Argghghhgh

All right. Wal-Mart can go union itself. God, that was the worst nine hours of my life. Six of those were spent bagging, which is really only half of the cashiering duties. Then, I was supervised by a trained cashier for all of, like, fifteen minutes and then sent into the wolves to fend for myself. The weirdest shit happened, of course, when I was by myself and the snarky manager wasn't around to help. There was a lotion bottle with a barcode without numbers. It wouldn't scan. I got the rest of the items, and asked the manager. She informs me that she has never seen a barcode like that, and proceeds to take ten minutes to hunt down the lotion aisle, and come back and say the rest of them are the same and why don't we ring it up at $4.90?

Then, as it pains me to write, the next folk were WIC customers. But they had to make it complicated. The first half of their stuff was non-WIC. First of all, I didn't know how to WIC. Then, they proceeded to show me three different WIC checks, for three different sets of WIC items.

I can't even think about this right now. Suffice it to say, I was hot and flushed and embarassed that I couldn't figure this stupid register out. I know that I'm going to be remembered as that stupid cashier trainer that couldn't figure out anything.

P.S. They didn't tell me how to: void anything, print out a receipt, take checks, scan in multiple items, or what to do about items without barcodes. Poor, poor training.

Oh, I was in the office looking at the binders while waiting for someone and I saw a multi-colored one titled "Personne". I was like "hmm. . . in French 'personne' means 'no one'." I meditated on that for awhile and felt very existential when I realized that the final 'L' just blended in to the yellow part and really said "personnel". Then I just felt dumb.

It wasn't a good day for the old self-esteem.

And all of them were pregnant and had children which they would talk about on their lunch break, with me visibly and painfully not involved in the conversation.