Bread, Eggs, and Cans that Squash it All

"Hello do you have your card?"
Old men that can't hear. People who killed a tree to save money with coupons. People who throw money at you because they can't let go of it. People who reach into God knows where to retrieve their money and cell phones. People who ask for double paper or paper in plastic, or to bag gallons of milk, or to price check something over a .20 cent difference. These are all events that my job entails. Ghetto-fab should be in the subtitle in the supermarket I work for. I stand in the supermarket relentlessly beeping things past a scanner for an average of five hours a day.
Fullfilling, doesn't even describe the opposite of what this is. In the time that I stand on my feet, observing all walks of human life I sing songs in my head, I think of new things to write, new things to read, and just how damn lucky I am, first to have a job, and second, to be me. At least I'm not buying oreos and cigarettes and wearing overalls right? If that is what I have to make myself feel a bit better, so be it. Who knows those people smoking cigarettes and eating junk food that the government pays for might know something I don't. But I'm not to sure I want to listen to what they have to say, because that would involve actually caring. Which I can't anymore for reasons to be explained. Can you get fired for telling a customer to fuck off if your off duty? Think about it and get back to me.