don't buy that

so, i'm in training and ringing up stuff (since my new coffeeshoppe job is in a grocery store), and i can't help but make up shit about the people shopping. it is how my mind works folks, deal with it.

so the lady with one navel orange, five cans of cat food, some fake mouse toys, and small portions of thanksgiving type fare. i'm thinking, catlady. but at least she didn't buy tons of catfood. perhaps she only has one cat.

and there's nothing wrong with that. we all need companionship.

but then one of the managers goes through the line and i say something that strikes him as funny, and he's giggling. a grown man. it's late, granted. but he's lugging home a large bag of cat litter. i say,

long day?

yes,

he says.

time to go home and hug the cat.

catman.

i say to the young buck traning me. and we laugh.

my young counterpart bought one can of soup. i asked if he was like the guy on the morning show who admitted to peeling off the label, opening the can and setting it on the burner directly. no pan.

he uses a pan, which is refreshing.

it's hard not to make up stories about people. it is what i do.

so when the man with the mullet and red shirt are in the darkened meat section (the start shutting off the lights at 11pm), wanders around to the cash register, i am surprised to learn he is a very nice man (bad haircut notwithstanding), and i am a meanie. but we know that all ready.

it's weird, working with dudes. but i'll muddle through somehow. the best thing that happened was when my young (23) trainer asked my age and i told him, he was shocked. i haven't been around the young much of late (dudes i mean), i'm around young girls all the time. but it was nice to be thought much younger than i really am. it was meant in a good way.

home late, i'm working to the poing of sleepiness, and passed out when i walked in the door. i think that works for me, but the coffee bar closes much earlier than the store. so, i guess, i'll just have to come home wide eyed and try to sleep.