Thursday, August 27, 2020

Val's Ample Rumpus is Always Under Surveillance

I'd put that Casey's encounter on the back burner. There are a variety of clerks there, and I'd been getting a polite young gal who calls me "Hon," or the older lady missing a tooth who is always friendly, even though she takes her sweet time. Yep. I'd forgotten all about that accusatory manager gal, until Wednesday.

One customer was ahead of me. I stood on my 6-foot circle, squinting to see the numbers on the scratchers. I recognized the scratchers by their color and general location. But the little number dots were out of focus to my near-sighted, unglassesed peepers. It's always good to have your "order" memorized when you step up to the counter. Not that Casey's is run like a certain New York soup stand, of course...

With my tickets committed to memory, I let my eyes roam, and saw a PENNY under the counter, in front of the feet of the customer ahead of me. She seemed oblivious, so I was pretty sure I'd be adding to my Future Pennyillionaire Fortune. That always puts me in a good mood.

When it was my turn, I handed my winning scratchers to a young gal I've only seen once before. She had on a colorful, fruity-print mask, and was a cheery little thing.

"What can I get you?"

"I'm trading in these winners. I'd like a number 2 and a 7 and a 10."

As she was scanning my winners, I took a picture of MY rightful penny! Then I bent over to get a close-up. Mid-snap, I heard

"Is something wrong blah-blah blah blahber?"

HUH? Where did THAT come from? I looked at the Cheery Clerk, tearing off my tickets.

"What? I couldn't hear you."


What in the Not-Heaven? She didn't look at me. I caught movement straight behind the counter, in the office area. My nemesis, The Problem Shouter, was leaning around the door frame. Was it HER? With all this mask-wearing, I couldn't see anybody's lips moving. Couldn't tell who was talking, or to whom. The evil eyes of The Problem Shouter led me to believe it was HER. I also noticed that she'd been facing the surveillance monitor. It was almost as if a couple of casinos had called to tip her off that I was on my way!

"Gum counter? No. I found a penny on the floor. I collect them. I was taking a picture..."

With that, I scooched the penny out with my toe, and bent over to pick it up, dropping it in my shirt pocket while meeting her laser-beam eyes.

There's no law against that, right? A penny on the floor is fair game. It's common knowledge. Like tie goes to the runner. First smeller's the feller. JINX, you owe me a Coke. Two for flinchin'.

The Problem Shouter stared me down until Cheery Clerk stepped over to ring up my tickets, and blocked her view. Apparently, nobody there has received customer service training since my last PROBLEM.

Makes me wonder why she's so paranoid...


  1. I doubt she had an iota of training. She seems like one of these people that once put in charge, abuses the position. She is being so picky with you. One more time, and I would have to say something to someone!

    1. I don't like to complain. You know, to be a PROBLEM! I'm more likely to backtalk her if it happens again. Get snotty right back. Of course, then I'd avoid the place for a while, heh, heh!

      It makes me wonder if she treats the employees like that. The woman owner of the Gas Station Chicken Store does that, but she is overly nice to the customers. And it IS her store, after all. But I feel sorry for some employees when they're getting chewed out. That should be in private.

  2. Replies
    1. I've probably been under surveillance for quite a while! What's next, having a strand of fishing line tied to my rightful penny, to yank it away when I reach for it?

  3. Maybe she thought you were a spy setting a bug so the gubmint could listen in to what goes on there. Which now makes me wonder what has she got to hide?

    1. More likely, she thought I WAS STEALING GUM! Or taking a picture of the dirty floor underneath. Which I kind of DID, but it's not like I'm going to call Corporate to complain. Not when it gives me such good blog fodder.

      I'm guessing she's insecure about her job, and was afraid I was a secret shopper out to get her.

  4. Yep, she fancies you to be a secret shopper, there to score the store and her. I had a job once as a secret shopper. It pays well and I found it to be stimulating to know that my comments would have an effect.

    1. I'm pretty sure you would have done that job for free, just because of your comments having the power to change something!