AllFreeNovel
Share Us
…but that’s notalwaysthe case. Sometimes things are wonderfully quiet and I can do my job as head of the Juniors department without much interruption. And thanks to the rain that started falling overnight, this is shaping up to be one of those peaceful days.
Bonus: today is Friday, which means my work week will be over when I leave at 4 this afternoon.
Second bonus: it’s payday.
Third bonus: when I looked at my calendar this morning, I was reminded that Rae has a birthday party to go to tomorrow, which will ease the sting of losing a Super Fun Saturday. I also noticed the address is the same as our apartment building’s, which was so puzzling that I called the girl’s mom; I was very sure none of Rae’s classmates live where we do. And I was right, but it turns out their family knows someone who does, and that person helped set up the party so the kids could enjoy the pool for a very affordable price.
So I’m pretty cheerful at work today.
I’m poring over my department’s fall floor plan from the corporate office. It outlines how my merchandise needs to be arranged. Even though our Texas temperatures aren’t anywhere near cool yet, our fall clothes have been coming in for a couple weeks now. I’ve been milking the summer displays for all they’re worth, but I can’t do it any longer; it’s time to start putting those clothes on clearance and showcasing our jackets, sweaters, and long-sleeved shirts.
This kind of thing entertains me, really. I’m good at following directions and making things look neat, so changing fixtures and updating the look of my department is fun. It also always takes a decent amount of time, which somehow makes my shift go by faster, especially when I have two short breaks and a lunch to take.
Today around noon, I’m asked to cover the lunch break of a cashier. Nary a customer comes up to check out until only two minutes remain of Grace’s break. I can tell it’s going to take me longer than that to ring up all the items, because the lady’s cart is overflowing with stuff.
Although I get a mildly unpleasant feeling from her, I try to engage her in small talk because corporate likes for us to take an interest in our customers. But her answers are as stiff and unfriendly as her expression, and it makes me feel even more uncomfortable. I’m relieved when I’m done scanning everything, because she’ll soon be gone and I’ll be back to working alone.
I tell her, “Okay, ma’am, your total is $304.57.”
For the past few minutes, Grace has been folding wadded-up shirts at a nearby table. We trade smiles; she knows I can’t wait to get off this register, and I’m glad she didn’t mess around in the breakroom to delay coming back to work, like a lot of people do.
I look at my customer again and notice she’s swiping a card through the reader. “Oh, is that debit or credit?”
“Credit,” she grumbles.
“May I see your driver’s license with your card, please?”
She rolls her eyes to me and gives me a flat stare. “No, you may not.”
The reply startles me, but after a moment, I let out a short laugh and wave a hand. She thinks I’m making a request. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have phrased it that way. My fault. I actuallyneedyour driver’s license and the card together.” I point at the little sign posted near my register.
“I can read,” she snaps, “but I don’t have my license with me. Therefore, you can’t see it.”
“Oh.” I smile good-naturedly even as I think,Ugh, lady, come on.“Well, do you need to run out to your car and get it? I can wait. It’s no trouble at all.”
Slowly now, like I’m stupid, she says, “It isn’t in my car.I don’t have it with me.Can you just approve my transaction so I can leave?” She holds the card right up to my face. “See right there? See that name? Linda Dianne Busche-Kirkman? That’s me. This is my card. Now let me pay with it.”
I fight the urge to knock her hand out of my face.
As I merely step sideways, I tell her with all the courtesy I can muster, “Ma’am, it may be your card, but I’m afraid our policy won’t—”
“What do you mean, it‘may be’my card?” she asks loudly. “Are you calling me a liar?”
I make a blubbery noise with my lips. “Of course not.”
“Well, you either believe me or you don’t!”
“It’s not about whatI—”
I bite my tongue to keep from over-explaining.
I understand this situation can be inconvenient for people, but wouldn’t it be more inconvenient if Ididn’task and a random card thief got away with spending someone else’s money?
I don’t have time to try to make this lady see reason, so instead I offer, “We can put your stuff on hold if—”
“Just stop right there. I’m not leaving and coming back.” She scoffs. “So, what, I really can’t buy my stuff just because I don’t have my driver’s license on me? I left it at home! I was in a rush when I left and I just don’t have it with me!”
I shake my head and repeat, “I’m sorry.”
