Life A Drugstore in Spring
posted by on July 19 at 7:36 AM
It happened sometime in the spring. I realized it one day when I brought my stuff to the counter and the cashier was just, like, hanging out with his coworkers up front, smiling, talking about stuff. Smiles used to be hard to come by at the Rite Aid at the corner of Broadway and John.
As someone who lives very close, I can tell you it used to be—before the spring—staffed by people who looked liked they’d been found in a medieval forest. They were barely human. They were not experts at English, and when they spoke the entire purpose of what they said was intended to prevent further communication. I once asked one of these goblins if there was any way I could request that they begin carrying carbonated water—seltzer, club soda, Perrier, something like that. She snapped, “No.” There’s no way I can request something? Well, she said, rolling her eyes, “You can call 1-800-RITE-AID.”
So anyway, it’s months later, and I’m at the front registers, and the guy is laughing with his coworkers. This guy is new—a good hire, good smile, a real person. And this smiling business, all this mirth—this is new. Never before in history had anyone ever looked like they were doing anything at this Rite Aid except artlessly forestalling mortal doom. Whereas this new guy was having a good time at his job. And the two women he was talking with were having a good time at work too.
“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” I said, because it was so great seeing them enjoying their existence.
“I’m building employee morale,” one of the women, a supervisor, said, grinning.
These three are not the only ones. An entire shipment of people has entered into employment at the Rite Aid at Broadway and John in the last six months, good people, sprinkling their good-people dust everywhere, and even some of the medieval-forest people are themselves undergoing transformations, so that now some of them actually seem, when they are looking at you, not to be staring through your eyes. They are animated, real, befriendable.
Last night, I stopped into Rite Aid—I actually look for excuses to go in now—and bought a little something, and when I got to the cashier it was the same guy in the above paragraphs. We’ve developed a little rapport. He’s a student somewhere. He was fixing with the receipt machine with one hand (the receipt paper was jammed) and holding a stuffed monkey with the other (it had been sitting on top of the receipt thing).
“Technical malfunction?” I said.
“Technical malfunction and Fred needed a hug,” he said, referring to the monkey he was squeezing with his right hand.
“How’s my favorite drugstore these days?” I said, having just decided I was going to go home and alert the Slog citizenry of the recent sea change at my local drugstore.
“It’s well,” he said, awkwardly, and then, charmingly, realized that that sounded kind of awkward and started riffing. “It’s been very well-kept. Well cleaned…”
He laughed at himself and, in the process of giving me my receipt, failed to give me the $20 I had just taken out with my debit card, and shut his register drawer. It took me a couple steps to realize I didn’t have the twenty I’d taken out, and by this time he was in the middle of ringing up the next person. I turned on my heels and explained.
“Are you sure? Are you sure it’s not in one of your pockets?” he said.
I checked all my pockets. I didn’t have it. He looked at me. I looked at him. I waited for him to decide how he was going to handle this. Cue the tension music. If this had happened six months ago, if he were one of the old employees of the Rite Aid, he would have not believed me, and if I had a problem he would have told me to come back at the end of his shift when he was counting his till, or to take it up with 1-800-RITE-AID, or whatever.
Meanwhile, he was in the middle of this other transaction, and he said to this customer, with a wry glance in my direction, “Did you want cash back?” And then to me, he said—and in doing this he became the mascot for the flowering of humanity and neighborhood values in a setting that had never seen either—“Oh, I must have just handed you your receipt. Sorry about that. Here you go, here’s your twenty.”
Now I know where to go get free 20's!!!
If I am expecting a $20 back from my ATM transaction, I tell my cashier beforehand. I do not do that very often, but so far,I have not had any problem getting my $20.
You should have asked if they were "Working hard, or hardly working".
I mean, sure they were genial enough about it, but have you never worked in retail at all, Christopher?
beautiful bedtime story, chrsitopher. thank you.
Great story of hope and optimism. No doubt it will prevent us from going to Bartel's. (a much better drug store and locally owned and operated)
so the Fag from the Stranger want to suck dick at
Rite Aide
And does not like third world labor, mostly women
sad story of shallow mindset
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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I know he is just a minimum wage worker, but I kinda doubt kissing that kid's ass on here is going to get you laid. But good luck.
I will go out of my way to get nice, friendly service. Way to go, Christopher.
Having been to that Rite Aid on many occasions, I can appreciate this story.
LOL @ Chris #3
So, who thinks Essex @ 6 is either Daniel Freykis or his brother?
Well, this brings the world back in balance as I had one of the worst bar experiences at the 5 Point last night.
Its too bad the Rite Aid doesn't serve booze.
Share the details, Monique.
I'm not into the whole "yak with the cashier" thing. I hate shopping -- get me in, get me out. To me, Trader Joe's is hell on Earth. Nobody there bothers to so much as break a sweat, except with their talking muscles.
Well, some asswipe of a bartender was at the 5 Point last night. I used to live in that area, and loved the 5 Point, regardless of the semi-shitty drinks they regularly serve.
Last night, however, I was out with some friends and as we ordered our drinks the bartender rolled his eyes and groaned LOUDLY, like we were putting him out. He then proceeded to tell me he was out of Bacardi. I politely asked if he had other rum, and he snarked and said he only had Myers (which I doubt). He then sighed heavily at every possible moment, because you know, making 4 drinks is REALLY hard.
As we got up to pay, I told him we were paying seperate. He goes "Oh that's just great" and shuffles off. He rolled his eyes and groaned when my friend and I pulled out our debit cards. He just kept being a dick. I normally tip very well, no matter where I am. Its the first time I haven't tipped in years. I wanted to take the shitty drink he made me and toss it behind the bar.
I have never, ever had a bartender treat me like some kind of vermin. But whatevs. I like the bars close to my house better anyway.
Bartell's is better, plus if it matters, they're a local store.
That Rite-Aid on Broadway is a very depressing drugstore. For years now, I pop in once in awhile, it seems like it is two-steps away from hanging an "out of business" sign up. The whole place, from the cracked linoleum and mid 70's style fluorescent lighting, to the sluky staff. But glad to hear that the staff seem more peppy lately. I should pop in again sometime and see for myself.
Americans have absurdly high expectations of friendliness and service for people that are paid so little.
Chris, I'm glad it made your day. But I wouldn't count on it the next time you visit.
@ Andrew; AMEN!! When I worked the front desk of a hotel I thought it was amazing people wanted me to kiss their ass when I was only making 8 bucks an hour! FUCK! And the manager was pissed off because no one cared! Christ, you want people to CARE? Pay them!!!! I ended up walking off the job at 3 am in the morning after one asshole guest was upset they had a smoking room (nothing else was left). And yeah when I left there was no other employees in the hotel. LOL!!!!
As someone who worked retail for a time, I'd just like to remind everyone of the obvious: When you treat cashiers like shit, they will eventually do the same to you. Enthusiasm only lasts so long.
With the cynical, apathetic attitude of some patrons (whom apparently comment on Slog) it's little wonder cashiers become so unfriendly.
Golden Rule people- I can't say it enough.
Essex--
keep your homophopic crap off the Slog!
And yes, service work sucks but some customers are nice people and everyone doesn't deserve to be dumped on just because some people treat you like shit (including usually the company you work for....) (Spoken by a bitter veteran of the Crapuccino sweatshop)
For no apparent reason, this reminds me of the time long ago that my girlfriend went into a drug store (not sure if it was a rite aid or not) to buy a pregnancy test. The cashier took her money and on the way out he shouted "good luck with that." That is exactly the sort of friendly, but slightly unprofessional behavior that keeps me happy.
While I hate service people who act like I'm putting them out -- by asking them to do their jobs, I actually can't stand the talky types. I'm never less than civil, unless the cashier treats me like shit, but I really hate small talk, not to mention that the friendly, happy, joy-joy shit is really fake.
I worked at Noahs on Broadway for a while and the regular customers were my favorite part of the job. I LOVED seeing their faces, knowing their orders, doing extra stuff for them (most of them didn't tip, even)... because I felt like we were part of some fragile spiderweb community, and I really value that kind of thing. Now, I've had my times where I cannot possibly be nice to the cashier or whomever because my head is so far up my ass, but on those occasions I tip extra to make up for it. I know people in the service industry are getting paid ridiculously low wages and it's fucking hard to get by with next-to-no-money and barely any self-respect in that kind of job. I guess that's why I appreciate employees like that guy at Rite Aid. He probably won't be there long (kid sounds like he has a career elsewhere waiting for him) but THANK you Christopher for mentioning him on Slog.
I hate rude customer service too, but I also know too well that there are too many people out there who seem to genuinely enjoy feeling superior to those who serve on them, and treating them like dirt. These people produce sullen, demoralized waitresses and baristas and cashiers, and they are the enemy of all that is good and decent in the world. Upon encountering such people in my life, I often seek to make their life miserable in whatever manner I am personally capable of.
@13. I can't believe someonw else thinks Trader Joes is hell on earth for the same reason I do. I love shopping there, but I hate making small talk with the cashiers. And then, I feel guilty because I hate it (Oh! Modern World! Where we are all so Disconnected!). All for buying some damn bagels.
@13, 24... Drink a glass of wine before you go shopping, then... chill the fuck out and enjoy your time here on the Planet Earth, where you are not the only person who exists. Maybe YOU have a job where you don't have to bump into anyone else, but most of us work with others and it's much much much more pleasant if everyone fakes it a little and greases the wheels with some polite chatter. Come up with a couple stock phrases and use them... It's worth the effort to be a tolerable human being, and people will stop spitting in your food/poking used needles in voodoo dolls shaped like your unfriendly self. Seriously.
Whoops, I guess I'm still a little bitter.
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