Many people think that cashiers are some kind of subhuman race here soley for their service, devoid of any emotion. People are quick to assume that because I am scanning their groceries, I am mildly retarded and will be spending the rest of my life here in the gracious arms of Shoprite. No.

People expect me to know the price of everything in the store. They also expect me to know where everything is. I stand around all day at my register in one position, how would I possibly know where cod liver oil is? People think I do nothing all day. Try standing on your feet for three hours at a time and having to memorize 400 codes for produce items, and listening to people's bullshit and having to call for change when the store is really busy and then having people get annoyed at you even though it's not your fault. Some people are extravagantly lazy. I just love when they stand there and watch me bag all 800 of their purchased items, and then when I hand the bags back to them, they complain about how something is bagged and take their stuff out and put it in the desired order. Fuck you. If you don't like how I bag, then do it yourself. There is also a machine at each register that the customers use for credit and debit cards. It's really very simple. The machine tells you what to do, and you do it. Yet, the number of people who stand there and viciously swipe their card through the machine, when the screen CLEARLY says "Please select tender" is pathetic. Usually old people are victims to this, because they can't accept modern technology and most of them are blind.

There's always someone who asks me to make bags for them so they can bag. Don't you think it would facilitate the process if you bagged while I scanned? Is it so much trouble to put a paper bag inside of a plastic one? People are lazy.

Then there is my favorite: The Child Who Doesn't Get What He Wants. I was privy to this flagrant display last night when I was working. A mother came on my line with two children. The boy looked like he was 10 or 11, and he really wanted this plastic watergun, and his mother, being the strong, unwavering kickass mother that she is, told him no. Everytime the word "no" escaped from her lips you could see it was pushing him more and more over the egde, and finally he broke out into tears. I've never seen a boy that old cry about something like that. If he was 2 I could understand, but this kid was practically my sister's age, and she is in middle school. His beady little eyes swelled with tears, and innumberable pleas began tumbling out of his face. "Please mom, I'll do anything! I'll pay you back! Please I swear! I swear! Please mom! Mom!" This carried on for quite some time. What a liar this kid was. Pay her back? With what money? You don't have a job, you leech. All you do is consume. You'll do anything. Sure. Would you stick a hornet up your ass? Probably not. I commend the mother here. She kept telling him no and that everyone was laughing at him, to which he responded, "Let them laugh!" I was trying really, really hard not to crack a smile. Then the sister asked for a quarter so she could stuff her face with a gumball, and to this the mother hissed "no" as well. It was great. Then the kid tried to pull the whole sympathy spiel by sitting on a bench and crossing his arms and plastering a feel-bad-for-me-because-my-life-is-horrible look on his face so that his mother would turn around and get this warm, sympathetic look in her eye and say. "Yes Tommy, you can have that toy, you're such a gift from God!" It gave me great pleasure when she handed the watergun to me and said,"We don't want this." Denied.

Another memorable customer was a young woman who came in with her small child. She was very polite and all was well until she reached for her credit card to pay for her order. She thought it was a debit card, not a credit. When you swipe a debit, it asks for a PIN, and when you enter a credit it doesn't. So she put the card through and when it asked for a PIN she started to flip a shit. I mean, she really flipped a shit. I've never seen someone transform from a tranquil woman to a spitting, hissing beast in such a short time. "But I used it this morning at the gas station! I didn't need a PIN! I don't have one! Fuck, I have to write a check, I don't have any money, I don't understand, I just used it! Why is it asking for a PIN! Fuck!" To this I just stood there. It's not my problem she can't keep track of her affairs. I'm not a bank. I don't know her PIN. So why is she yelling at me? She's the one who's a fucking moron. Finally, I told her to do it over and choose credit, which she did and which worked. Thanks to me, I solved her problem, and did she apologize for her verbal abuse? No. Instead, she became the caring, remorseful mother again and apologized to the person behind her who had to wait. Nevermind the fact that she completely just spewed her toxic venom all over me for something that was 100% her fault. Then she just walked out like I had wronged her in some way and I should sit in a corner and think about what I did. Stupid bitch.