One Day at Work

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One Day at Work

Every day, I followed the same old routine. Get up, eat breakfast, find my work vest, get dressed, leave. White polo shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Little red PharMor vest. Every single day. No variation, no chance for change or creativity. When working somewhere as mundane as a grocery store, you almost pray that something exciting happens to you during the day. But never does a cashier hope to encounter a tremendously irascible customer, the way that one summer day turned out for me.

I followed my humdrum routine, arriving for work on time, punching in, and returning to the front to begin my shift. The store was mostly calm, except for the constant beeping of the registers, the bickering of elderly couples, and the hum of activity swirling about the manager's desk. In other words, there was nothing out of the ordinary at all at good old PharMor. I was used to the noise, to the persnickety comments from customers, and to our sarcastic managers. Just when I thought I'd heard every possible complaint, seen every possible accident - it got worse.

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