Another Work Blog
Yea, 3 blogs a night, I know its a little steep.
Occasionally, when I'm working at register at Pamida, I'll get a creepy old dude. Now, this by itself isn't really that big of a deal. Except sometimes, instead of handing me the exact change they're paying like a normal person (that was a sweet joke right there), they hold the money out in their palm.
sparks: "That'll be 88 cents, sir."
customer: *gestures with open palm*
sparks: "88 cents."
customer: *gestures with palm*
Yea, like I'm gonna reach over and grab the change out of your hand. I read your fucking book, Stephen King, I know what happens when you grab stuff out of people's hand. First off, he'll move his lightning quick old-man reflexes to grab my hand, while his eyes turn yellow.
customer: "I gotcha, JACKY!"
Then some weird shit would probably happen, and I'd probably have to walk to California or some shit to make it all better.
I think not, creepy old dude. You can put your goddamn change on the counter.