Chapter Twelve: Retail Hell Day I

            3:45am showed up at the Shelby Township Ropers, the store was open for 24 hours, but the Black Friday sale did not start until 4am. A meeting was conducted in the east end of the employees only hallway. This was for specifically for salaried employees who would not usually be required for their own duties but selected to be required for assisting in the madness of Black Friday. Along, with five hourly employees who were most vital to the store. An enthusiastic Thomas Floyd played the conductor and had told his employees to try their best today as some will work the menial duties. An example would be that Glen would once again play Front End Assistant, the job he started with when he started with Ropers back when he was 15. His duty as Human Resources would be a hold until at the least, the end of his work day.

            After the meeting was over with Thomas Floyd’s emphasis on the use of security in case things get harry, they all split up with a few employees preparing to get out there with gusto. Glen walked quick with a cup of Espresso, realistically, it was three little cups into that cup. The strong taste had reduced him to sips as he solemnly tried to push himself out of his tired state. While exiting out into the store area, he was tapped on the shoulder unpleasantly. He looked over to see the lead Grocery manager, a chubby short redhead with her fat face filled with a smile, and a higher power than Glen.

She squawked to him, “Turn that frown upside down.”

Glen did as she said with discontent and asked her, “You’re not going to do that while I’m trying to drink my espresso? I don’t want to choke and die on black Friday, ya know.”

She stopped and looked at him suspiciously.

Glen continued on walking with the thought, ‘who sells the drugs around here?’

            Three minutes prior to the start of the Black Friday sale, with Glen’s previous experience in being a Front End bitch, he was assigned to be the ‘runner.’ He would not be assigned a particular area, he would just backup anyone having a little trouble. All thirty-four cashier aisles (including self-help) were open, which was a rarity for Ropers, even at peak busy times. And ready with a cashier and a front end assistant each to make the Ropers shopping experience a lot better for customers joining the tradition of shopping on Black Friday for the great prices for the holidays, and for anybody whose cheap to cut costs… such as Ropers itself.

            Martha, the Front End team leader and Glen had stood in the middle area of the aisle way that was before the array of cashier aisles. With two minutes standing by, the store was filled with customers, however, no one made the approach until the clock ticked four. Anything they were buying in the next minute would be paying the retail price, wait another minute and you pay a much lower price.

“C’mon! God Damnit! Turn four in the morning already!!!” shouted a fat woman waiting by Jewelry with two carts, one manned by her and one being looked out by a little girl, likely her daughter.

Glen shook his head at that while a short Front End assistant noticeably chuckled in front of them chuckled at that, his hair was dyed lime green with the ends of his parted hair fading into the color of black.

Martha walked behind him and furiously tapped on his shoulder, “Patrick, don’t do that.”

He regarded her with a sneer.

She stepped back to Glen with a shake of her head, “I don’t want this guy working with me.” She said for only Glen’s ears to hear.

“Perhaps he isn’t a good employee, but I do have to side with him on that to be honest.”

Martha looked at him with discontent and Glen knew that without looking at her.

“Is it four in the morning yet? I got more shopping to do!!” said that woman again.

A cashier from a couple aisles down said, “Ma’am, we have twenty seconds till four in the morning.”

Glen began to play the chorus of the song ‘Roses’ by Outkast in his head while looking at this woman funny and also thinking about how usually anticipate the 24-hour Ropers Black Friday, they would enter at 2 to 3 am and wait until 4 rolls around.

The mental jukebox  would be interrupted by Tom on the PA announcing, “It’s Four AM now, the Black Friday sale has started.”

Right on his words of Black Friday, the awaiting shoppers rushed to the aisles like a defensive line going after a quarterback with the benefit of no offensive line blocking them. A few crashes of carts were heard, a foul word by a male was screamed, followed by multiple mothers complaining about their children having to hear that. The dismays of that gave others the opportunity to cut.

            The woman who could not wait for it to be 4am had arrived to the aisle in where Patrick was assigned too, a young blond female cashier who Glen knew was a college student, began to run items through the scanner as the woman pushed items on the conveyor and demanding that her daughter to do the same.

“Umm, ma’am? Please, one at a time.” Asked the cashier.

She looked back with disdain and drama, “I’ve got more shopping to do! Can you make this conveyor move faster than this? It’s too slow.”

“Um, no, I’m sorry. This is a fast as it can go.” She said.

“Augh, damnit.” She yapped.

Patrick began to bag, but also continued to chuckle at this woman.

Glen was observing this woman as a potential security issue, not due to her causing an attack, but her incoherence and selfish attitude could go further. He bagged in the aisle next to Patrick along with Martha who seemed to be keeping an eye on Patrick than opposed to doing her job, even at a critical time. Yes, as a manager, she could walk away with doing less, but Glen disagreed with the idea that she was just watching an employee she had a feud with, waiting for him to make a mistake.

“Wait!” said the woman while pointing her finger straight at the LCD screen of one of the 27 POS Registers this Ropers has, the best of the best as of 2007.

“Um, yes?” said the cashier.

“That’s supposed to be a hundred dollars!” she said.

The cashier took the Xbox360 and looked at the price tag well. The truth be told is the cashiers did not punch in the price unless one was buying meat from the Deli and did not receive a tag, therefore, a look at the computer screen on which item number it is would do and the scanner also doubled as a weight machine. Otherwise, all prices were set by Ropers’s system programmed by an IT higher-up in the Midwestern office (the officer where Glen’s Mom plays a role in), the prices were set through 4am-1pm this day and whatever was said on that display, was the right price.

“Um, sorry ma’am. I think you’re mistaken, it’s $124.99.” the cashier stated.

“I saw on the display! It’s $100, or ninety-nine ninety-nine!”

“Well, let me try it again.” She said.

She took the Xbox360 off of the list and re-ran the barcode through the scanner, at the same time, Martha had stood next to Patrick.

Sure enough, the price is $124.99, and the cashier said, “Um, the price is $124.99.”

“I saw it on a display as $99.99! You people are stupid!” She yapped.

Glen saw the customers behind them waiting impatiently and the nervousness of the cashier had Glen to step in.

“Ma’am, perhaps it was in the wrong display, sometimes our guests put something in their carts and later decide not to buy it and place it somewhere else. We are sorry for the inconvenience but the price is $124.99, are you still interested in buying the Xbox 360?”

She sighed and said, “Yeah, I’ll take it, you cheap bastards.”

She next pushed the box over to Patrick, who tried to catch the box as it slid off a little into flight, “Whoa, the fuck? Fat bitch.” he said in silence.

Martha heard that and said, “Hey, be respectful to our guests, you’re in hot water, mister.”

Patrick regarded that with a chuckle but continued to bag.

At the end of the transaction (a long time later), she paid with cash and openly mentioned that next time, she didn’t want a bagger with piercings and looked like a freak.

Patrick chuckled at that and shook his head, he did see a smile on Martha’s face when she mentioned that, something he has not yet seen since his employment started at Ropers a week before.

            An hour and some changed passed by with the three espressos Glen drunk down doing it’s trick. Being the guy who has to jump from one aisle to another had provided a good example for all front end assistants. He jogged around, helping with any big buys and assisting others with bagging, he reached around to get carts closer to the bags. The job is to conveniently get people in and out on this shopping holiday on Ropers’s accord, provided that they pay up quickly on their own accord. The willingness of Glen Fletcher had wowed a few employees and even a couple of guests. A comment or two came up, with a black woman saying, “Look at this nigga, he should be the CEO of Ropers.”

That comment made some white customers feel uncomfortable.

Glen also saw a camera being pointed at him, the wonder of him being on YouTube and the idea that society waves the middle finger to privacy had come to mind, all because a majority of people want their fame… and money.

            What stopped him in the process is a nagging voice that hit his ears. He looked to the aisle next to him to see the voice belonged to a female wearing a fur coat and appeared to be in her fifties Glen could guess. She complained about a price just like the obese woman just earlier, the one Patrick insulted. The price seemed from a gold watch as she nagged and nagged at the male cashier, including on how she would wish that she would be served by a female cashier. Glen was about to step forward and to talk to this woman who reminded him of Colleen Warnock. He wouldn’t have too, Tom Floyd stepped in front with his arm out, saying, “I’ll handle this.”

Glen went back to running around like a maniac, but the Colleen Warnock-wannabe kept his focus away from the job. The woman was reminding Glen of the times Sheila would talk about her dramatics at home and even her dramatics in public. He played the tape of Sheila’s voice when they all sat in a car and listened to Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody’s ending, followed by a DJ making an off-color about Freddie Mercury being gay with male dogs while abiding by FCC’s strict standards. Sheila also mentioned that Todd laughed hard at that, with Colleen pulling over the car into a driveway and giving a speech about not being anti-gay. She then called the radio station’s request line and spoke to the DJ herself, complaining while a commercial was playing. Three minutes later, the recorded call came on the air. And Sheila mentioned, “I was really hoping that the people at school did not hear it.”

            And by 8:00am, Glen heard a recently familiar female voice say, “I didn’t know you’re a bag boy.”

Glen turned to that voice and saw Regatta by aisle 7.

He approached while assisting with the teenage female bagger and said, “Actually, I’m Human Resources.”

Glen regarded the smiling Regatta, for a woman who happens to be in her fifties or perhaps even early sixties, she looked very good for that age. She was with another Italian woman around her age but didn’t share the same attractiveness as Regatta.

“You’re just helping out on Black Friday?” She asked.

While bagging, he said, “Yes, I see you buying some china.”

“It’s not for the restaurant, I don’t buy cheap crap for my restaurant, this is as a gift. No offense to your store.”

Glen shrugged, “None taken.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get to speak to you much yesterday.” She said as Glen began to make separate bags for the china.

“No big deal. I enjoyed yesterday, I’m having a hard time with keeping myself together.” He said, the female bagger was about to grab the china and put it in the cart, but Glen stopped her and said, “that goes last.”

Martha chimed in, “Yes, that goes in last.”

Instead of a grouchy voice she would use for Patrick, it was more kind to this female and Glen had noticed.

“What’s with that man you were with last week?”

The stopped Glen in the process, he thought she was referring to Juby. But Glen never brought Juby into Ragetta’s. He asked, “which man?”

“You were with your family last week.” She said, while the last item she was buying ran thru the scanner and the final price was over four-hundred dollars.

“Oh, no, that’s not my family. That’s… um… well people I know.” Glen said while Regatta was paying attention and pulling out some cash at the same time, “That person is Todd, he has some problems.”

“No offense, but I was about to have my cooks come by and knock his head off.”

“I would’ve of like that myself.” Glen said while finishing the bagging.

“So, that’s not your family, where is your family?”

“My mom lives in Lake Orion, otherwise, they are scattered, the majority lives in Utah.” He said while packing the sensitive items on the top of the cart, but stopped and asked, “would you like to hold the china?”

“Yes, I’ll hold on to it.” Regatta said while approaching.

She took the china warped in a bag and said to him, “Come by today.”

Glen smiled, “I’m afraid I have plans.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Yes, I’ll come by, unless otherwise.”

She whisper in his ear, “You’re cute. You’ve been with an older woman before?”

Glen dropped the smile, not to intend disrespect to the Mob’s cousin and said, “’Fraid not.”

She went back to her normal voice, “Well, I’ll let you back to your slave duty, so I can start mine.”

She then placed the china on the baby seat of the cart, the woman with her followed and the two exited, but Regatta looked back to Glen with a smile.

“Glen, I could use your help here.” Martha said, getting Glen back to reality.

Glen did, and did as Martha said, he would typically think at this time that Martha sure is a grumpy woman who seems to believe she can overpower him, but the thoughts of him having a night with Regatta plagued his mind. Was this something that she was going to use against him if he refused, next to get on the wrong side with the Mob? Ragetta’s position with the Mob was a high one as Glen learned, but how executive it is was unknown to him. Perhaps she was drunk? No, women who respected themselves would not be drinking at this time in the morning, even though it was hectic day as Glen thought. He decided to tuck that thought away for the moment, as Martha informed him rudely on assisting a male bagger dealing with a large purchase.

            Ten o’clock arrived with Glen assisting Patrick. The madness of Black Friday was dwindling down, but still the customers kept a coming, or guests as Ropers is supposed to refer to them as. Glen regarded an elderly man walking around randomly behind the baggers. He quickly thought that he was looking for somebody that happen to be in the store, he has been waiting in the car and got fed up with the wait. So he went in to take a look for the person he was with. However, he had been walking around for nearly a half-hour. He wore a Carhart coat, black dress pants and a baseball cap with some hunting insignia on it.

            Glen and Patrick bagged and bagged while Glen placed sensitive items off to the side and told Patrick that, “those go in last.”

The guests on hand was a couple, the male was loading items on the convener while the female was staring away ruthlessly at Patrick. The couple were in their late forties or early fifties, the male balding with the female with a blond short hair and glasses. Glen thought that she was just trying to make sure things went well, but he noticed that the stare went to Patrick, and thought of him as a shady character.

“You’re new, are you?” She asked Patrick.

Patrick didn’t know if she was talking to him, he just continued, grabbing some wrapped pork. He was about to put off to the side until the woman grabbed his arm urgently.

“That goes in last!”

Patrick looked at her funny, “That’s what I was looking to do, ma’am.”

This little melee had caught Glen’s attention, she looked at him and said, “I really don’t want a new guy packing my items. I can do a better job than him!” she said with wide eyes.

Glen was about to have his say, but Patrick smiled and willfully took two steps back and gave her the polite notion for her to do the job herself.

She appeared disgusted and Glen was about to neutralize the situation until a loud commotion from behind him made the ears.

“RAAAAAMOOONE!”

It came from the shady old man that was walking around the aisle way earlier, quite a few people turned to the noise, Glen, Patrick and the ruthless woman included.

“I WANNA SMACK AN EMO IN THE FACE!” he yelled, now carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Holy shit!” Patrick muttered while giggling.

“RAMONE!  I WANNA HANG AN EMO ON A TREE!”

That disgusted many and Glen had now noticed a young male around the area looking at this and like most people present and within the radius. Patrick was rather entertained, and that man noticed.

He approached Patrick, “RAMONE! I’M FUCKIN’ SEEIN’ ALIENS!” while pointing at Patrick.

He looked away with a smile and lip-synched to Glen, “What the fuck?”

Glen, along with quite a few employees were calling for security, Tom Floyd with some urgency though.

The drunk and perhaps mentally off man then looked at the female customer hassling Patrick earlier and yelled, “RAMONE!! SMACK THIS RICH CUNT IN THE FACE WITH A BLACK COCK.”

Patrick doubled over with laughter while two large but overweight black females hurried to this man and grabbed him by the shoulders each, dragging him to the exit.

Nevertheless, he continued, “RAMONE! THESE FAT FUCKS SHOULD STARVE, PUT EM’ IN A CONCENTRATION CAMP!”

This followed by one of the females saying, “Fuck you, cracker.”

And next by the other, “This nigga’s crazy.”

Before exiting the store completely, another Ramone was heard, however, what he said afterwards didn’t make the ears of the people in front of Ropers.

Patrick slowly walked back to his station laughing hard and saying, “What the fuck.”

The cashier, a male around Glen’s age who had worked at the same Ropers since he left high school, was about to take cash before the silly incident and he was confused if he had taken cash.

“I like to pay with my credit card.” The male said in a frumpish voice.

“Oh… sorry, I got a little preoccupied.” He said, he readied the card reader for him to pay as he please.

He swiped his card and while signing his name, he said to the cashier, “You know, I don’t appreciate you laughing at that comment about my wife.”

The cashier who did not laugh at all at that said, “No sir, I did not laugh at that.”

“You were laughing.”

“I did chuckle a little, but it wasn’t because he insulted your wife, sir.”

“Honey, I really don’t want to leave with that man still out there.” The woman said.

Glen was about to suggest the other exit, but Patrick beat him to it.

“Well, there happens to be an exit on the other side, if you wish to use that.”

“No, my car happens to be parked very close to that exit the man walked out of, I’m not going to walk a lot to get to my car.” She said ruthlessly.

Glen chimed in, “Well, ma’am, security is tossing that man in a car now, we are informing to cops now about this. He shouldn’t be out there, especially with him being disruptive like that.”

She looked to her husband and he said, “We can wait in here for five minutes.”

            And that is what they chose to do. The two stood close by to Patrick for five minutes after, the female criticized each move Patrick did with her nagging voice and stated a couple of times with drama, “I can’t believe they hire idiots with piercings and green hair.”

Patrick heard but continued on, with the thought, ‘That man was crazy, but he’s right. You need a big black cock to slap you in the face.’

She continued on with, “You know, these blacks and weirdo’s are moving up north each day. I’m sick of this, we moved ten years ago to get away from these guys. Now our community looks like crap due to these blacks and weirdo’s, especially ones with green hair like this bagger.”

Again, Patrick heard that, but said to himself while working, “Maybe you might like a concentration camp, with Adolf Hitler running it.”

            At noon, and without any breaks minus two trips to the bathroom for a quick piss, Glen still bagged and bagged, minus the determination he had previously. He was tiring with just about four hours to go and began to make small errors in his judgment in the arts of bagging, or as Ropers would call it, the art of being a Front End Assistant. He found himself from now till back when the crazy man was present, putting in sensitive items first, which ill cited a guest to nag at him, second time was from a veteran cashier whom Glen knew was resentful for not getting a particular salary job she applied for just before he got the job as a Human Resources. It was Barbara who told her no, due to lack of college degree. But she brought the resentment.

            The third time came when Glen grabbed a wrapped Pork Roast, next to grab a microwave. He knew what he was doing and stopped himself.

“Glen, don’t put that microwave on top of that.” Martha urged as the sound of her footsteps hit his eardrums.

The guest, an older female with a vicious frown on her face, had saw what Glen was about to do.

“Glen, that’s the third mistake since that psycho floated in here. What’s going on?” Martha said, her voice would easily suggest that she is upset.

He smiled at her, “I didn’t commit the sin.” He said and moved the microwave back onto the end and not in the bag.

She sighed harshly and said, “I’m not liking your attitude. Ever since that man was here yelling, it seems like he got his disease on everyone.”

Glen did not reply, he continued on but was surprised that she was getting rather ruthless with a Human Resources manager, something anybody shouldn’t do. He had the power to have her disciplined, which would lead up to suspension or even termination. Ropers had a union, but when it came to situations when a hourly employee gets a little harsh with Human Resources, they can be booted with most times, the union not able or willing to represent the employee. Glen has canned people before, something he doesn’t like to do, but he rarely saw wrath from the union.

“Have you taken a break yet, Glen?” Martha asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

“You are about to get me in trouble, you know.”

Glen packed the bag right and put it in the cart and said to the guest, “You have nice day, my apologies for the little mishap.”

The woman still frowned at his smiling face and gave him nothing.

Then to Martha, “I’m salary, Martha, you are not going to get in trouble for that, but you are in hot water. I don’t mind that you tell me how to do the job, but you don’t have to be so hardcore. I don’t like saying this and it gives me no pleasure saying it, but I’m Human Resources.”

Martha just looked on.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Glen said.

He walked away from the front end hallway and without his coat, he exited Ropers for a smoke and a Coca-Cola from the vending machine.

            He walked out of the same exit the crazy man was forced out of. He looked to the parking lot, busy and busy it was. The Front End Assistants were also cart chasers as well. Typically there was two out there and three on weekends, but today, there was five at a time. On a given day, saying that a Front End Assistant would work 6-8 hours, one could expect to be chasing carts for at least two hours at a day. It was like that when Glen was a Front End bitch, and he knows that the Standard Operating Procedure hasn’t changed, he had the binder filled with each graphic detail on how it’s done. However, he has heard a few times that Martha assigns more cart catching duties on the male employees, with her excuse, “The clientele prefers a female.”

On his way to the vending machines and the bench nearby, Glen began to really wonder what is going on with Martha and her obvious horrid relationship with her man. He didn’t know the exact reason why her man is doing her wrong, but he imagined that he was abusive. The guess was verbal and emotional abuse, for he hasn’t seen Martha with a black eye or bruise.

            Glen saw the sadness of both Coke machines completely sold out as it being told to him with flashing Red LED displays saying ‘Sold’… then ‘Out.’ He walked with depression to Ropers’s brand cola vending machine and bought himself a Dr. S, a rip-off and poor tasting version of Dr. Pepper for a mere price of two quarters. He opened that can and continued to walk to the end of the store where he could legally light one up due to Michigan’s strict laws of smoking, the taste of the Dr. S made things worse.

He made his way to the bench to see Patrick sitting there by himself, also smoking a cigarette.

“Hey.” Glen said.

He looked over, saw Glen with the Dr. S and said, “Is that shit any good?”

Glen looked at it and said, “No, it isn’t, but I have about four hours to go.”

“I’ve been here since midnight.” He said.

Glen’s eyebrows rose while he slowly sat down at the bench and took another sip of the crappy Dr. Pepper impression, “Midnight, when are you going home?”

“I’m doing fourteen to sixteen hours and I get the weekend off.”

“Sixteen hours, done that many times. I’ve been here till 2am a few times.”

“You get paid the same, since you get a salary?”

Glen nodded.

Patrick took a puff too on his own Smoker’s Choice cigarettes, “That sucks.”

Glen noticed the crappy cigarettes Patrick was smoking and asked, “You want a Marlboro?”

Patrick nodded coolly, “Yeah, if you’re offering.”

“I insist, those Smoker’s Choice’s are shitty.”

“Yeah, they are.” Patrick replied while getting a Marlboro.

Glen took a sip of his cola while the gentle wind hit the both of them. It was around 35 degrees outside with the two of them not wearing jackets.

“No offense, but what is with my boss? Does her man beat her ass?”

Glen nearly choked on his Dr. S while chuckling, he said, “I don’t know. She does has issues with her marriage, she says it a lot to my bosses.”

“Your bosses?” Patrick asked while enjoying the taste of a Marlboro, opposed to the crappy taste of Smoker’s Choice.

“I’m the second-in-command in Human Resources, my boss is Barbara. She often complains about being the Front End boss. That also includes the head cheese here too.”

Patrick shrugged.