Cafe Days

I’m on my way to work, and my stomach is turning flip-flops.  I hate my job.  I don’t like retail.  I don’t like people.  I used to love people before I saw all of the ugliness that comes with a cash register mistake, or a bag of popcorn that isn’t quite hot enough.  Sometimes I have to laugh rather than cry.  I’ve gotten to the point where I see people as curious creatures who will surely do something during the course of the day to further add to my dislike for them.  I’m not even a mean person, mind you.  Most people who know me would describe me as sweet natured, kind-hearted, and giving.  Heck, my nick name is goody two shoes. 

Still, my job brings out the inner witch in me.  I don’t outwardly express my inner witch, mind you.  After all, I want to keep my job.The saving grace of my job is the vast array of stories my co-workers and I share with one another. Every day, one of us is saying, “Let me tell you about this crazy customer I had.”  And so it continues.

Heck, maybe you are one of the crazy customers I wait on in the café at my job.  If you are, I heartily apologize if you are offended in any way by my ramblings here.  A girl has to vent sometimes.  After all, you wouldn’t want me to go postal, would you?  Or perhaps the name for that is different if you work in a café.  I’ll have to ponder that one.

Anyway, if you think I’m exaggerating, let me tell you about a few of my customers.  There is one lady who comes to the café almost every other day asking for a sample of popcorn.  She says she wants to see if it is too salty.  So I give her a sample every other day, and every other day it is always too salty for her so she doesn’t buy any.  I tell her that we make our popcorn the exact same way every single day.  It is not going to be any less salty today than it was yesterday.  I don’t tell her, but face it. We are not changing our recipe for her because the other 99% of the people who buy our popcorn rave about it.  Still she continues to come by.  I’m convinced this is simply her way of getting her salty popcorn fix without having to pay for it.

Then there is the customer who decides it is time to clean the change out of the bottom of her purse when there is a line of people behind her waiting to order.  They stand there, rolling their eyes, and I’m smiling at them as if to say, “I feel your pain.  I’m so sorry.”  So I stand there and wait…and wait as she takes her sweet time. She’ll lay 5 pennies on the counter, and then a quarter, and then a nickel, and then more pennies. She’ll check to see if she has any buffalo nickels because she collects those and doesn’t want to accidentally pay with one of them. On and on it goes until she has the exact change for her hot dog purchase.  Is it that hard to keep your change in a coin purse, or even a ziplock bag, for heaven’s sakes.

One of my favorites is the customer who will ask how much something is, and then get angry over the price.  “How much are your hot dogs?”  $2.29."  “2.29?  Are you kidding me?  You can keep them.  I can go to the gas station and get two for a dollar.”  To which I reply, “Thank you.  Have a nice day.”  What always kills me about this customer is that this customer thinks I am going to be devastated if he does not buy our hot dogs.  The truth is, I don’t care.  I get paid the same whether he buys one or not.   I don’t work on commission.

And then there are the many customers who order this way:  “Can I do a hot dog?”  My first thought to this question is I don’t know.  Can you? (and did you not take English in school?).  My next thought is I would love to see you do a hot dog.  Learn your English, people!

One of the most annoying customers is the one who will come to the counter and say, “How fresh is your pizza?”  Let me say that our pizza is not allowed to stay on the warmer longer than 20 minutes.  At the end of 20 minutes it goes into the trash and is replaced with a brand new pizza.  So our pizza is always fresh.  When the customer asks this question, I will explain that the pizza was only put there a minute or so ago.  She will wrinkle her nose and ask if we can put a new one in the oven for her because she wants it nice and hot.  No problem.  I put one in the oven for her, telling her it will be ready in 7 minutes.  She then comes back 20 minutes later and complains because it is not “fresh”.  Really?

Some of the customers I most dread are the parents who have no control over their children.  It can be difficult, at times, to tell who is the parent and who is the child.  Here is a typical conversation:

What would you like to eat, Little Susie?

Little Susie:  I want a cookie.

I told you earlier you can’t have a cookie.

Little Susie:  I want a chocolate chip cookie.  I don’t want anything else.

I told you that you have to eat dinner.  You can have pizza or a hot dog.

Little Susie:  Can I have an icee too?

No.  That is too much sugar.

Little Susie:  (Whining, scowling, throwing her toy down on to the floor).  I don’t want a stupid hot dog or pizza.

Okay, Café Lady.  Go ahead and give me a chocolate chip cookie and an icee.  I don’t feel like dealing with a tantrum today while I shop.

REALLY?  Take that kid home and make her eat some vegetables.  SERIOUSLY.

Let me make a note here to parents.  Your children are going to end up with eating disorders.  Every day I see you rewarding your kids with food, bribing your kids with food, or punishing your kids with food.  Do you not know anything about obesity in America or the epidemic of childhood Type II Diabetes?  If you can’t shop without buying your kids sugary, salty treats as a means of getting them to behave themselves, then you are going to have a problem on your hands in the years to come. Just saying. I know, because I was one of those kids.

One of the most common and classic gripes I have is with the customer who throws a wad of money at me rather than hand it to me.  I’m not a rocket scientist, but I deserve more respect than that.  Not only is it disrespectful, it makes my job more difficult.  When I have to take my time to pick up your money and straighten out your money before I put it in the register, I am making the customers standing behind you needlessly wait.  Is it that hard for you to hand me money that is not crumpled up?  Please know that when you do this, it will take longer for you to get your order.  After all, it takes awhile for me to straighten your money out before I put it in the register.  And believe me, I will not rush.

Well, I just pulled up to the store.  Time to get busy.  I wonder what today will hold for me.  Oh, look.  I know that lady.  She’s the one who always tries to tip me.  I guess I forgot about her.  She’s really nice.  Actually, she isn’t the only nice one.  There’s the lady who gave me a hug one day when I took her order out to her.  She thanked me for always being so nice to her.  And there’s this little girl that is so adorable.  She will come up and order an icee sometimes.  She always calls me “Ma’am” and tells me to have a wonderful day.  She can’t be more than 5 years old.  I guess some parents do it right after all.

And I don’t really dislike people.  Just some people. 

A Lesson in Frugality

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to tour Carl Sandburg's home in Flat Rock, NC.  Carl Sandburg was a poet, author, and biographer.  He was an American icon who wrote about real people in real situations.  He was tireless in his efforts, and only slept 3 hours a night.  The majority of the rest of his time was spent writing.

The home of Carl Sandburg was a nice home on a very scenic piece of land.  But the inside was quite different from what one would imagine it to be.  It was...well...nothing spectacular.  It had no fine furnishings. The furniture was shabby and worn.  It wasn't nicely decorated.  It contained the necessary essentials. The one noticeable thing about the house was the number of books it contained.  Each room contained at least one or two walls that were nothing but floor to ceiling bookshelves.  Sandburg owned thousands of books. The books still in the home are only a few of the number he actually owned.  Some of his collection has been sold or given away.

The tour guide told us that both Carl and his wife cared nothing for money or material possessions.  His idea of success was not in the number of material possessions one owned, but in personal achievements.  What a great way of looking at life.

I drive to work each day looking at the McMansions on the side of the road, and often wonder to myself why people feel the need to own such giant luxurious homes.  I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it  I have to wonder, however...if many of us have our priorities wrong.  Are we as proud of our personal achievements as we are of the "things" we surround ourselves with?  It seems that we associate these "things" with success...as if we have to prove ourselves to onlookers.  How nice it would be if we could just be satisfied with our accomplishments...whether we get accolades from anyone else or not.  How nice it would be if we could be satisfied just to look in the mirror at the end of each day and tell ourselves, "Great job."

Hearing the history of Carl Sandburg made me rethink many of my priorities.  I'm going to try and simplify the way I look at things....including myself.  Somehow I think this might just be the key to being happy with my life as it is.

Home of Carl Sandburg, Photo by Cheryl Williams, 2014

Be sure to check out my books, available on Amazon!

Flash: A Short Story Collection

Heavenly Hugs: Inspirational Poetry

A Personal Message to Anyone Who Struggles with Being Different

My heart goes out to anyone out there who is "different".  Different comes in a variety of shapes, sizes, and ways of thinking.  I have always been different in that I have struggled with my weight all of my life.  I was a chubby child, a chubby teenager, and an overweight adult.  I have never felt like I fit in anywhere, and this destroyed my self-esteem.

As a child, I felt the stigma of my weight follow me everywhere from shopping trips with my mom to school where I was always chosen last to play games at recess.  As a teenager, I felt the stigma at not being able to wear the cool clothes that other people wore.  As an adult, I have felt the stigma follow me in job searches, in not being able to participate in many activities with my children (such as riding roller coasters).  I have had other parents say rude and hateful things to me or my children.  I remember one particularly painful episode when my daughter was around four years old.  I had taken her to a birthday party.  At one table a lady was serving birthday cake.  When I took my daughter over to the table, she asked if she could please have a slice of cake.  The woman looked at her and said, "Oh honey...are you sure you want cake?  You don't want to end up looking like your mom, do you?"  At the time, I wanted to crawl under the table and hide.  I was more than humiliated.  All I could do was walk away and go home and cry.  If this happened to me today, my reaction would be much different.

I am a child of God.  I am special and loved by Him just as I am.  He knows my struggles at losing weight. God knows I have lost and gained it back, and He knows the deep inner pain that has led to that revolving cycle.  God knows that I am not lazy.  God knows that I care deeply about my health.  God knows that I am a kind and loving person behind any excess weight that is on my body.  Coming to this realization has opened the door for a tremendous amount of healing in my life.  It has opened the door for me to finally lose some of the weight that I have carried for years.  Do I still have more to lose?  Yes.  It is a process, and one that God is helping me with each and every day.

If you struggle with being different in any way, take heart.  You ARE special.  You ARE loved.  God made you, and He thinks you are beautiful just as you are.  He knows your pain, your heartache.  He is with You though it all, and when you are feeling at your lowest that is when God can show you his incredible strength and power.  He can lift you up into places you never dreamed of.  Never give up on yourself.  You are a work in progress at the hands of the Master Creator.

                                                               Photo by Cheryl Williams