ClerkTales With Val: The High and the Flighty

Friday, Val was again clerkily challenged. Two of the three cashiers I did business with could have used a job coach to bolster their skills. That is not to say they were unpleasant. They were polite and welcoming. But not quite up to par on the demands of their job.

One guy is fairly new at the Liquor Store. He'd waited on me a couple days previous, and was sweet as pie. I think he might have transferred there from another location. He's really slow, but seems to know what he's doing. I'm pretty sure the reason for his slowness is the inhalation or ingestion of now-legal weed.

Nothing ruffles HighBoy. He has long flowing locks, and an easy-going personality. He eventually gets the job done. The first time he waited on me, I was the only customer in the store. He cashed out my winners, and got my other scratchers. His motions were comparable to being underwater. So slow. He made eye contact, was pleasant, engaged in a little small talk. In addition to my scratchers, I bought a bottle of Hick's whiskey. 

I usually have the exact amount ready for my scratchers, but the cost of whiskey threw me off. I got back some bills, and 93 cents in coins.

"Sorry about that. I usually have correct change."

"Don't you ever apologize to me! I am here to make change. It's fine. Good luck on your tickets. You be safe out there, and enjoy the rest of your evening."

I put the 93 cents in his tip cup. Just because. I figured he could use it more than Hick. I don't deal with change any more, now that I don't get my daily 44 oz Diet Coke.

This time, I paid in exact cash. So no tip. Not because he did anything wrong. He was just so very slow, and there were five people behind me by the time I was done. There had been three ahead of me, and I waited quite a while for that turn. 

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The next clerkily challenged cashier was a new gal at the Backroads Casey's. She was barely into her 20s. Dressed presentably. Long hair pulled back out of her face. Polite. But barely able to do the job. I think it was more a case of being new, rather than not caring or being incapable.

I asked for my scratchers by number. Paid cash, so she didn't even have to scan any winners. At least she laid them down face-up on the counter as she scanned them. I saw right away that she had given me a $3 bingo ticket in place of the $3 Froot Loot that I had asked for. I pointed that out. She pleasantly put the bingo back in the case, and got my Froot Loot. Yet when she rang it up, the fee was $3 over what it should have been.

"No, that's $3 too much. See? You've forgotten to take off the bingo ticket you put back."

NewGal corrected the register. I paid her with exact cash. She apologized, but I told her it was not a problem, that I just wanted the tickets I had asked for. Not a big deal.

Yesterday, I was back in the Backroads Casey's. I waited in line at the right register, which is next to the display of scratchers. NewGal was working at the left register. She was finished with her customer, and had nobody. Yet I waited in the right line. She caught my eye and nodded her head that I could move to her register.

"Sorry. I can't see the lottery numbers from over there. I'm fine."

She gave me the thumbs-up. No malice. I was not avoiding her. I'm sure she would have done fine this time, IF I could have seen the ticket numbers to tell her what I wanted.

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It was a relief to get to the Gas Station Chicken Store, to interact with my favorite cashier. She has been there for years, off and on, and is always cheerful and efficient. The others will eventually get to that point, I think...

Politeness and a pleasant attitude can make up for less-than-perfect service.