Cutting it a little close

It's 7:55 and my break is in 15 minutes. Lady with really loaded shopping cart and two boys in tow pulls up to my register. Almost immediately, my CSM comes over and shuts off my light. "Go to break after this guest."

It will be a while -- she's price-matching almost everything. After taking off a few bags and loading them into shopping cart, two boys head for Family Fun Center. More like "Give Kids Loads of Quarters and Don't Bug Me While Shopping" Center, but I digress. Mom looks vaguely familiar, but we keep talking. I keep hoping something she says will refresh my memory about where I've met her.

This is a really large order, but Mom is on the cell phone. Not talking, but repeatedly dialing. Kind of weird. As the belt starts to get emptier, she explains. Every other week, she gets a check that's deposited into her bank account at 8:00. It's 8:05, still no check. Keep scanning, she says. It will come. It ALWAYS does.

OK, my checks are direct deposited, but they come in the middle of the night, sometime. (I try to be asleep when that happens, but I doubt it's at the same moment every two weeks.) It's not at 8:00 a.m., and certainly not 8:00 P.M. There's a fair share of frozen food here. Keep scanning? Really?

The cart is getting full, the belt's now half empty, and still no check. Son #1 comes back and starts rummaging in the candy near the checkout. He comes up with a couple of sugar-laden items. Mom says he can pay for those as soon as she finishes. Few more items to go, still no check. Order finished, still no check. She tries to run the card, just to see if it went in and hasn't registered, card declined. We're looking at each other, she starts to be hesitant -- it's ALWAYS come at 8:00 before. Hmm, wonder if it might be safer to start shopping the DAY AFTER the check is supposed to come, or at least checking out closer to 9:00. I ask her if it would be OK to suspend the transaction so I can check out her son (and anyone else who happens by). My break time has come, and Mom realizes it -- "Sorry, I'm keeping you from your break."

"That's OK," I say. What I'm thinking is "This is way too much fun to turn over. I want to know how it's going to come out."

Son #2 comes back for more quarters. Mom starts digging in purse for cash. My CSM comes over and wants to know why I haven't gone to break yet, and suspends transaction. I ring up her son's candy, and she says it has to be in. I put suspended transaction back in, and card is declined once again.

Once a transaction is suspended and re-scanned, a cashier can't re-suspend it. If I abort it, I'll have to re-scan everything (or more likely, some other hapless cashier will. I'll be on break.)

Mom checks with son #1. He has a $20 bill. She's got some money, and a little more money in the car, and she says she's going to run to the car and get it.

More than half the time, when people "go to the car" after a wallet, checkbook or cash, it's not really there. It's an excuse to escape, and we're going to have a lot of groceries to put back. Kids have now gone back to the game room, so maybe she is coming back. Kids come back to register to find out where Mom went, and head out the door. I see those chances slipping away.

But there she comes. Not looking very excited. There wasn't very much money in the car. She gets back on the phone, more frantic dialing to her bank. And finally, 8:40, check is deposited. We finish the transaction, and I head to break. She promises not to cut it so close next time, but you know she will. I just will try not to be the cashier that rings her up.

Is there a support group for that?

Some Wal-Mart Superstores have removed their fabric and craft department. Think about it -- I bought a nice blouse for $5 on the clearance rack last night. It would have cost me more than that in fabric and buttons to make it myself (plus years of sewing lessons, but I digress). My store hasn't given up on crafts. And last night, I found out why.

Scrapbooking addicts.

I am convinced that a few scrapbookers can single-handedly keep the department afloat. Last night, lovely young lady starts piling stuff on the belt. Piles of it. The clear cellophane sticker packs. 30 different kinds of peel and stick type. Plastic stencils. Colored brads.

"I know it's going to be about $300, but I love this stuff."

Wow. $300. My part-time check at Wal-Mart isn't much more than that. This stuff isn't contagious, is it?

The yellow plastic stencil of the beach scene gets tangled with some other yellow plastic stencil. I try to carefully free them -- she grabs the beach scene out of my hand. "Oh, that's going to be hard to do, but I probably won't use the surfer dude very often anyway." Surfer dude in scrapbook in Arizona? Probably highly unlikely, but go for it.

"Don't ya just love them?" she asks, as I scan Disney stickers by the handful.

Actually, no. I have a few Disney shirts, Disney stuffed animals I bought for my son years ago, but I'm not a princess or Tinkerbell fan. I smile and keep scanning.

"I have two whole suitcases of this at home."

I explain that I don't scrapbook, don't have time, work two jobs. Her plight doesn't do anything to change my mind. I would have piles of various stickers, stamps and fancy cutters that I would use very occasionally, then store in something. Truth be told, I'm trying to un-clutter my life. "You've got to make time," she trills.

No, I don't.

"Hi, I'm at Wal-Mart, checking out," she says to her cell phone. "I got a few more scrapbooking things off their clearance shelf."

A few more? Off the clearance shelf? That explains about four items on the belt. How about the other 83? Really. 87 items, almost all full price -- and today's price comes to $380 and some change. Wonder if she will share that info with whoever was on the other end of the phone?

Without choking or gagging at all, she runs her credit card.

If I had an extra $380 in my account, I'd do a weekend in California. Donate something to the food bank. Throw a party for my son and his friends. Bolster my church parking lot fund. Join a couple of friends in a Victoria's Secret shopping spree. Buy gas (OK, slightly overstated, but not far from the truth at over $3 per gallon). Not buy decorations for a photo album that will stay in my closet for eternity.

Somewhere, someone is creating "Scrapbookers' Anonymous." This lady is the future poster child.

Go ahead and ask me

"Was your store clean today?"
"Was your cashier friendly"
"Did your cashier greet you?"

I'm a customer and I've just spent three hours in Wal-Mart. I'm feeding my toddler Goldfish crackers to stop another screaming fit. I couldn't find the dog food by the rest of the groceries, and when I did find it, I was concerned about all the recalls I've heard about. I just about got run over by an overzealous stocker with a pallet jack. I was fourth in line at the register and finally got my stuff loaded on the belt. Now I just want to stand here and let someone ring up my cartload of merchandise and get home. "Was your cashier friendly?"

Wal-Mart must be in sweeps season, like the Nielsen ratings. There are surveys on the card reader and surveys on the register tape. I have no idea whether the surveys will actually change anything in our store. Personally, considering the bathroom situation in our store, I will never answer the "Was your store clean today?" question "Yes." It is impossible to clean sandstone surface tile that 500 people walk on, drip on, track mud on. And when the definition of clean bathrooms to one of our maintenance people is "put up towel, fill TP holders, sweep a little and spray a lot of disinfectant and run," it's not getting better soon.

Outside of customer initiated surveys, we have Store Trak, a national telephone poll surveying company. They compared our prices, store appearance, guest assistance, etc. with other grocery and discount stores. We have a lock on the "low prices" category. But on store cleanliness and staff questions, we are constantly getting beat. Biggest? Sure. Most selection? Yes. But Wal-Mart has still not instilled enough pride in its troops to make us No. 1 in everything.

I admit, if I ran the store, a couple of staff would go away within the first 20 minutes. If you're really not happy working here, do us both a favor. Find something to do that makes you happy. It's almost as easy to put a smile on your face and welcome the people who pay your paycheck than to frown and work with constant attitude. A colleague and I were discussing a fellow staff member after she stomped past us at the beginning of her shift. "If she were any friendlier, it would be dangerous," she said. Apparently, night help is hard to come by. I've had customers walk past me, complaining about lack of service, or cashiers that don't say a word to them at the register. C'mon.

Sam Walton said something like "The feeling customers have when they leave your store determines how soon they'll be back." (After a recent trip to Target, I know how true that is, but I won't bash the competition.) The same is true for my store. Do your job, but what the heck -- why not spread some goodwill as you do it?

Singing Irishman

Anything can happen to you at the register. Anything...although I'm still waiting for an alien abduction. I've gotta admit, I think that's getting closer.

I've been persecuted, proselytized and praised. I've had psuedo-conversations with tourists and other assorted guests. But I've never been serenaded...until this weekend. Couple in their 60s. Wife is unloading groceries from a full cart onto the belt. Husband is at the register, maybe to see if I overcharge them, maybe to wait until I fill a few bags to put them into the cart. So I think. Actually, he's just conversation-starved, I come to realize.

He starts quizzing me. Staring at my nametag -- "That's good Irish name." Actually, I didn't think so, but I am partly Irish. So I smile and nod, and he goes into a full Irish brogue. And asking me if I really know what "Erin Go Braugh" means. Doesn't it mean something about drink a lot of green beer on March 17? Not hardly. Then he starts into an Irish folk song -- while the six-bag carousel is full, and his wife is still unloading the cart. Had I been filling the belt, I would have added a roll of duct tape. We have those at registers, in the impulse merchandise. (Digressing, a guest just told me that duct tape is "The Force" because it's light on one side, dark on the other, and holds the universe together.)

No, I can't join in. Nor do I want to. I just check groceries as fast as I can scan. I think the best thoughts I can -- he's lonely, he could have been a mean jerk, he might actually get the idea and load bags if I start pulling them off. He does, but the banter continues. The lady finishes and pays. I smile and thank them, and realize I may get 10-15 minutes of him, but his partner has to hear that all the time. Lucky her.

Going where you've never gone before...

I try to learn something new everyday. But most of the time, that doesn't mean at Wal-Mart. The other day, I spent 20 minutes on a guest's cell phone as the guest's brother explained to me the various differences, pros and cons, of lever-, bolt- and pump-action rifles. Still had to wait until the regular staff returned to get the answer, which was "call back during the day and talk to the department manager about a special order."

I'm not a shooter. I'm not a hunter. I know nothing about weapons, ammo or what to kill with anything you might aim at them. I camp, I hike, I photograph. I don't know why people would want to fire paint loads at each other with compressed carbon dioxide. Apparently, my son tells me they hurt a little -- maybe a bunch if you get hit a bunch. Laser tag is fun. Pain is not fun. I try to stay up with hunting seasons just enough to stay out of the woods when people with alcohol and ammunition come through.

My naivete must be why they send me to sporting goods evenings to do lunches. Same reason they send me to the tobacco register, I guess. Never smoked, never chewed, never will. So I'm a complete idiot about all things in the smoke shop. Will this stuff work in your butane lighter? Hope so, but let's not try it here. Do we have that brand, or that type? Do you see it? Then probably not.

One manager once told me that "I present myself well." I think that means I'm polite when I'm telling them I haven't got a clue what they want. I don't get sarcastic when they tell me how Wal-Mart sucks and no one has a clue. We have three kinds of cashiers: 1) Ones that "present themselves well," 2) Ones that get flustered, cry, or quit under pressure; and 3) Ones that get sarcastic, rude or throw things. Since I'm in the first category, I get thrown into the sink-or-swim situations.

Cross training is a much discussed, but never implemented idea at Wal-Mart. We're short-handed, so we don't have staff to send you there when there's someone knowledgeable there to teach you anything. But when they're missing -- sorry, you have to go cover it. Do the best you can, and call a customer service manager or assistant manager if you run into something you can't handle (which you will). What you actually learn will be anything you observe when the manager is bailing you out.