"Craft Star. How may I help you?"
I sit here and I find myself in a strange place. A mix of the past and the future are mingling here in this hour of the night with no shame. The past comes to me in the form of When I'm Older by Rory Corbin and the future comes to me by means of long trains of thought about my recent employment. Yes, that's right, I am employed. Who, you ask, did I finally con into giving me their money? Well that would be Craft Star in Frontier Village. And for those of you who are saying 'ahha!' to themselves right now- sure it was Melinda's old job, but she didn't get me the position so you can stop it. I suspect that not even my very un-impressive application got me the job, but the raw need for somebody else to press little buttons and play with pricing guns all day. Things aren't all fun and games though, let me tell you.
There is such an evil thing as an over ring. An over ring happens when you make a mistake at the register such as forgetting to type in a discount on an item, forgetting to ring an item up before you cash out, ringing up an item twice, etc. And instead of just being able to hit a back button, which would be nice, we have to start all over again and ring everything up again the correct way. Once you are done with the customer you have to fill out a little slip stating your name, date, and what you did wrong. Friday I didn't have the joy of filling out any over ring slips, but Saturday, man oh howdy, my pen was flowing over them like a stream over pebbles. I do fine on the register when I know I have somebody watching my back, but as soon as I am thrown into The Cage by myself I start getting anxious that I am going to make a mistake and I won't know how to fix it. Then I do make a mistake and I'm not sure of how to fix it. Then making that mistake and having that uncertainty makes me afraid of making another mistake and then I make that mistake and so on and so forth. It is a vicious cycle and I am glad I can escape for a few days. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining, I am just glad for the few days I have off before I work again to unwind myself and cool off so to say.
One of the only aspects of this work of mine that I do appreciate in any way is what it does to your feet. I am not used to being on my feet for seven hours straight and my shoes, I've found out, are not the most comfortable for doing that in. By the time my shift is over murderous thoughts are rippling down from my upper and lower back, over my legs, and finally resting in my feet. Oh the many joys of working your first job.
Besides the aching in my limbs a few other things have taken company with me at that store. For one- a horrible sort of gnawing fear seems to burrow into my soul when I look at the cash register and see a long string of people lined up in front of it. Once I touch those keys the realization that I am dealing with other people’s money and that if I screw up they’re going to be pissed at me starts to overshadow my thoughts. But you know, you make a few mistakes, you learn from them, life goes on, and your next customers are a little bit more lucky then your past ones.
Moving from pain to mistakes and back to pain again, I have one word for you- Kathy.
Kathy is a spicy old math teacher whose comments and speech sting as much as they entertain. No action, innocent or not, is safe from Kathy’s sight and stabbing whit. She loves no one and has very little mercy for the impatient, dull minded, and slow. She can be either a great ally or a great enemy, but if she is polite to you be warned! It means you have gotten on her bad side and if you do not evacuate the area immediately there could be very ugly consequences to pay.
But not all of my co-workers are so hazardous to one’s health and mental state. Most are even tempered, sweet, and a pleasure to work with. Just make sure you catch them on their good days.
There is such an evil thing as an over ring. An over ring happens when you make a mistake at the register such as forgetting to type in a discount on an item, forgetting to ring an item up before you cash out, ringing up an item twice, etc. And instead of just being able to hit a back button, which would be nice, we have to start all over again and ring everything up again the correct way. Once you are done with the customer you have to fill out a little slip stating your name, date, and what you did wrong. Friday I didn't have the joy of filling out any over ring slips, but Saturday, man oh howdy, my pen was flowing over them like a stream over pebbles. I do fine on the register when I know I have somebody watching my back, but as soon as I am thrown into The Cage by myself I start getting anxious that I am going to make a mistake and I won't know how to fix it. Then I do make a mistake and I'm not sure of how to fix it. Then making that mistake and having that uncertainty makes me afraid of making another mistake and then I make that mistake and so on and so forth. It is a vicious cycle and I am glad I can escape for a few days. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining, I am just glad for the few days I have off before I work again to unwind myself and cool off so to say.
One of the only aspects of this work of mine that I do appreciate in any way is what it does to your feet. I am not used to being on my feet for seven hours straight and my shoes, I've found out, are not the most comfortable for doing that in. By the time my shift is over murderous thoughts are rippling down from my upper and lower back, over my legs, and finally resting in my feet. Oh the many joys of working your first job.
Besides the aching in my limbs a few other things have taken company with me at that store. For one- a horrible sort of gnawing fear seems to burrow into my soul when I look at the cash register and see a long string of people lined up in front of it. Once I touch those keys the realization that I am dealing with other people’s money and that if I screw up they’re going to be pissed at me starts to overshadow my thoughts. But you know, you make a few mistakes, you learn from them, life goes on, and your next customers are a little bit more lucky then your past ones.
Moving from pain to mistakes and back to pain again, I have one word for you- Kathy.
Kathy is a spicy old math teacher whose comments and speech sting as much as they entertain. No action, innocent or not, is safe from Kathy’s sight and stabbing whit. She loves no one and has very little mercy for the impatient, dull minded, and slow. She can be either a great ally or a great enemy, but if she is polite to you be warned! It means you have gotten on her bad side and if you do not evacuate the area immediately there could be very ugly consequences to pay.
But not all of my co-workers are so hazardous to one’s health and mental state. Most are even tempered, sweet, and a pleasure to work with. Just make sure you catch them on their good days.
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