I was due to emigrate, but unfortunately, things were delayed. After a while, with money tight, I took a temporary job, any job I could find. It was particularly hard to find part-time work as no one wanted to hire an engineering manager to stack shelves or flip burgers.

But I found a supermarket nearby and got the job.

I’m pretty used to working hard in every job I do, so I did the same in this role. I was the first one there and the last one out. I took any job and task just to keep busy. I wasn’t trying to impress; it’s just the person I am.

I got a lot of hate from my coworkers; they saw me as a suck-up and a try-hard, no matter how much I tried to explain. But truly, I didn’t care what they said. In a month or two, I would be gone; they could hate me if they wanted for a while.

On the other hand, the management loved me; I didn’t call in sick, I worked without complaint, and I did as many hours as I could. In turn, I got the first pick on hours which, again, didn’t make me popular. 

Coworker: “Oh, I see someone got the weekend shift again.”

I ignore him.

Coworker: “Why is that, huh? Huh, bootlicker?”

Me: “Oh, talking to me? Well, if I had to guess, don’t be a massive screw-up who makes the same mistakes day in, day out.”

Coworker: “Mr. Perfect doesn’t make mistakes? Oh, why can’t we all be like Mr. Perfect?”

Me: “You put the stock in the right aisle; it’s not rocket science. How you manage to screw it up so often is beyond me.”

One of the managers walks in behind [Coworker]. I shut up. [Coworker] doesn’t.

Coworker: “Oh, so easy, that’s why you couldn’t do your own job? Why is it they fired you from your fancy engineering job?”

Manager: “[Coworker]!”

Coworker: “Some dumba** comes down here and sucks the d**k of these f***y, stupid, idiot managers.”

Manager: “[Coworker]!”

Coworker: *Finally turning around* “What? Oh, look who’s getting in trouble again!”

[Coworker] was led away; he didn’t return. With [Coworker] gone, the atmosphere changed, and suddenly, everyone was a lot friendlier. I made a few friends before I left. It’s amazing what one person can do to make life so difficult.

My immune system is busted, but I can’t tell if it’s reacting too much or not enough, so to stay safe, I’m steering clear of people for now. I’m also steering clear of the smoke so thick it looks like fog, which is enveloping half the West Coast as of August 2021 and, apparently, for the rest of our existence.

Part of avoiding people involves getting my groceries by ordering online and coming to pick them up. I do my thing, order my groceries, go to pick them up, present my card for the purchase… and it doesn’t work with the mobile card reader.

The young employee tries again. And again. Still busted. This is annoying, but whatever; clearly their Wi-Fi is kicking a fit, and it’s not like I don’t know how computer problems go.

Employee: “Okay, let me just take down your card number so I can run it in the store.”

I’m thinking, naively, that this means the number on the front of the card.

Me: “Oh, here.”

I hand my card over.

Employee: “Uh… No, the number.”

I suddenly have a horrible suspicion.

Me: “Do you mean my PIN?“

He responds as if this is totally normal.

Employee: “Yes.”

My soul leaves my body at about this point.

Me: “Sir, I am not giving you my PIN.”

Employee: “Uh. Sure.”

Somewhere in our wrestling match with the mobile card unit, the employee explained that some customers had been insisting that he take their PINs to avoid having to get out of the car. When we eventually had to go in, I let the manager know EXACTLY what some jerks were bullying a poor high schooler into, and that the poor kid was going to end up giving his own PIN away and not have any money after that.

Eventually, I was able to pay and leave, and hopefully, that manager has just learned why we say “no” to problem customers.

While working the counter, I smell smoke. I check around and see that the chicken case has caught on fire. I yell for the guy I’m working with. He grabs a fire extinguisher and I start moving stuff in the case so we can get to the growing electrical fire.

A customer approaches. He sees this: I’m holding up a shelf so that my coworker can get the extinguisher close to the VISIBLE FLAMES.

Customer: “Do you guys have any more hams?”

Me: “Yeah. I’ll get them after we take care of this.”

Customer: *Agitated* “Is there anyone else that can help me?”

Me: “No, it’s just us. I’ll get them as soon as the fire is out.”

Customer: “Could you hurry?”

Our little, independent, local supermarket has a shelf near the checkout for items marked down: things close to the use-by date, things with slightly damaged packages, weird things that clearly no one wants. (Most Australians remember the “Lamington-flavoured chips” debacle.)

There has been, on this shelf, for six months now, an opened packet of tampons with one missing. It’s only marked down to about 10% of its original price.

I know it hasn’t just been forgotten because I see them tend to the shelf often.

Seriously, how are they so cheap that they think they are actually going to sell an open packet of tampons and profit a tidy $2.50? What is their end goal here?

I have asked the teenage cashiers who work there a few times, because I just find it fascinating, and they just shake their heads and say, “I know, I know.”

I work part-time in a grocery store shopping for customers who ordered via our app. I’m walking down the dairy aisle one morning when a customer approaches me.

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: *Looking down at my apron* “Yes, I do.”

Customer: “I’d like to speak to the manager.”

Me: “Okay! One moment.”

I walk over to the nearest employee in sight: the guy behind the fish and seafood counter. He’s a manager, so he goes over to speak to her while I continue my work. A little while later, I swing through that aisle again.

Me: “So, what did she complain about?”

Fish Guy: “Oh, she wanted to tell us she’s going to stop shopping here and start going to [Competitor].”

Me: “That was it?”

Fish Guy: “Yup.”

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