Ok, I've got two things to share today. The first event happened today, the 7th. Yes, I know that you're probably reading this on the 8th, but I got off work way late tonight, so its still the 7th right now, dangit.The other happened a while ago... more than once. I'll get to that. I'm also apologizing in advance for how long today's post is. I don't usually post two stories in one, but I didn't want to wait to write either of them.
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~ Today I have the wonderful opportunity to inform you that someone tried to mug one of our patrons in the parking lot. He had a box cutter as his weapon-o-choice and demanded her purse and whatnot. This genius didn't really think too hard about what he was doing, though because it was broad daylight at the time in the middle of a rather busy parking lot. A truck drove up soon after he approached her, which she ran in front of to grab attention, while he took off in another direction.
The reason I know all of this is because the would-be mugged came into the store and told me about it. She was understandably shaken up, but I still got a description of what the guy was wearing from her and called the cops. An officer showed up about five minutes later, but the woman had already left and I assume the would-be mugger was long gone, as well. I think I may start carrying a knife with me again. Or some bear spray. I like the bear spray idea.
The reason I know all of this is because the would-be mugged came into the store and told me about it. She was understandably shaken up, but I still got a description of what the guy was wearing from her and called the cops. An officer showed up about five minutes later, but the woman had already left and I assume the would-be mugger was long gone, as well. I think I may start carrying a knife with me again. Or some bear spray. I like the bear spray idea.
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~ This second happening is something I've meant to mention for a while now, but I just keep forgetting. While cashiering, I've come across some people who really drive me bonkers, but this one really drives me up the wall. The particular patrons in this situation are regular customers and I've checked them out at least three times now. The group consists of one caretaker and three, disabled women. Of the three, one has smaller arm that she doesn't use and holds to her side and one is getting rather elderly. I don't know how to put this any more gently, but all three aren't quite all there in the noggin. Now, before you get your panties in a bunch, it is not the three disabled women who bother me. Those three are actually very kind and sweet. Its Mrs. Caretaker who (I feel) needs to be beaten with a very large, pointy stick.
To begin with, I want to give you an idea of what goes on here. Mrs. Caretaker brings these women to the store, usually at the beginning of the month, to purchase groceries. When they do, the purchase is always very large and paid for with food stamps. They usually have two, full baskets and more food is always brought up to the register than what they end up having money for. None of this bothers me, though. I prefer them bringing more than they'll need instead of holding up the line to grab more. With all that being said, allow me to move on to what does bother me about this set up.
Mrs. Caretaker does not:
1. Push a basket... ever.
2. Help take items out of the baskets to place on the moving belt.
3. Pick up full bags to place back in a basket.
Mrs. Caretaker does:
1. Stand in front of the register while the other three woman do everything.
2. Stand in front of the register and bark orders at the other three women.
3. Nothing to help the other three women.
In one instance, she even made the sweetheart with the bad arm carry something heavy which clearly required two, good hands. The poor dear had to hold on to it with her good arm and press it up to her body to even carry it. Mrs. Caretaker never lifts a finger for them, only raises her voice. She'll even send them back into the store to pick up things she forgot. In another instance, there were a lot of items left over on my belt that they didn't have enough money for. Mrs. Caretaker asked me if I wanted help putting the stuff back into a basket to move out of the way, but I declined. I knew that if I said yes, that she'd just bark an order for the others to help me. There's no way that she would have actually helped me, herself.
While they're at my register, I do every, possible thing that I can to help those women while trying to keep the purchase moving smoothly. I wish I could do more, but I can't do everything with Mrs. Caretaker throwing orders around while she watches the purchase total climb. She always tells me what amount to stop at, so there really is no reason for her to just stand there and stare at it. There's just no excuse, at all. People, disabled or not, do not deserve to be treated like that. Even if she were under some direct order to specifically have the three do everything by themselves, I still don't see that as an excuse not to help them. I don't care if she does everything at where they live from cleaning the toilet to washing their fannies. She. Should. Help. Them.
I've thought about trying to find someone to speak to about all this, but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know any of their names, where they're from, or what company Mrs. Caretaker works for. Our state's food stamp cards don't even have names on them, either, so finagling a peek at it would be useless. Because I've been working later shifts, I haven't seen them in the store for a while, too. If I do see them again, I plan on getting names, though. I plan on doing something.
To begin with, I want to give you an idea of what goes on here. Mrs. Caretaker brings these women to the store, usually at the beginning of the month, to purchase groceries. When they do, the purchase is always very large and paid for with food stamps. They usually have two, full baskets and more food is always brought up to the register than what they end up having money for. None of this bothers me, though. I prefer them bringing more than they'll need instead of holding up the line to grab more. With all that being said, allow me to move on to what does bother me about this set up.
Mrs. Caretaker does not:
1. Push a basket... ever.
2. Help take items out of the baskets to place on the moving belt.
3. Pick up full bags to place back in a basket.
Mrs. Caretaker does:
1. Stand in front of the register while the other three woman do everything.
2. Stand in front of the register and bark orders at the other three women.
3. Nothing to help the other three women.
I HATE IT!
In one instance, she even made the sweetheart with the bad arm carry something heavy which clearly required two, good hands. The poor dear had to hold on to it with her good arm and press it up to her body to even carry it. Mrs. Caretaker never lifts a finger for them, only raises her voice. She'll even send them back into the store to pick up things she forgot. In another instance, there were a lot of items left over on my belt that they didn't have enough money for. Mrs. Caretaker asked me if I wanted help putting the stuff back into a basket to move out of the way, but I declined. I knew that if I said yes, that she'd just bark an order for the others to help me. There's no way that she would have actually helped me, herself.
While they're at my register, I do every, possible thing that I can to help those women while trying to keep the purchase moving smoothly. I wish I could do more, but I can't do everything with Mrs. Caretaker throwing orders around while she watches the purchase total climb. She always tells me what amount to stop at, so there really is no reason for her to just stand there and stare at it. There's just no excuse, at all. People, disabled or not, do not deserve to be treated like that. Even if she were under some direct order to specifically have the three do everything by themselves, I still don't see that as an excuse not to help them. I don't care if she does everything at where they live from cleaning the toilet to washing their fannies. She. Should. Help. Them.
I've thought about trying to find someone to speak to about all this, but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know any of their names, where they're from, or what company Mrs. Caretaker works for. Our state's food stamp cards don't even have names on them, either, so finagling a peek at it would be useless. Because I've been working later shifts, I haven't seen them in the store for a while, too. If I do see them again, I plan on getting names, though. I plan on doing something.
2 comments:
Elder abuse? I think there is a phone hotline in local phone. Like CPS.
You also can start a "friendly" talk with the caretaker, that you appreciate her work so much, and ask her where she works etc. Then, when you can, call the facility and rapport what happens, or call that hotline, after you gettered the information and tell them what you experienced with this so called "care" taker. I would fee the same about this!
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