I landed my first job as a cashier at Cub Foods, a grocery store widely known in Minnesota and some parts of Illinois. I needed to get a job so I could pay for my gas to and from school my senior year, not to mention it was pretty snazzy to have some extra cash for shit I didn’t need. That was in September of 2010. I didn’t leave until February of this year.

How the actual fuck did I survive that many years at a grocery store?

Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

I’m only kidding. Sort of.

In all honesty, I loved (most) of the people I worked with and still maintain my friendships with them to this day. I just so happened to work my way up into running the service counter, managing the front end, working ridiculously early hours when I was trained as a backup bookkeeper, and I even learned the ins and outs of payroll and scheduling. I was a jack of all trades at my store. Everyone knew who I was and I could get away with a lot of shit because of how much I assisted with anything my managers needed from me.

The gig also offered flexibility, so when I was a student working toward a degree in Video Game Design or spending hours a day freelancing for multiple online publications, it was a good fit. Nonetheless, retail was not a forever job for me. Thankfully, I am now employed at a place that is full of wonderful people and everyday I leave, I feel happy. Working in retail? Oof, the experiences will follow me throughout the rest of my life.

You’ve heard the phrase, right?

“The Customer is Always Right”

Once upon a midnight moon, my store had this radical ham sale going on where it was ridiculously cheap per pound. The catch was that it was only while supplies lasted though. As customer service peeps, we were instructed not to offer substitutes or rain checks, which are basically slips giving customers the right to come back and get that item for the sale price within 30 days if we happened to be out of stock.

Then this 400 pound motherfucker stomps his ass up to the service desk, demanding that he get a rain check for the ham. I told him we weren’t offering rain checks, for the ad reads loud and clear “WHILE SUPPLIES LAST.” This burly man just could not accept that. I believe our conversation went a little something like this:

Blob man: I DEMAND A RAIN CHECK FOR THE HAM!! NEED HAM!!!
Me: I’m sorry, Blob man, but we actually aren’t giving out rain checks because it’s only while supplies last ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Blob man: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER! NEED. HAM!1@#R@
Me: cooliooo my dude, let me grab him for you 🙂
(Grabs manager, who tells him the same fucking thing I did)
Blob man: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR STORE DIRECTOR. NEEEEEED HAAAMMM N@W!
(Grabs store director, who GIVES IN TO THIS PIECE OF SHIT HUMAN AND TELLS ME TO WRITE OUT A RAIN CHECK FOR HIM !!!)
Blob man laughs to himself, wiping the sweat dripping from his forehead, and he looks at me and says with a sly ass smile: it pays to bitch!

It pays to bitch.
It pays to bitch.

If you’ve ever worked in customer service, you understand that I was about to crinkle up that fucking rain check, swish it around in my foaming mouth, and spit-wad his ass into oblivion, but apparently that’s not okay to do? Anyway, I was infuriated because there are so many customers out there just like Blob man who believe they are entitled to whatever they damn well please. The truth is, the customer is never right. The customer is ALWAYS WRONG.

I have been threatened, screamed at, cried to, you name it. My life has been put on the line because Susan’s 50 cent coupon wasn’t applied to her grocery order because she bought the wrong brand.

But you know what? Some days after a shitty day at work, I’d hit the gym and sweat out all of my rage, some days I went straight home and complained about my day to my family, some days I vented to my best friend. I found ways to filter my frustration and then I felt better. Regardless, I survived by not allowing myself to be affected by a customer’s petty actions. Obviously I didn’t enjoy being yelled at, but I also told myself that they must have quite the shitty boring life if they’re whining about something so insignificant.