The A&P

At my first job they took me in the locked room behind the customer service counter. The place of wonder you were never allowed to see before, as a kid. It had that dingy color of things forgotten. All the color schemes are those you wouldn’t have chosen in the last 10 years. Upstairs in the “office” you watched a bizarre VHS safety video and another on how to perform the job. 5 hours, a total shift of videos instead of learning from real people. This was a sign of good things to come.

The doors to the back store room were large and looming. They swung only with a mighty push, the rubber worn in lines from hundreds of trolleys full of product pushing through. “Follow the painted line on the floor to the break room.” Where the boxes of food aren’t so deep the line is covered up. A minefield of things not to knock over, or things someone is looking for.

The break room used to be white. Now it has the din of yellow. Years ago you could probably smoke in this room. I’m sure it was done for years after it was officially allowed too. Smoking is an anxiety habit. Anxiety ran high at a job like this. You’d think since it doesn’t pay more than a minimum wage people would become more relaxed about it.

Don’t want to clock in after the hour and be docked until the 15 minute mark because late it late, even though they have had a digital system for years. It was a computer I’m sure it had the potential to calculate how much you worked to the second. Arguing over pennies? At $6.25 an hour you’re damn skippy you argue over pennies. I’m just kidding, there was no arguing, it was clear in a place like this there was no one to argue with. Managers and Assistant Managers only made a couple more dollars an hour than you, you who started at the minimum, getting them to give a shit is quite the feet.

I remember one time that we got them to give a shit. Everyone working in cash handling should have their own cash drawer. I have had many cash handling jobs in my life at this point. Someone is a lot more likely to admit they made a mistake when it is literally impossible that anyone else did it to them and they have to find that mistake and fix it. They are a lot more likely to suddenly remember and own up to the mistake.

When fixing mistakes at work, time is of the essence. You are an at will hire, thusly making sure if you do fuck up they will just fire you and have someone else watch the VHS tapes and take your place. Not all the new summer hires had made it this far. Some can’t show up on time, or call when something happens in their life that they can’t show up. They see this as not their responsibility because they do not get paid enough to care.

Teenagers only care about themselves by nature, the selfish proud phase. But it quickly becomes the responsibility of all the people who do show up that day and have to work harder because you are short 1 or 2 of the necessary cashiers for the height of summer rushes, thus making everyone at work’s life harder. And making all the entitled shoppers annoyed they may have to wait 15 minutes.

You are RUINING their vacation! Can’t you see?

You stand in a 1.5ft x 1.5ft square box all day and have to treat each new person as if you are still in a good mood. There is nowhere to go and scream or talk about it in between like there is at the hair salon. But obviously you should care about how upset they are they waited 15 minutes. Despite the fact that you will remain in the square for a solid 8 hours if they let you out on time.

I’ve always taken counting money very seriously. It is very easy math for me. Adding and subtracting in patterns. That I got, there is no cosine? Ok, we’re good to go. I count fast. I always wound up in the fast lanes of my cash handling jobs. The drive-thru, the fast last “10 items or less” checkout. I can handle more transactions at a faster rate.

I prefer the benefit of not talking to people for as long but only for a few moments. The moments remain new and even a shitty person will be gone in a moment dependent on how fast you work and if you get it right. I was so good at that. Don’t want to make anyone mad or have to get an override. Jesus, having to tell someone that and helplessly put on your blinking light while you wait for the magic number could be quite similar to hell. Hell is a euphemism for spending your life waiting.

Luckily at this job if they knew you weren’t trying to steal or void shit on purpose for some stupid crazy reason, that will also get you fired. You could memorize the number. Thinking back, maybe that was a secret test. If you remembered every single produce number (there was a 2 sided chart of them) and the override number, you were definitely smart enough to know when you use it.

In a week or so, as soon as school is out you are working 8 hour shifts. That is supposed to be your limit because you are legally still a child but they put you on for 8 hours, or 5 and ask you to stay while you’re there. You always say yes, you have nothing else to do that early in the day, and the people who drive you around don’t mind you still being at work. But you never get out on time, 6:30 at the super market is a zoo in the summer time on “the island” it’s the only way to eat if you are staying for a week or two. It may be an overpriced supermarket but it is better than take out or restaurants every night. Even though it is less money and still full of convenience food and a full of everything you need a modern super market to have. They will bitch about the .15 cent mark up. Oh will they bitch.

One day shit was so busy and crazy that four cashiers worked on one drawer before it was counted. I don’t know who thought up this plan, but after that it became standard practice for the time being. That meant any time a mistake was made, not one but four cashiers had to go on “cash management” a nice euphemism for you fucked up and now we are going to have a bunch of people over your shoulder watching everything you do to make sure you weren’t stealing or learn not to fuck up again.

A few people couldn’t handle all the counting and pressure. They pushed carts in the 100 degree weather on the asphalt. Some kids would prefer that. At least they were outside, they saw the daylight hours even if it was at a parking lot instead of at the beach. It was a parking lot near the beach at least. We had the blinds; working without the blinds was hell! It literally felt like the sun would burn you alive as you bagged shit in disposable plastic bags in your tiny little box, full of money, a water bottle, but don’t drink too much, no extra “non break related” bathroom trips.

Four cashiers including an assistant manager were on cash management. This was very inconvenient for everyone. Until the day that I came in and was told that the drawer I had worked on the previous day was $286 short in cash. Now I was really upset. That was way more money back then even. I was only making $5-something an hour after taxes. I knew I didn’t lose money or miscount $286! But that doesn’t matter, they don’t know which one of us fucked up but one was me, one was a manager, and one was a kid who wound up after we all counted all the time doing carts for the summer. I think we all knew who probably fucked up but as far as “corporate” was concerned, I love the euphemisms of capitalist America, anyway corporate doesn’t care who we think did it, we all had no proof and we all were guilty.

This was the first time I cried at work in my life. All the experienced women of the super market tried to make me feel better in the break room. Luckily my Aunt and older cousin had transferred in for some summer hours in the Health and Beauty Aids department or I may have actually thought it was my fault entirely like my manager intended. I didn’t know crying at work was a usual thing for women.

People are fucking mean for no reason sometimes. All the responsibility is on you even though you don’t have sick days or health insurance. You are the front lines. People complain to you because you are there, you are trapped in a box, you cannot leave, you are a teenager and therefore not that scary, their word against yours and the customer is Always right. That is mostly true even at small businesses but especially true when “corporate” doesn’t give a shit about you as a person. Like I said, they will just make someone else watch the videos for $25 bucks, what do they care? To them that cost is nothing compared to making sure people know they are expendable. 

I didn't lose my job but I learned a valuable lesson. The lowest on the totem pole takes the blame at every job.  Don't expect compassion because you are 15, that just makes you easier to blame. You must be young stupid and irresponsible. Aren't all teenagers?