "OK. I need you to leave that here."
HER: "My baby need some diapers." No. Your baby needs Social Services to pay a house call.
ME: "You can come back later tonight when you got some money."
HER: "Can't I brang sum money back later?" OH HELL NO!
ME: "No ma'am. I can't give you stuff for free."
HER: "You betta gimme my coupon back. It say free. This ain't free. I'ma go sumwhar else."
ME: "Here's your coupon ma'am."
She leaves and I see her pull the phone out and start yelling into it again."Wal-Mart won't let me get no free diapers."
Good luck finding somewhere that's going to let you get "free" diapers lady.
"CSM TO REGISTER 2 FOR A VOID PLEASE. CSM TO REGISTER 2 FOR A VOID PLEASE."