Sep 15, 2014

No, I Don't Work Here

In addition to being mistaken for a male occasionally throughout my life, I’m sometimes mistaken for a store employee when I’m out shopping. Mind you, it’s not like I wear my Quickie-Mart uniform or name tag when I'm at another store. I always have my coat on and am toting a handbag. Those are dead giveaways that I'm just another shopper, yet people get confused. And this has happened to me since I was a teen. I have no idea why.

I’m tired of this. Maybe I have a face that says, “Can I help you?” but anyone who knows me knows that I don’t want to help anyone. I don’t even help our customers at work, where it’s my job to help people. That comes up a lot at my performance appraisals.

Anyway, being mistaken for a store employee has happened so much that I finally stopped explaining that I don’t work at the store. Instead, I just answer people’s questions. It's easier that way.

Sometimes I answer politely.
Q: “What aisle are the soccer balls in?”
A: “There's a whole section of soccer balls for you and your little buddy in aisle 12. Run along now, sport.”

Sometimes I answer tersely.
Q: “Can you tell me how long the sale on canned goods lasts?”
A: “No.”

And sometimes I answer snidely:
Q: “Why are YOUR restrooms so filthy?”
A: “Why is your mom so filthy?”

Today the trend continued. I was about to exit Target when the security alarm went off. A woman in her 30s with a kid in the cart stopped in front of me. When she saw me, she asked if I wanted to look at her receipt and bags or if she could just go. “I just paid at that register right there,” she explained. What a dummy.

“No, you’re good,” I said, and she smiled and thanked me. I'm actually helpful sometimes.

As we exited the store, a vigilant policeman tackled the woman onto the sidewalk. “Stay down, dirtbag!” he yelled, and he pulled a gun on her.

Another cop tackled her toddler. “Never steal from Target!” shouted the policeman. The feisty toddler squirmed and got loose. That took me by surprise. He was quite a slippery little squirt. Finally, the kid settled down and agreed to stand against the wall to be frisked.

As I drove away, I saw the cop handcuff the child in my rear-view mirror. So young to have a record! Tsk tsk.

I considered turning around to help corroborate the woman's story, but I could see that the line at the nearby Starbucks drive-thru was unusually short, so I had to let it go. You just can't help everyone.

Anyway, it turns out it was another good day. Despite the unexpected curfuffle, I was able to get my coffee in a hurry and make it home in time for my date with the TV set. I guess life is good as long as you see the glass half full. Have a good day.

~ Jackie

P.S. Also, hi to Carol and Judy, who are both recuperating from surgery. Feel better soon!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Handcuff the lady, NO WAY!!! In Southern Alabama, we shoot at the thief and tazer the kid. But, once the kids get to ride in a police car, they turn very happy.

Jackie said...

Oh my. I'm glad I don't live in Southern Alabama, gentle reader. Thanks for the comment.

Anonymous said...

i missed this one "Jackie." Another good one.

John

Jackie S. Phillips said...

This is an update almost three years after I wrote the original post. I was shopping at a grocery store last week, wearing my coat, holding a purse and pushing a cart full of groceries, and yet a woman asked me what aisle we keep the appliances in! How does this keep happening to me? Crazy stuff.