Posted by: tlnemethy | April 29, 2013

Sock Money

As my time at The Mart is ramping down before I head to Minnesota, I figured that I should probably write a little more about my experiences working in retail.

The past few weekends I’ve worked have been extremely aggravating interspersed with bouts of hilarity that could be deemed disturbing. I was checking out this old man, and by checking out I mean the kind involving me ringing items through the register, and he gets all frazzled at the end because he just couldn’t remember where he put his cash. He’s patting his pockets and fiddling around with his jacket (which was totally unnecessary because it was freakishly warm outside) while I’m just standing there with a Stepford Wife expression on my face as I chuckle to myself.

Old people are my favorite brand of people to come through the store. I’m just standing there with that placid smile on my face as I attempt to rearrange my workspace into a more aesthetic and feng shui’d one. All of a sudden, he gets this adorable aha look on his face, like he just had his first ever Eureka moment. He lifts up his hand and gives me that hold on one second look before he ducks underneath the counter and I can openly smirk while he’s tucked out of sight.

So he finally rights himself and hands me a twenty that had been folded into a neat little square. It’s damp and warm. Like a swamp dollar. I raise an eyebrow as I unfold the bill and he must’ve felt then was the perfect time to explain. “I keep it in my shoe. Never falls out of my pocket that way.”

“Smart plan. I used to do that myself.” Yeah, when I was like seven or didn’t have any pockets. I was also dumb enough to store loose change in my shoes. It always started out fine, with the change tucked solidly behind my heel or even under the arch, but then it would devilishly sneak its way under the ball of my foot and become crippling. Imagine willingly placing a Lego in your shoe. Only this Lego liked to rearrange its shape.

So yeah. I took that sweaty sock dollar from the old man, processed it, gave him a receipt, and violently hand-sanitized after he left.


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