Register Tales from the Walgreen's World of Retail 

(The Customers One Never Forgets)

 Everything in It's Spot

One day, many years ago, I offered to help an older lady, who needed help finding something in the grocery aisle, at Walgreen's. She said she was suffering with a little bit of Alzheimers, and that she could not find something that she had always found on the shelf, previously. She could not remember the name of of the food item, but she remembered that it had cheese on it.

Another co-worker came over to help, and suggested helpfully, that if it had cheese, it likely was not on a shelf. Finally, the customer had an epiphany. "I know what it is called!" she exclaimed, "Pizza!" We directed her to the cooler.

 Midget Lady

There is a petite customer, in her 60's, that often shops in our store. She has a constant wide-eyed look, something like a mix of surprise and confusion, on her face. My co-worker and I refer to her as the Midget Lady. Not because she is a midget, but because she repeatedly tells the the same politically incorrect midget jokes to us, as if it is the first time, when she is ready to check out. (It is a little like Ground Hog day).

We always hope that two of our regular customers, who are height challenged, never hear her. We are not sure if this lady even understands these jokes. The Midget Lady gives my co-worker Chris a migraine, and sometimes causes her to walk around with her hand pressed to her forehead, due to this puzzling, and strange, behavior.

The first time I encountered one of the Midget Lady's baffling questions, she had walked over to an area where we had always had a cologne counter, and looked around, with bewilderment.

"Where is it?" she asked me, in a whisper.

"Where is what?" I asked back, in the same, shocked, whisper of intrigue.

 "The stuff that makes my lips shiny, that was over here."

"I replied, "This cologne case has always been here."

 I then asked her if she knew the brand name of the lip product she wanted, as we probably have about at least 200 products, that would put shine on her lips.

She looked shell-shocked, and did not reply, as she proceeded to search out Cover Girl, hoping to find the lipstick she needed. Thankfully, for our sakes, she did find it.

Another equally perplexing time, the Midget Lady came over to our cosmetic register, and asked us, "Do you have anything for hair?" Chris and I had no idea what to suggest, at first. What did she want to do with her hair: brush it, wash it, condition it, style it, dye it, perm it, or put it in a pony-tail?

"I don't know," she replied, when we asked for more details. "I just know it is in a pink box."

This is when I had an epiphany.

"You are looking for the vitamin, called, 'Nails, Skin, and Hair'."

She said she had no idea. She had just seen it on TV. I walked her to this product, and it was, in fact, what she wanted.

I remembered then, suddenly, with a hazy sensation of deja vu, that I had shown this product to her, at least one other time, before. I have a feeling she has about six boxes at home, already. What's one more? Like I said, it is just like Ground Hog Day, with this woman.

Another time, the Midget Lady asked Chris where the make-up was, that does not come off. Chris informed her that all make-up comes off with make-up remover. This customer, now seemingly, distraught, walked away. Chris put her hand to her head, and said she needed a Dr. Pepper, to prevent a migraine. I mentioned this to my husband, later, who replied, "Make-up that does not come off? That would be a tattoo."

 Are You Sure?

There is a very macho-type man, who is around 60, who often shops in our department, but barely speaks. He is the strong and silent type, and he does not mince words. One day he actually asked us for a hair product for styling, that was wax-based. Chris found one on the shelf. He stared at it skeptically, and asked, "But is this good for hair?" He asked us about three times. We assured him that this was, in fact, what it was for. After he left, I asked Chris, "Do you think he thought we were giving him shoe polish, or something?"

 Say What?

A very elderly lady came up to me, in a cosmetic aisle, this past holiday season, and asked if I could help her. I assured her, that I would.

"Men's smells," she said.

"Men's cologne?" I inquired.

"Yes, I need your best men's smell for thirty dollars. I do not want to spend fifty bucks." I offered her samples of several new men's colognes. She decided on a men's signature cologne, that I am sure she had never heard of, but she left happy.

  
Maxine

There is a customer that Chris and I call Maxine, because she is looks, and behaves, just like the crabby, opinionated, old lady cartoon you see in calendars, and the daily paper. If you met her, you would understand exactly what I mean. She is, what is often referred  to, as a "tough old bird." She is at least 90 years old, and is saving her balance reward points, for a rainy day.

The last time she was in the store, Maxine asked Chris if we had a certain kind of cologne of sale, describing it by an incorrect name, that was not even close. She then further confused Chris, by saying it was created by a person, whose signature cologne, it was not.

Translating customers' requests is a full-time job in itself, since customers often call things by the wrong name, or say it is for to be used for something, that it's original intent is not really for, in the first place. Chris was able to figure it out, however.

Chris explained to her that we did have this (horrendously smelly, migraine-inducing) perfume in stock. Then she spent five full minutes explaining the current sale price to this lady. Finally, Maxine, whilst leaning over the cosmetic counter, barked to Chris, "Well, haul it out, then." Chris then had to go around to the other side of the cosmetic counter, as Maxine was blocking the entrance to the front of it.

Maxine likes to walk up to the cosmetic register, and holler out my name, so I can ring her up, rather than step into the aisle, where I am, and ask me, in a somewhat considerate manner.

One time, she asked Chris where she was going, "looking so sexy." Another time she told me my hair looked "shiny." I told informed her that I had just redyed it. "Humph!" she replied, as if I had done something quite shameful. I often wonder what it was like, being raised with such a woman, who never has a thought, she does not share. Yet, she does have character. I wonder if she has a little white dog?

 Have to Know Now

One day, long ago, I was working at the front register, and a young lady purchased a pregnancy test. "Do you want a bag?" I asked. "No." she replied, in a hurry. "Where is the bathroom?"


Guy Stuff

You would be might be surprised to learn how many men wander into the cosmetic department, looking for things that their significant other needs. Everything from mascara, to feminine hygiene products. I offer to help all of them. Some refuse, feeling that if they accept my help, they are asking for directions. Some gladly exclaim, "Yes, please!" 

Men are often astounded to find out how many kinds of mascara there are on the cosmetic wall (all told, maybe a 100?). If they are looking for this particular item, I need to ask them the brand, the color, and whether they want it for volume, length, or both. The looks and questions that I get, are priceless. "You mean there is more than one kind? It comes in colors?"

The same thing happens in the hair color aisle, and especially so, in feminine hygiene, where even us ladies, have too many choices. Thankfully, my husband is pretty good about shopping. He likes to do so, and he likes to save money. However, I try to have compassion on him, when it comes to purchasing things, I should really purchase, myself.

These male customers whom I just mentioned, often tell me they will be in the dog house if they get the wrong product, or do not find the right sale. Several times, I have gotten on a gentleman's customer's cell phone, to speak to their wife or girlfriend, to make sure they went home with the right thing. Going the extra mile for a customer!

A middle-aged man was aimlessly wandering around the hair color aisle, one day, when I asked him if I could help him find something. He looked around, and said, "You sure have a lot of stuff, here." I was not sure what to say. We are, after all, a store.

 Odd Weirdness

One day, a man walked in to Walgreen's, and promptly walked up to my co-worker, Chris, and gave her his newly acquired prescription, thinking any counter would do, to drop it off. Chris had to tell him to take it to the pharmacy. I think his wife had just told him to drop it off at Walgreen's.

I had a lady customer come into the store, and asked right away, if we had a drug store. I informed her that we were a drug store. 

On a particularly quiet Sunday night, an older couple walked in, and when they did not see anyone at the register, the gentleman hollered, "Hello? Where are the Band-Aids?"

 Just Give Me Toothpaste

About half of the customers that shop at our store are at least 55, or older. This age group seems to be the most, shall I say, interesting. There is a one older lady who regularly comes in, who I always thought was deaf, because she never spoke to me, even if I asked her, if she needed help. She signed up for every contest we had going on in the cosmetics department, but she never said a word.

One day, however, she surprised me by asking me a question, and then after that, she began regularly coming in with her husband, and started to speak to me, once in awhile.

This woman looks like she never washes her hair, but she is very compulsive about toothpaste. She buys any brand that is on sale, with a register reward; meaning she will get the money right back, with a coupon, to use in the store. I cannot imagine how many tubes of paste she must have at home.

 I am fairly sure I almost caught her trying to steal toothpaste one day, as she pulled it out out of her coat, and put it on the shelf, when I walked by. She used to always try to get the suggestive sell items, at Walgreen's, for free. We have a always have sign by our promotion of the week, at every register, which explains that if we do not ask them, if they want to buy this item, they, as a customer, can get it for nothing. We had to be very careful with this particular customer. She now knows now, though, that we are on to her.

This customer's husband always seemed a little more normal to me, until one day, when they were both in the store, and her spouse suddenly omitted a primitive, quite loud, somewhat caveman, sounding noise, that made the hair stick up on the back of my neck. His wife came running to him, instantly, from another aisle. "Normal," is no longer a word, I will consider for this man.

 Sign Language

Speaking of being deaf, my co-workers and bosses claim this never happens to them, but when I ask customers if I can help them, they often feel compelled to use sign language with their requests. "Do you have toothpaste?" they ask, pantomiming tooth-brushing. "Do you have knee braces?" they inquire, while holding their knee. This happens all day long, with as many products as you can imagine.

There is a male customer, who is deaf, that seeks Chris and I out, specifically, because we know a little sign language. He is so happy to be understood. The last time he was at our store, he did a sign for diapers, right on his person, then the sign for baby. I knew he wanted one of two things. I took him to the baby aisle, hopefully, where his expression clearly revealed to me, that I was close, but not quite right.

 So, I took him to the incontinence aisle, where his face lit up. He signed to me that his problem was quite bad. Not an expert in these products, I did the best I could, and explained to him that if they did not work out, he could exchange them. He is a very nice guy. Sometimes though, these kinds of things happen, which you never knew would be included in your job description.

 What's Body Wash?

One of my weirdest transactions ever, involved a customer who was around 50, and appeared to be a professional-type person, and highly intelligent. He came to my cosmetic counter and told me he needed to return a product. He explained that he never does this, but this this particular product was just terrible. He gave me a bottle of Dove body wash. He said he wanted to try something else.

I brought him over to the skincare aisle, and suggested some other brands, that were geared specifically for men. He read the labels, and asked, "What is body wash?"

I replied, "The product you want to return is a body wash." He asked again, what that was. I explained that it was a product you used in the shower to clean yourself, and then wash off. He looked at me, with a new found revelation, and also sudden embarrassment. Then he asked me, "So this is a product, I am supposed to wash off?"

I said, "Yes, what kind of product are you looking for?"

"Something to make my skin soft," he explained.

With new understanding, I said, "You want a lotion." He nodded. We picked out a men's moisturizer. He told me he had put the Dove product all over his body, and hated it, because it did not blend in to his skin. He had spent the previous day with body cleanser all over him. This man had never heard of body wash. He was quite embarrassed, but I am thinking that he is going to learn to read bottles better.


 Seriously?

A young male customer came in recently, and was looking for body wash, in the shampoo aisle. I told him it was just one aisle away. "Don't you have it all in the same aisle?" he asked, clearly annoyed. I wanted to explain, that with as many products as we had, this would be impossible. I assume he usually picks things up at the grocery store.


 Health Nuts? Wrong Store!

A lady about 30 years of age, got on my case, one day, last year, when I asked her if she wanted to buy a certain type of candy, which was the suggestive sell item, I was required to suggest, to every customer. She exclaimed. "You sell candy here? That's not right, you are a drug store."

I wanted to tell her, that we did in fact, always have at least one aisle, dedicated to candy, and two, on any given holiday. Walgreen's is a drug store, not a health food store, and has been selling candy, since it opened, in the early 1900's. We sell quite a lot of it, as well as soda, and cigarettes. However, you have to be very careful what you say to customers these days, even when they themselves are rude, or they will call and complain to corporate about you, and you will get in trouble.

We have many diabetics get nasty to us when we suggestive sell candy to them, assuming that their condition must be tattooed on their foreheads.


What About Bob?

There is a regular customer we just know as Bob. When he walks in, I admit to trying to hide quickly, as he drives me insane. Bob is a middle-aged, beer-bellied, bald, and quite unattractive, man. Every time he walks in, it as if it is an episode of Cheers. "Honey, I am home," he calls out, in an obnoxious manner, to no one in particular. (I have seen him do this at the Dollar General, as well). I think he expects a "Hi, Bob!" and applause, but it never happens.

Usually, the first thing he would do, after this greeting, was to announce his intentions, quite loudly. "Let's go bother Linda," he would say, referring to the lady who used to be the Senior Beauty Advisor, in cosmetics. She was always very patient with him. He has always been under the impression that if he rings up his Mountain Dew up at our register, we will make commissions on it. I can not assure him otherwise, though, I admit, I do try.

Now that Linda is retired, he usually calls out, "Let's go bug Holly." In my mind, I am always thinking, "Let's not." If I am in fact there, and I have not have time to disappear, he calls out to me, "Hi, Hol," as if we have a close friendship. I admit to not speaking much to him on these occasions, so he often says, "Holly is crabby." I do not think he has ever learned Chris's name.

 This customer feels very at home in our store. He believes that he knows about everything, we as staff, are doing, and why. He thinks that every project we are working on is considered a "reset," and  very much enjoys bellowing out, "I see 3," before we can, when there are more than 3 people in line. The other Walgreen's patrons tend to stare at him, then, in confusion.

Bob is the kind of guy that will hold you up for half an hour, babbling about nonsense, if you tolerate him, for too long. Anything that we suggestive sell to him, even shampoo, he says no to, explaining that he had just had an apple. Then he will leave us a piece of hard candy, as a "treat." Today, the treat was actually, apple-flavored.

  
Nutritional Drink Lady

There is a lady that we refer to as the Nutritional Drink Lady. This lady has rain checks she has collected for years, almost as thick as a deck of cards, to use for Walgreen's Nutritional Shakes, (like Ensure), so that she can always get it on sale. She claims it is for her sick husband, who she always says is waiting in the car, to elicit sympathy. Due to the sneaky detective work of my husband, we now know, he is not really there. She puts on a poor old lady act, but she knows exactly what she is doing.

Every one of the Nutritional Shake Lady's transactions takes at least twenty-five minutes, as she always tries to argue pricing with us. She wants to get the sale price, and then use her rain checks on top of it, hoping to get a very low price. This is something which Walgreen's corporate would really frown down upon us, for allowing to happen.

The Nutritional Drink Lady tries to get points for these shakes, without spending enough, or buying the right product. She wants to combine two stores transactions, so she can get the said points, which are for spending the right amount, on the right item, all at one time. She will claim at each Walgreen's store, that the other stores let her do, whatever her new scheme is, at the time. Our stores communicate with each other, so we all know the truth.

The first time I encountered this very annoying woman, she had ordered a very large amount of these nutritional drinks, so she could get them all on sale, with her rain check. When it arrived, and she found out how much money it was going to come to, she asked me if she could just purchase some of them, and get a rain check on the rest. I explained to her that rain checks were for things we did not have in stock, and that we had ordered these special, just for her. "Oh," she said.

Every single one of her transactions requires a manager to tell her the same thing we have likely already told her, ten times. She does not listen to any of us. She pretends to understand when a manager is present, then starts the same line of questioning and debate as before, once they leave. We always ring her up  in cosmetics, so she will not hold up the front register, and mislead new employees.

The last time she was at our store, the assistant manager, Mr. N., a very witty, business-minded man, with a real knack for sarcasm, had to get involved. He explained everything as we had already, then took her current rain check, and wrote a date on it. She cried out in despair, "Why did you do that?"

He explained that rain checks now have an expiration date of only 60 days, after we give it. She exclaimed, "That is is not the date that I got the rain check."

Mr. N. asked, quite matter of factly, "Did you want me to write an earlier date on it?"

"No," she said, with a pout.

"You are always so difficult," she replied, to Mr. N.

This is something, which is in fact, often true. However, we as staff, usually do not dare to say that to him.

"I am sorry you feel that way," Mr. N. said, with sweet-sounding sarcasm, "Have a nice day, and be well." I enjoyed that particular transaction with her, very much.


I Need To Ask You A Question

There is a middle-aged lady, who comes into our store, on a daily basis. I will just refer to this customer as B. This lady is what you might call, eccentric. She is very thin, and tall, with a very short haircut, dyed a very strange, unnatural, shade of red. Her fashion style is one that is all her own, one that I assume is either a collection from many thrift stores, or is composed of items she has saved from the seventies. She wears very odd glasses, and comes across as a little nerdy.

B does not have a good concept of personal space. She puts her face right into yours, and stands way too close to you, when she wants to talk to you.

This customer is very polite, but extremely odd. B is always on a mission, for something very specific, that she has just realized that she needs. It might be for a backpack to donate to kids less fortunate, or for a very specific shade of plum lipstick.

One time B came in and asked Chris's advice on stock certificates she had at home, and inquired of her whether she she should give them to her children, in the hopes of rectifying strained relationships.

Another day, she asked my advice on buying diapers for her daughter, who had just had a new baby, in the hopes of winning her back, emotionally. The only thing very predictable about B, is that she always begins her search for the item or interrogation of the day, by saying, "I need to ask you a question."

B just loves Walgreen's, and thinks our Balance Reward Card is one of the greatest blessings on earth. One time, when we had just started requiring this card for any sale prices, B told me again how great a benefit she thought she got from our reward card. I casually mentioned that we still had some people who did not want to sign up for it, as they feared the Walgreen's company was watching them, kind of like Big Brother.

B leaned her face close into my mine, and hissed, in a conspirative tone, "They already are watching!"

Not that long ago, B came into the Walgreen's, and found Chris and I, putting away warehouse stock. "I just found a new store," she informed us, enthusiastically.

"Where is that?" I asked, a little distracted, hoping that perhaps, a somewhat new, and interesting store, might have just opened, in our town.

"The Dollar Store," B explained. "I can not believe the things I can find there for only a dollar. Cleaning products, and personal care items."

"I buy a lot of things at the Dollar Store," I replied, "but I would not trust everything. I would not use their hair color."

"Well," B continued, undaunted, "I just wanted you to know, who you are competing with, now."


I Do Not Think We Can Shop Anymore 

Several years ago, shortly after we had moved our store to a new building, two miles from our old one, an elderly couple came into the store. The lady came right up to the front register, and began leafing through our flier, without even acknowledging my presence.

Her seriously ailing husband stood off to the side, looking as if he did not even know where he was. He had a patch on one eye.

"Is there anything I can help you find?" I asked his wife, helpfully.


 The lady looked at me, startled, and flatly said, "No! I am just looking at the ad." Then, she suddenly changed her mind.

"Yes, you can do something," she said, then, rudely. "You can move your store, right back to where it was. We went to the old location, and could not find it. We got lost finding this one, and I had a hard time getting into the parking lot. When you do these things, you make it very hard for us old people."

I was at a loss for what to say, as of course, there was nothing I could do about this problem, and the fact that she thought we could actually do this for them, sounded ridiculous to me.

The woman then turned to her husband, who continued to stand to the side, somewhat wobbly, and to smile, in a sort of senile kind of way, at us. He had no idea what was going on at all. His wife said to him, (I doubt he could even hear her), "Dillard, I do not think we can shop on our own, anymore."


Barely Pierced

Many years ago, we had a sweet young lady, named Kim, that used to work for our store. She was very good with customers. She had a very small stud piercing in her eyebrow, and it was barely noticeable. One day, an older customer made Kim cry, by declaring, "If  you are going to look like that, you should work in the inner city of Chicago."

This cranky, rich, old lady then asked to speak to a manager; so Jackie, the shift lead at the time, was the one who got to tell this rude customer that Walgreen's has no policy on piercing. The customer then claimed to spend thousands of dollars in Walgreen's every year, and said she would stop shopping at Walgreen's, if Kim was allowed to have piercings. She wanted the store manager's number.

Jackie told me about this, a little while after it happened, and also how she felt that we were not losing anything, by losing this kind of customer.

"She will not have good luck with Mrs. W.," I told Jackie, referring to our store manager. "She herself has about eight piercings, in the rim of her right ear!"


The Magic Button Does Not Exist

We have another well-to-do customer who is claims to live in a hotel, and who always requires special treatment. She does really spend thousands in our store, and usually fills her basket with anything she has a whim for, and it is rarely on sale. She will tie up lines, arguing about prices she has confused. She will insist on going before other people, who are already waiting, or ask that another register be opened, just for her, because she has Fibromyalgia, and wants all her bags double bagged, and carried to the car.

One time, she said to me, "I can not remember which of these things are on sale, get points, or require a coupon, but the manager knows me, and you can push a button, and everything will just go on sale." I assured her that there was no such magic button, that any coupon has to be scanned, just like at any other store.


 Does Anyone Know What Time It Is?

Another interesting older person, who I will just refer to as E, is a customer we will always remember. She calls the store the all the time, to ask us questions, that no one else ever would. She always tells us who she is, but we know her, by her voice. She is a very needy customer. E is a quite small lady, and she always shuffles along with her cart, very slowly, hunched over, with her face down. We know her by her walk, as soon as she comes into our department.

E used to call constantly, over to the cosmetics, asking about the same hair-coloring product that we had not carried, for some time. She could not stop worrying about her hair, and that it would be damaged by any other similar hair-coloring products. No matter how many times we told her that almost no hair dye has ammonia, or peroxide, in it anymore, she would not believe us.

This customer can usually not integrate any new information, and has often hung up on us, because we tried to help her see the truth about the products she mentioned. So, for years, she had a white stripe through the top of her short, blondish-gray hair, which she always wears right in her face. She was terrified of any new hair color..

Recently, someone did manage to get E to buy hair dye, at a beauty store. Her hair is a very odd shade of dark brown now, and she missed a great big spot, on the top of her head. She is not happy at all, about how it looks. Chris and I dye our hair quite often, and would have been glad to give her suggestions, but she is rarely open to them.

One day E came into the store, looking for dental floss. She wanted me to recommend a kind that would be good for both teeth that were widely-spaced, and those that were also close together. I did the best I could, and she chose a brand from a peg. Then she found Chris, and asked her the same questions. I am not sure if she chose a different one after that, or not.

The next day, however, my assistant manager Mr, N., got a call from E, and took it over in cosmetics. I heard him say her name, on the phone, and I thought, "Oh, no."

Mr. N. and E have grown to know each other, well. She specifically looks for him, because he is extremely patient with her. E complained to Mr. N. about the lack of help she felt she had received from Chris and I, with the dental floss. She said that I seemed like I did not want to help her, and how that Chris, although she was more helpful, knew nothing about dental floss.

Mr. N. explained that Chris and I were really were not trained in the dental department, that our specialty was more in cosmetics, and in cologne. However, he also told me that we had to try harder with her, next time. I informed Chris about this situation, and explained to her that I had decided, that next time, I would just suggest to E that she buy two different kinds of floss, one for the tight teeth, and one for the widely-spaced ones. What else could I possibly do? Do I look like a dentist?
  
 The story that E is best known for, regards Daylight Savings Time. Two years ago, the night before we were to turn our clocks back one hour, E called my cosmetic department. I answered the phone, and she began to explain that she had had been sitting in a chair, watching TV, while her sick husband slept on the couch.

"Then I suddenly looked at the calendar," she continued. "I saw that tonight is Daylight Savings Time. I do not know what to do." This lady is at least, 70.

Not having read the Five Meeting Notes in the office that day, or even looked at a calendar, I did not know for sure if it was actually the right night to turn our clocks back, or not, so I told her that I was not sure.

"Don't you have anyone in authority, that can tell me?" she asked, with obvious distress.

Unfortunately, Mr. N., her favorite manger, was not there at the time. So I paged Jaimie, who was the lead shift lead, to pick up the call. E then tormented Jamie for quite awhile, asking her how to turn her clocks back, and how to get up at the right time, the next morning. After talking to E, Jaimie paged me, demanding that I call her in the office. She was not happy with me, for giving her this customer, whom she really disliked.

"If you would have read the Five Minute Meeting Notes," she said, "You would have known this."

"She wanted to speak to someone in authority," I explained. "I was not it."


The Flowerland Lady

There is a very daffy, disorganized, older lady, whom we refer to as the Flowerland Lady. She buys a lot of Kleenex, and always uses a tax exempt status, because her husband owns this nursery. She always reminds the cashier about the exemption status, at the very last minute. We are not sure this exception is legal, but we can not do anything about it.

This Flower Lady comes in with her two grand kids, and says things like, "Let's ask this employee if they can put this toy, on sale, for you." Once I heard her say to a grandchild, "I need to get you home, your mother does not know where you are."

This Flower Lady never wants to leave the store, once she is in it. She rings up numerous times, after finding more things to buy, often arguing about the price of, and the amount, of Kleenex, she was charged for, in any transaction.


 Is It A Requirement? 

Not long ago, a British customer rang up in cosmetics, and asked Chris, without a hint of sarcasm, whether one needed to have to be "ginger-haired" (English for red-head) to work in our department. At the time, about five of us worked at least part-time in cosmetics, and all but one of us, were red-heads, either naturally, or by choice. Chris assured him, however, that it was not a requirement.


Too Many Drugs

Last, but not least, we can not forget about someone I will just refer to as C., as she is well-known in this town. This lady is addicted to prescription drugs, and to some that are not even legal. She often comes into the store, in a daze, high on them, and she stumbles around the store, knocking things over. She has been arrested in, and outside of our store. Once she had a pair of our reading glasses, she had yet to purchase, with a case attached, pinned to her head.

One day, she told one of my co-workers, that they should try taking prescription drugs, and Marijuana, at the same time.

"Why would I want to do that?" my co-worker asked, with concern.

This lady tries to come up with schemes to get her prescriptions multiple times, which always fail, and she is always returning odd things like cell phones, scissors, computer mice, opened bottles of make-up, and so forth, without a receipt, to get store credit. She is usually allowed to do so. She told two of my co-workers once, that she wanted to hit me, because she felt I had not done her return properly. She had not gotten cash back, as she had hoped, only a credit to her credit card.

"That was not my money," she told me, at the time, "It was Pug-Fest money."

Mr. N. told me, later, though, that I did the return properly.


Pot

Speaking of Marijuana, one day a pregnant co-worker came in for her shift, in cosmetics, and promptly asked me, "Did you find the pot?"

"Why?" I asked. "Did somebody lose some?"

My co-worker enlightened me, by explaining that the cops had been in the store a day earlier, looking for some Marijuana, that someone had supposedly stashed, at our store. It was never found. Well, not by any of our staff members, anyway.