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A Report! From Inside The Walls of Mallmart

The colorful shores of Okaloosa County were blasted with 200 watts of 90s rock as a car zoomed down the road. Its course is clear, and the movement precise, as they turn into the Mallmart parking lot. I gaze up at the sign, and those old, dingy faded signs plastered up on the sides of the store, a Arched wings over a carcass on the top of the building. I ignore the warnings, and press on, because this is the story of Taylor Peyton.

The back rooms were bleak, and Taylor dreaded them whenever she entered the building. The porosity of wood fibers in the cardboard sucked any and all moisture out of the air, she knew this was fact. It  left her throat dry and sore as if she had swallowed glass. The lights were dim and flickering. She was always terrified of being crushed between moving shelves as she scanned products.That awful ringing, from the emergency alarms that everyone just ignored… In a nutshell, it was sensory hell. What could she do? Just sit there and endure? No, that wasn’t her style. While she was here, she might as well get to the bottom of the oddities that were happening here in their little town. The only thing was, how much of it was really happening, and how much of it was in her head? A bit unsettled, she pulled something from her bag, and with a piece of Mallmart standard tape, she set up a sanrio calendar, there at the beginning of the home merchandise shelves. With what little of her surroundings she could control, she was resolved to change them for the better. The cartoon frog stared back at her with a pointed smile. ‘It’s May already…’ That meant that Taylor had been here in Okaloosa County for a total of four months. Four months, since she had left Arizona. With everything that had happened, she had hardly noticed that she had stayed for so long. She heaves another box onto her cart, deep in contemplation. 

In fact, it’s nearly 9 o’clock when the emergency alarm sounded overhead, dragging her from her thoughts abruptly. It was time for her first mandatory 15 minute break. Right… Taylor took a step in the direction of the breakroom, only to find her feet slide from under her. She stumbled, catching herself on the side of a shelf for support. There, on the concrete floors was the budding of condensation. The walls of Mallmart were alive, sweating in the spiking heatwave that was cast on Okaloosa Island. This fascinated Taylor because the air conditioning was regulated to keep the store at a consistent temperature, and yet the amount of moisture seemed nearly impossible that was collecting on the ground. It wasn’t exactly ‘fleshless humanoid speaking in tongues’ but this was a good start, as far as investigations go. In fact, Taylor would dare say she found herself eager at the prospect of finding answers to why Mallmart was as odd as it was. She had to find someone. Anyone who'd accompany her. Tiptoeing around taking notes on their company while Mallmart’s overseer loomed close nearby made her nervous, to say the least. Her first thought was ‘Ciara’, but as she glanced down the hall she could see I was busy directing the new trainees. That left one other person she knew would be down for this impromptu investigation- Aiden. Even better, he was rarely busy or as engrossed in his work so this would not take much convincing. All she needed to do was find him. 

Logically, she knew there were only three places she’d be likely to find Aiden. One place was the toy and game department, where he was often assigned to. That was often later in the day though. He could be hiding in the breakroom, getting a headstart on his 15 minute break, but somehow, she didn’t think that was the case either. That only left one place.

“Aiden! Hey, look up!” Those sunglasses donned eyes looked up from his phone, as he stood in the cosmetics section. He had not yet put the false eyelashes or press on nails behind their locked glass case (As they were recently announced highly dangerous items). “I need your help for something. Something important.” 

“Huh?”

“I need to find out where the air conditioning is controlled in the store first, and then, I need to figure out where there’s a temperature irregularity because something is fluctuating and causing high levels of moisture in the store.” She explained. “Isn’t that like, management’s job?” Taylor stared at him, not even amused. “Are you going to help or not?”

“....Yeah, I’m coming..” With that, our heroes were off on their quest to the heart of the store.

 Sure enough, the refrigerated grocery area of the store was significantly more cool, but that did not explain, why on the opposite wing, deep in the backrooms where it seemed to have low humidity, there was moisture slicking every surface. “We need to take our break, we’ll end up getting in trouble. I don’t know about you, but I think getting in trouble for doing more work is a stupid way to end up in re education for real.” 

“Just one moment,”  Taylor stared at the air vent desperately trying to blow out cold air. “This is going to lead somewhere in the back, I know it.” Her eyes  followed along the ceiling towards the grocery wing of the backrooms. Wordlessly, she pushes ahead despite the protests of her now exasperated sidekick. Deep in the back of the store is a room labeled, “Technical Control” It is where the lighting is managed, and power generator, and probably, the temperature of Mallmart. “If I could just take a look in there, I could get a rough idea of what we’re dealing with,” She thinks aloud. “No dude, you aren’t breaking into there. That’s just… no.” 

“Where is your sense of adventure?” She chides him, her voice flat and marvelously devoid of emotion. “Wait, someone is coming-” and in that moment, they both panicked, ducking behind the black plastic waste bins at the end of the room. 

"I already paid you more than enough to cover the costs. This will end here, and you will not contact me at this establishment anymore." The man's voice was gritted and harsh. "Had I not given you the sweat of my brow? Have I not given you everything you desired? And you've gone cold to me, with all that money, all that power-"

"Final warning."  

With a huff, the man left our overseer disheveled and running his fingers through his hair. One question was buzzing through everyone's minds, 'If he had all this money and power, why stay with a place like Mallmart?'

A Report! From Inside The Walls of Mallmart

'Guess what coworker decided to show up wearing a non-Mallmart logo on their shirt and got in trouble with management?At least he didn't show up late again, but see, I told him not to do this and what does he do? Does he not heed my warnings?'

I type angrily into my phone, exhausted by my long day. The discord server is quiet. 

'I was the only one that stayed after to put out the dairy section when management came asking. Everyone suddenly had an emergency reason they had to leave.

I got it done though.'

'Going the extra mile for the benefit of a job that only seeks to exploit your labor is not noble. They do not appreciate your hard work Ciara, they appreciate how cheap it is to employ you. Don't push yourself to the limit to appease them when they can't even be arsed to provide water during a heatwave in return,'

The reply, was not as surprising as I felt it should be. No instead, it just confirmed something laying dormant in the back of my head for the last few weeks. I thought about how management shut off the water to the breakroom. 

"We're having work done on it for the benefit of our wonderful employees. On an unrelated note, some of you have been taking too many coffee breaks in our breakroom when you should be working, so from now on we encourage you to be mindful of that. That is not why we shut off the water. Please stop asking".

I thought about when Taylor had overheard that conversation, I thought about how Aiden had gotten points taken off for missing work even though he had called and explained he had been in a car accident. The writing was on the wall,

 I need to do something.

A Report! From Inside The Walls of Mallmart

This is the part where I was supposed to storm up to management and give them my 3 week notice and maybe, a piece of my mind…. Except I didn't. I wanted everything to be normal, so I could get the work done until I got my degree, move out, and become someone who actually had their life together. Mallmart was the only place in my life I had competence in, and if I gave it up, that meant starting from square one, still at home with my parents. 

And that meant that every little insult my father threw at me, I would not be able to refute. This man, I can’t explain his hold on me. I can’t explain why his opinion still matters despite me knowing that we will never be on the same page. I tried to take the power back with small petty acts but in truth, there was no real defending myself from him. He dominated any room he walked into with just his voice. He was always bigger than me,  and I was always so weak and small. There was no fighting back.

I went to work with my own water I brought from home, since I'm pretty sure the water from the eyewash station's tap was doctored with saline. I was surprised how easy it was to fall into my routine, actually. The trainees that were on that day actually retained the previous information I had given them only days ago, and now the hive of our store was buzzing with life. 

“Thank goodness, you’re finally wearing an appropriate outfit to work today,” I take a seat with Aiden at the breakroom table. His head is in his folded arms, hair splayed wildly about him, like a mane. He says nothing. “You were able to finish checking out topstock items in the starting aisles of pharmacy, riiiight? We have a quota we’re trying to reach here, Gossman.” He’s dead still, not a word uttered from him. “Not in a talking mood, huh?” Without picking his head up, he replies back with “I don’t want to deal with you shit today, Shoggoth.” 

Oh.

I look around the room awkwardly, and realize that none of my coworkers are happy with me. This is okay though. I am here to work, not make friends. I gaze over Aiden’s deathly pale body. “Have you had anything to drink?” No response. I want to press him more on the issue and yet, our mandatory fifteen minute break is over. “Aiden, it’s time to get to work.” He makes no move to get up. He’s slumped in his seat, defeated. Even as I retreat to the door, he remains still, ignoring any of the cues before him that it is time for us to work. “Ciara! Several people have unexpectedly left, so we will need you to take on Health and Beauty as well as the chemical department. We need those along with sporting goods done today, okay?” Rosa asks, and I nod, still taken aback by Aiden’s concerning behavior. 

So I keep my head down, and I work. I put out the boxes that have been left abandoned on the sales floors, I help customers who need any of our more dangerous items that are locked behind cases, I even take the time to fish out the products that have fallen between shelves despite the many warnings of workers being crushed by shelving units in the past. The only thing that was propelling me forward was the mantra of,

‘I am here to work, not make friends. I am here to work, not make friends. I am here to work, not make friends,’

‘I am going to die alone’

I suck in a sharp breath, skidding to a halt. It didn’t matter if I was experiencing the crippling realization that I had driven everyone away though. It was now time to clock out. 

And so I retired my cart to the grocery end of backrooms, and let out a soft groan as I tugged myself free of my work vest. I felt eyes on me. “Oh, it’s you.” I didn’t mean for my voice to sound flat, when I saw management and the team leads standing there. “Congratulations, Ciara. We noticed your dedication to our store and you have gone above and beyond this last month to get Mallmart to reach its deadline for our summer season.” Their voices lacked enthusiasm, and it sounded rehearsed. Still, I was over the moon. So they had noticed the effort I had put in? “You are this month’s associate of the month. Again, we thank you.” And in their hand, they held something… rectangular? And mint in color. Curiously I walked forward and….

In their hands sat a lone case of spearmint tic tacs. “Go on, you’ve earned it.” I reached out and looked at the tic tacs in my hand. “Tomorrow, we will need you to set up the lawn chair display in the gardening aisle-”

“I don’t work on Thursday, I thought.” They guide me by my shoulders, out of the backrooms. 

“On friday, we mean of course. We will also need you to put out the next stock of our  one hundred pound weight set, since the other associates need three people to carry the box when you are able to carry it yourself.”

“...I don’t even like spearmint…” I croak, voice thick with tears. I won’t cry in front of management though. “Good, we knew you’d understand, see you tomorrow!” And with that, I had reached the exit doors of the backrooms and I was now spat out into the sales floor.

 I head to the front of the store in a grim determination, because I need control over something. I head to the front of the store because I am hurt, and I need some way to express it. I look into the screen of the overhead surveillance as if I can look straight into the eyes of management through that crackling screen, good and long, and I chuck the tic tacs into the wastebin before heading out the door, my lips tight.

A Report! From Inside The Walls of Mallmart

"It smells like dark matter!" A voice exclaims from the next aisle over. A young voice, that brings me back to when I was that young. "Nuh uh! Dark matter can't have a smell, stupid!" 

"Can too!" The two kids trail behind their mother, deeply engaged in this conversation. I turn back to the tooth brushes I have been stocking on shelves for the last 10 minutes. Because this is a story about a Mallmart Associate.

I'd like to say I hold the same fire that I had before, whenever things started going wrong at Mallmart. Clearly this isn't a normal retail experience, right? It became the new normal though. The flickering lights, the viscous goo that appeared in aisles, the emergency alarms always going off felt normal now, and I had lost my fighting spirit. Luckily for me, Taylor had enough for the both of us. "I got the contact information of the man the overseer was talking to last Saturday," she explained to me, seeming in high spirits for someone who had only weeks ago been distraught over their understanding of reality being broken. It's something I don't understand, and yet still admire.

"I know it's a bit of a stretch, but it's the only lead I got and something about their conversation seemed…off." She does not go on to explain why it felt off. She's looking at me expectantly. "Oh! Hey there was a trail of translucent goo in hba, I got a photo of it for you!" Taylor gazes into my dim phone screen, and nods. "At least it wasn't the- black ink stuff? Whatever that was."

There's an awkward silence between us, and it occurs to me that we don't talk about much outside of Hellmart, as Taylor has wittily called it.

"You know, I've been thinking lately. Does death even exist? Like, maybe it's just a movement of consciousness,"

"Oh, so like quantum immortality?" I know I peaked her interest, when she looks at me like that.

"Yes, exactly that. Like what I'm saying is, what if our consciousness exists outside of the boundaries of things like time and space? What if we don't end with these bodies we wield?" She seems to ponder this for a second, and says, "Well, that's unsettlingly cryptic, as usual. I was hoping we'd get to talk about parallel universes, but I might have to sit back and think on how I want to answer that for a moment…"

"Actually, speaking of that I wonder if there's a version of us that exists out there that doesn't work at this…wonderful store," I finish, lamely. Taylor cuts into me with her eyes. "I hope whatever version of us that is, that we still feel how we do about each other." It's vulnerable, and honest, and it burns to hear. I don't ask what she means because I'm too afraid to push things. "I hope so too, Taylor."

Mallmart still had tricks up its sleeves, however. The home department encompassed so many products that if you didn't know where an item went, it was safe to say that it probably belonged in our home department. One such product was our mirrors, the full length type that is cheaply made in mass. The type that you hang on doors to get a full body view of yourself.

 I cut into the box, running the blade along its taped seams and opening it with haste. The smell-

God the smell. It was like infected flesh mixed with…decay? I don't know what was happening in those warehouses, but everyday mirrors should not smell so ungodly. Was it the box? Had something spilled on it? And how many boxes in the back rooms had this disgusting quality to it? And yet, there seemed to be no stains indicating such. The box sat in pristine condition. I pulled those mirrors out of the box and struggled with them, trying to keep them stable in my grasp.

Because not only were they disgusting smelling, but they were bendable. They sagged in my grip, leaving me completely dumbfounded by how weightless and malleable they were. So when I was fighting to put the remaining ones in topstock, I was taken by surprise when I saw an odd, stilted movement out of the corner of my eye. There at the back of an aisle was myself, walking backwards down the aisle in an odd jilted way that left the hair standing on the back of my neck. Her skin was pale, her mouth wide and face so recognizably me. 'My phone, I have to get a picture of this for my blog!' I fumbled with my pockets, knowing Taylor would want me to get a photo of this. That my friends would want a photo of this. Hell, I wanted a photo of it just to appease the part of me saying none of this could be real. In my haste a mirror fell from topstock and reached out in reflex, going to take a step down from the cart. Gravity shifted as I fell from the ladder of my cart, landing straight down onto my ankle in a gut churning crunch.

Workers Compensation, with Madame Macabre!

Here at Mallmart, we take our employees' health very seriously. If an employee is injured on the job, they have 12 hours to complete a form and send it in to management to be reviewed. Failure to complete the form in the allotted time means relinquishing your worker compensation benefits. Mallmart also encourages you to spend 5 minutes doing Mallmart approved stretches in front of the surveillance cameras, before you start your shift. This also comes in handy for management when checking the surveillance. Remember, if you have not completed your stretches before shift, this means relinquishing worker compensation benefits! 

I let out a guttural shout of pain, immediately dropping to a crouch in order to grab my ankle as it throbbed and pulsed against my grasp. Is it broken? My breath staggered as I felt around it. No, no… it was not broken, just terribly sore. Through my tears I saw a figure standing over me, and I took off my glasses to wipe away the moisture to see,

"Ma'am, do you have the keys to the case with the press on nails?"  The lady was stout and blonde, and what I had witnessed just moments ago was long gone, leaving only the mundane horrors of retail in its wake. "I don't have all day!"

"Oh … okay, one moment…"

When I limped back to the break room, Aiden and Taylor were talking. "No really, I can make smoke! Watch!" With that, he breathes in, cheeks puffed out. His tongue clicks in his mouth, and his jaw clicks. Taylor leans in intently, and then… He blows smoke out of his lips. "Oh! I wonder if this is related to air pressure," Taylor muses, head deep in wonder as I take a seat next to them. "Yeah, it must be a great trick to show at parties," I mumble, a bit dismissively. "Dude, I really should. I mean, I can also play the guitar. Only Wonderwall though." 

"Only Wonderwall…" I repeat back, whatever I was going to say was interrupted however. Aiden's phone chimes, and he reaches into his pocket, and checks his phone. "Oh, I guess we don't have to worry about Kyle spitting in our food at Whataburger… because the dude is missing, and the police are looking for him," Aiden mutters, stuffing the phone in his pocket. I'm a bit surprised by his nonchalant attitude. 

"Wait, what? Who's Kyle?"

"Oh, he's a friend of mine, dude was awesome, he wasn't afraid of anything. He'd throw a strawberry milkshake on the grill before he made your burger if he was mad at you-" Aiden laughed.

I shuddered, and before thinking I said, "That's exactly what I fear whenever I order food,"

"Well you won't have to worry about that anymore," the conversation fell dead silent. "Do you think he may have left on his own? Hopefully he's okay…" 

"Nah, that ain't Kyle. He would've told someone. He would've told me..." He was troubled by this, and it became clear that he was more convincing himself of something. Something that he never finished the thought of, rather than convincing us. I couldn't say anything, how could you? So in that moment, I silently watched Aiden, wishing I could convey that I wished him well. 

"Dear, can you tell me where the Pantene shampoo is?" I look over at the lady who is speaking to me. She sits in a mobility scooter, her hair tied back into a neat bun, and her eyes alight behind her vintage cateye glasses. "That would be aisle 27 of our cosmetics section." I smiled, giving my best customer service voice. "And do you carry Ivory bar soap? I've been looking everywhere but I can't find any bar soap!"

"Oh, that would be on aisle 16, on the bottom shelf-"

"Can you show me? Please? Like walk me over to exactly where it is." She looks at me, pleadingly. This is the part where I should give you the 411 on Mallmart etiquette, and politely refuse the old woman.  I wasn't supposed to walk people to items or help them as they shopped. You would think this would count as the job description, but the rules were specific on what counted  as job description, and what counted as wasting company time  Mallmart strives for efficiency. Helping a customer to that extent was considered inefficient. "Okay, right down here." And then I was breaking the rules, walking down aisle 27 to show her where the shampoo was. "Oh, here it is! But where is the recovery shampoo? I'm certain it's called recovery. They must not have it." I glance over at her puzzled frown, and begin raking over the shelves with my eyes, looking for anything that said 'recovery'. "Could this be it, mrs?" She squints to read the label while I anxiously glance around, worried I will get caught by management. The amount of people I've seen get pulled away to be spoken to over exactly this was unnerving. "Why yes, it is! Now the ivory soap, please!" I knew she wanted me to walk her over to it, and yet… Well, no one seemed to be around to stop me. "Right this way, Mrs." 

The lights overhead buzzed as I stepped into aisle 16, looking at the bottom shelves. "Our bar soap is on the bottom shelf here, however…I believe the space where the ivory soap, is empty,"

"Oh no!" She sounded heartbroken at this, as she stared at me. "Can you check the back? Please? It's for my mother, she only gets ivory soap." Stock workers are not supposed to take from the back, because they are not a picked item for shelves. "Let me check if it's in stock, first." I say, getting out my work phone. The truth is, I knew it was in stock, but I needed time to think of a way to let her down easy. Unfortunately for me, no such idea came to my mind. "It looks like it's in stock, so if you wait here one moment, I will attempt to find it. I am very sorry for the wait." And stiltedly I walked. I walked out of the health and beauty department, through the home department, and then into the backrooms. Eyes were always watching. So, nervously, I went to the back aisle in the hba back rooms looking over the products. I was going to pick an item and mark it as picked despite it not being ready, which of course, went against Mallmart's core values.

You're probably wondering why I'm going to all this trouble for a stranger. You're probably thinking, of all times for me to go against company rules, this was strange. She reminded me of someone, back from before I ever moved to Okaloosa County. Someone that, if she was still alive, I'd want the same respect granted to her.

I emerged from back rooms victorious, limping and bruised, and having survived the treacherous back rooms with their moving shelves and sweating floors. And by the time I had gotten back to hba, I was not only out of breath, but it was nearly time to clock out. "I am sorry for the wait, is this the product?" I'm trying not to show how badly my ankle still hurts, as I fidget slightly in place. "That's it! Yes! Yes!" She's clapping. "Oh you have been an absolute godsend, darling! You have been perfect!" She sets the product in the basket, her grin wide. I feel taken aback, but before I have time to regain composure, she surprises me again. Shakily, she moves to stand, bracing herself on the machine as she steps out. She outstretches her arms, and closes the space between us. "Mrs, what-"

You aren't supposed to hug with customers. It's…against the company rules. I'm not supposed to allow this. "Thank you so much," she whispers into my ear, before she lets me go, wobbling back over to her seat, and then leaving me alone in the aisle, sniffling. No one has ever called me perfect before. I've never been a help to anyone. She was so happy though. I had gone and did the one thing I was sure would get me the ire of management, and now I was uncertain why I ever let myself get consumed by them so thoroughly. I'd forgotten what matters most; people.

I cried for the second time that day.

wrapping up all my pretty little ceramics with paper while preparing to move, and I cannot help but think of this one Customer Moment I has while cashiering

When someone bought something delicate, we had these big sheets of paper kept by our registers to wrap the item with—the idea here being to provide a padded buffer between say, a fragile champagne flute and the outside world since all the items are still going into flimsy plastic bags at the end of the purchase, presumably to be tossed in the back of a car with a bunch of other bags of stuff. (This is in the U.S., so cashiers also typically bag your items for you, virtually everyone has a car, and you usually do big shopping trips where you buy a ton of stuff at once instead of several small trips throughout the month.)

This man got a BUNCH of glass candle holders and mugs. Okay! No worries, I’m chatting with him, ringing them up, trying to wrap and bag all this glass and pottery expeditiously, and he is just not conversing. He is frowning at my hands. Eventually he has had enough because, after responding to not a single thing I’ve said, he goes “You’re doing TERRIBLE job wrapping these!” and TAKES AWAY the bag I was packing to start PULLING OUT THE MUGS and rewrap them himself.

And here’s the thing. I have wrapped each item to cushion them. I have crinkled and fluffed the paper to provide CUSHION, so when the GLASS bangs against the OTHER GLASS, it won’t, you know, SHATTER.

THIS MAN. This man REWRAPS each item with the paper as TIGHTLY as possible, effectively making the entire wrapping process POINTLESS. I let him wrap the rest and say nothing because I am just. Baffled. Like, he made it so clear with his behavior and words he thought I was a lazy idiot and here he was, determined I guess to break all the things he was purchasing and very convinced he was burdened with righting my egregious minimum wage worker sin. TRULY the quintessential experience in customer audacity. 😭

wrapping up all my pretty little ceramics with paper while preparing to move, and I cannot help but think of this one Customer Moment I has while cashiering

When someone bought something delicate, we had these big sheets of paper kept by our registers to wrap the item with—the idea here being to provide a padded buffer between say, a fragile champagne flute and the outside world since all the items are still going into flimsy plastic bags at the end of the purchase, presumably to be tossed in the back of a car with a bunch of other bags of stuff. (This is in the U.S., so cashiers also typically bag your items for you, virtually everyone has a car, and you usually do big shopping trips where you buy a ton of stuff at once instead of several small trips throughout the month.)

This man got a BUNCH of glass candle holders and mugs. Okay! No worries, I’m chatting with him, ringing them up, trying to wrap and bag all this glass and pottery expeditiously, and he is just not conversing. He is frowning at my hands. Eventually he has had enough because, after responding to not a single thing I’ve said, he goes “You’re doing TERRIBLE job wrapping these!” and TAKES AWAY the bag I was packing to start PULLING OUT THE MUGS and rewrap them himself.

And here’s the thing. I have wrapped each item to cushion them. I have crinkled and fluffed the paper to provide CUSHION, so when the GLASS bangs against the OTHER GLASS, it won’t, you know, SHATTER.

THIS MAN. This man REWRAPS each item with the paper as TIGHTLY as possible, effectively making the entire wrapping process POINTLESS. I let him wrap the rest and say nothing because I am just. Baffled. Like, he made it so clear with his behavior and words he thought I was a lazy idiot and here he was, determined I guess to break all the things he was purchasing and very convinced he was burdened with righting my egregious minimum wage worker sin. TRULY the quintessential experience in customer audacity. 😭

wrapping up all my pretty little ceramics with paper while preparing to move, and I cannot help but think of this one Customer Moment I has while cashiering

When someone bought something delicate, we had these big sheets of paper kept by our registers to wrap the item with—the idea here being to provide a padded buffer between say, a fragile champagne flute and the outside world since all the items are still going into flimsy plastic bags at the end of the purchase, presumably to be tossed in the back of a car with a bunch of other bags of stuff. (This is in the U.S., so cashiers also typically bag your items for you, virtually everyone has a car, and you usually do big shopping trips where you buy a ton of stuff at once instead of several small trips throughout the month.)

This man got a BUNCH of glass candle holders and mugs. Okay! No worries, I’m chatting with him, ringing them up, trying to wrap and bag all this glass and pottery expeditiously, and he is just not conversing. He is frowning at my hands. Eventually he has had enough because, after responding to not a single thing I’ve said, he goes “You’re doing TERRIBLE job wrapping these!” and TAKES AWAY the bag I was packing to start PULLING OUT THE MUGS and rewrap them himself.

And here’s the thing. I have wrapped each item to cushion them. I have crinkled and fluffed the paper to provide CUSHION, so when the GLASS bangs against the OTHER GLASS, it won’t, you know, SHATTER.

THIS MAN. This man REWRAPS each item with the paper as TIGHTLY as possible, effectively making the entire wrapping process POINTLESS. I let him wrap the rest and say nothing because I am just. Baffled. Like, he made it so clear with his behavior and words he thought I was a lazy idiot and here he was, determined I guess to break all the things he was purchasing and very convinced he was burdened with righting my egregious minimum wage worker sin. TRULY the quintessential experience in customer audacity. 😭