At Least He's Honest About His Dishonesty

A high school student comes in to prepay for gas with cash (which saves about six cents per gallon at our store).

"Twenty-five on pump two," he says.

I hit "2" on the register, then the "prepay" button, then "2500" and "total."

"Will that be all?" I ask.
"Yes sir," he says.

He hands me $25.00 and I complete the transaction.

"Thank you," I say. "Have a great day."
"Thanks," he replies. "You too."

As he's headed out the door he suddenly remembers something and turns back around.

"Oh, I need my receipt please."
"No problem," I say.

I hand him his receipt.

"My mother makes me bring her the receipts, to make sure I put all of the money she gives me towards the gas. She doesn't trust me."
"Well that's too bad," I say.
"I don't blame her," he replies. "Last week she caught me only putting $20.00 in when she gave me $30.00."
"Ah! So it's justified, hey?" I ask.
"Oh yeah, totally," he replies.

The Malicious Minority

After reading most of my graveyard blog posts a friend responded (a bit facetiously, I hope): "When I lived in Montana in the 1960s it was a really friendly place; what happened?" Others have said things such as, "How do you put up with that shit every night?"

Fortunately, I don't. An overwhelming majority of customers are super nice people. Many are regulars. I've become friends with a few. I went on a date with one. I recently got drunk with some of them (see: One of THEM! (Again)).

But if I were to write about most of my interactions with customers, it would be something like this: "A really nice person came in and bought stuff. We exchanged in a bit of chit chat and pleasantries. As they were leaving they said, 'Have a good night Dave,' and I replied, 'Thanks, you too.' They rode off into the sunset happy as a spring meadowlark." 

That would be pretty boring.    

One of THEM! (Again)

Last night for the first time in a long time I went to a bar to down a few drinks with a friend. It's a lounge and casino called the Lucky Strike -- stumbling distance from the store where I work. On Sunday nights they have $1.00 well drinks all night. Attractively dangerous.

When I got there it seemed half the folks in the bar were people who often show up at the store after the bars close. Some of them have been pretty obnoxious. Some of them are in my stories.

I was in their lair; I found the nest! I briefly, humorously considered being obnoxious to them on their own turf; but they wouldn't notice -- most were already obnoxiously drunk. So after one-too-many vodka tonics I rapidly assimilated. I was happily obnoxious and got along well with all. I became one of them. Again. (see I Am One of My Stories! (Dude)).

Except I didn't stagger to the store afterwards.

Frozen Turkey Dinners and Free Black Friday Coffee

Nobody camped out in our parking lot or trampled others to get through our doors in the blackness of Friday morning, but it was a surprisingly busy Thanksgiving night. A lot of folks stopped by for wine, beer and cigarettes after the annual, national mastication -- several expressing exasperation with family but most in happy, if not drowsy, post-feast festive modes.

Some people stopped by for dinner.

There was a woman who bought a turkey frozen dinner, potato chips and a bottle of Pepsi on her EBT (food stamp) card. After paying, heating it up in the microwave and eating, I watched her go outside and dig through butts in the ashtray in search of remaining smokeable ones. I went out and gave her a few cigarettes.

"Thank you," she said.
"You're very welcome. Happy Thanksgiving."
"Thank you! You too!"

And off she went.

Soon after a guy pulled up in a new Humvee and broke a $100 bill to purchase a .99 cent Arizona Tea. 

There was a guy who came in for our "two hot dogs and a fountain drink" $3.00 special. He added a bag of Cheetos to it then stood at the back of the store and ate while seemingly staring at me the whole time. When he finally left I cleaned up all the Cheetos and other crumbs he had let fall around his feet and then I began making coffee, lots and lots of coffee.

Free coffee at our store all of Black Friday. Many people stopped by in the wee-darkness of early morning on their way to work at Walmart, Cabela's, Best Buy and other stores. None seemed thrilled about facing the madness, but free coffee cheered a few up. One guy smiled and gave me a "high-five for free coffee!" when I told him there was no charge. (It's the little things.)

One regular custumor was on his way to Home Depot, pretty excited about a special sale on tool boxes. A college student was on his way to purchase a computer at Best Buy. A cop came by in his squad car at 4:45 to fill up on gas and said things were getting pretty crazy at some of the box stores. Another cop stopped by for coffee on his way to assist Walmart with security. A regular customer who works in "asset protection" at Cabela's was dreading the day.     

Although I could sure use the money, and appreciate the time-and-a-half Holiday pay, I don't know why stores are open on Thanksgiving. I don't at all relate to or understand Black Friday. All symptoms of a sick society, the way I see it.

"Why don't people stay home with their families, be thankful and relax instead of venturing out to fight other people over special deals on stuff?" I asked a friend.
"Perhaps it's better to fight with strangers than to stay home and fight with family," he replied.

STUFF Guys Need (for the Love of Healthy Jerky)

There's a guy in line waiting to pay for a package of Duke's Original Angus Beef Jerky. He looks behind him at another guy in line who is waiting to buy Slim Jim Bacon Jerky, Hickory Smoked. 

First Guy: "Dude, you don't want to eat that crap, it's pretty bad for you."
Second Guy: "But I like it . . . What do you have? Is it any better?"
First Guy: "Way better, dude. Way healthier. Check it out."

He shows the guy the Duke's nutrition label:  A one-ounce serving has 50 calories, five calories from fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat and 210 mg of sodium. They compare to Slim Jim (same serving size): 120 calories, 70 from fat, 8 grams of saturated fat and 550 mg of sodium.

First Guy: "Not only that, it's all natural (which is true; it says so on the package) with no artificial ingredients."

So they compare ingredients. Duke's: Soy sauce, 2-percent or less cane syrup, apple juice concentrate and natural flavor. Slim Jim: Sodium phosphate, sodium erythorbate and sodium nitrate.

The package of Duke's says, "For the Love of Jerky."  Slim Jim says, "Made from the STUFF guys need."  The first guy clearly doesn't need sodium phosphate, sodium erythorbate and sodium nitrate. He's a healthy guy. He prefers a more natural brand, for the love of jerky.  Plus, as the first guy points out to the second, "Duke's is made in Boulder, Colorado, dude."  Which is apparently way more "cool" than Omaha Nebraska, where Slim Jim is made ("Redneck Country!," the package says).

Clearly Duke's is the healthier choice (unless you're a cow), and it's $2.00 cheaper.

The first guy is persuasive; the second guy goes back to the jerky aisle and switches Slim Jim for Duke's.

The first guy finally gets to the register and puts his Duke's on the counter.

Me: "Will that be everything for you?"
First Guy: "No, a pack of Marlboro Reds, please."

The Great Mop Flop Flood of 2014

I keep flexible deadlines in my head of when various chores need to be done if I am to complete the entire two-page list of chores before morning: Have the beer cooler stocked and locked by 2:00 am; have the coffee pots, cappuccino machine, pop machine, hot dog machine and various other non-machine things clean by 3:00 am; have at least two pots of coffee ready before 4:00 am for the real early birds, and have the floors mopped and clean by 4:00 am when it's time to do the daily report.

So I had it all mopped up the other night, having mopped my way to the front door where I finished up and moved outside to clean up the parking lot while the floor dried. I was happy this particular night that no one pulled in and tracked up and down every aisle as soon as the mopping was completed and floors still wet, as usually happens. But one guy pulled in just at about 4:00 am as the floors finished drying and I was about to go back inside.

"Bad timing?" he said, as he got out of his car. "Are the floors wet? I can wait until they're dry."
Thank you," I said, "but your timing is perfect! The floors are dry." 

I opened the door for him and as soon as he went in I started pulling the mop bucked back inside -- but it hit the door jam, tipped over and flooded a large portion of the front of the store near the register.

"I guess it's wet again now," I said to the guy.

It wasn't my first mop flop:

When preparing to mop the floor I put a bit of the green cleaner into the mop water from a white plastic container with a green label. There is a similar white plastic container of the same size and shape with a grey label; that is the concrete cleaners. One of the first nights I worked I was in a hurry, tired and inadvertently poured a bit from the grey label into the mop bucked.  It melted the wax on the floor. The floor was sticky for a week -- like walking on a giant fly trap. It had to be re-waxed.

Oops.

As I said in "Private Bing: 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas . . .", before I took this job I hadn't mopped a floor since my Marine Corps days. I'm apparently a bit rusty. 

CAN THE BOBCATS! (and Help the Hungry)

The store where I work, I’m proud to say, is a sponsor and participant of the “Can the Bobcats” Food Bank drive, giving customers the opportunity to donate $1.00 or more to a friendly community rivalry to help the hungry. 

Since 1897 there has been an intense football rivalry, called the “Brawl of the Wild,” between the Montana State University (MSU) Bobcats in Bozeman and the University of Montana (UM) Grizzlies in Missoula. There have been years the game was not played: From 1905-1907 MSU abolished its football program. The game was cancelled in 1911 because of the death of an MSU player. In 1918 the game was not played because of World War I, and was not played from 1942-1945 because of World War II. This coming Saturday, November 22, will be the 113^th Brawl of the Wild. The Grizzlies have thus far won 70 games, the Bobcats have won 37, and five games ended in ties.

For the past 15 years, there has also been an off-field rivalry (called “Can the Griz” in Bozeman, and “Can the Bobcats” in Missoula) to raise much-needed donations and awareness for local Food Banks. Last year, Bozeman “canned the Griz” by gathering 100,937 pounds of food and raising $47,445 in cash for the Gallatin Valley Food Bank. Missoula gathered 54,656 lbs and raised $60,000 in cash for the Missoula Food Bank. 

The real winners, of course, are the estimated one-in-seven people in Montana who struggle with hunger.

I can relate.  A few years ago a combination of economic downturn, personal struggles and unemployment brought me to a point where I could no longer afford even bread, milk or a jar of peanut butter. (See "Helping the Hungry: Missoula Food Bank a Friendly, Helpful, Nourishing Place.") I felt frustrated, desperate, guilty, sad, embarrassed, anxious, stressed and scared all at once - a burdensome bundle of humbling and conflicting emotions. And like many people, I don't particularly like asking for help. That is, until I finally got hungry enough to reluctantly head for the Missoula Food Bank.

There were a diversity of people there of all ages from all walks of life, all in a similar situation as myself. No one is turned down, and it's a pretty friendly place thanks to the helpful volunteers who work there. The place is like a mini grocery store -- several aisles of canned and packaged goods, a frozen foods section, and dairies and produce. I loaded up my shopping cart with bread, beans, chicken, milk, eggs, bacon, cheese, tuna fish, cereal, rice, peanut butter, hot dogs, potatoes, onions, carrots, salad, yogurt, a frozen pre-cooked steak dinner and lots of other good food. After barely stuffing it all in my big backpack, I rode my bike home and enjoyed the best, most healthy meal I had eaten in a long, long time.

The Gallatin Valley Food Bank and the Missoula Food Bank are partner agencies of the Montana Food Bank Network, a statewide private nonprofit working to eliminate hunger in Montana through food acquisition and distribution, education and advocacy. The organization solicits, repackages, stores and transports donated food and distribute it to charitable programs that serve needy families, children and seniors -- distributing food to all 56 counties in the state of Montana and on all seven reservations. They also assess the needs of the hungry and work diligently before the state legislature to raise awareness and seek assistance for those most in need. It's Montana at its finest: farmers, ranchers, food processors, businesses, organizations, politicians, individuals and volunteers all over the state working together to provide safe, healthy, good food for those who need it.

An overwhelming majority of the customers I ask at the store donate a dollar or more to help the Food Bank and “Can the Cats.” Many say they’ve already donated elsewhere.  A dollar may not seem like much, but according to the Montana Food Bank Network, $1.00 enables them to provide three meals to the hungry.

So if a friendly store clerk happens to ask, “Would you like to donate $1.00 to help the Food Bank and ‘Can the Bobcats?’” please say yes!

(To learn more about how you can help, and the locations of donation sites and food drop off locations, please click here: Can the Bobcats.)