By Jerome Haller

While spending an off day at home, I tried to unwind by watching a foreign film. The movie, Gigante, entertained me. Yet, I could not relax. The plot made me tense because it reminded me about an insidious aspect of my job.
A 2009 movie from Uruguay, Gigante presents a story about the extremes of voyeurism.
The main character, Jara, is a single, overweight security guard in his mid-thirties. The lonely bachelor watches the cleaning crew, cooks and stock boys through a monitor during the third shift at a supermarket.
Jara focuses on Julia as she mops. He’s smitten, but shyness prevents him from talking to her. Instead, Jara acts in a creepy manner. He gets Julia’s name by sneaking a peak at her employment file. He follows her to an exercise studio, a movie theater and an internet cafe. He stalks Julia while she meets a man for dinner, and later chats with him to get information about her. When the store lays Julia off, Jara punches a manager before tracking her down at the beach. The movie ends as they talk.

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Posted on July 26, 2010

By Jerome Haller

One night about 1:30 a.m., a tall, thin man chained a bike to a rail near the store’s entrance. Although he wore a dirty T-shirt and torn shorts, he strutted toward me as though he were too cool for school. He held a two-pack of Nyquil and a receipt. The visitor sought a refund. I paged an assistant manager.
I knew he was bad news because he’s tried this scam before. He goes to another store in the chain and rummages through its trash for a receipt. Then he steals the item on the receipt in order to claim a refund. Because the original store has given him too many bogus refunds, he visits my store. Usually, he fails.
On this night, the man showed the Nyquil and receipt to an assistant manager. The assistant, a taciturn type with stern eyes, scanned the items. Then he told the man to go back to the original store. The thief hopped on his bike and pedaled away.
Of course, the Nyquil thief eventually notched a win. He showed up a week later and hooked up with a different assistant manager. I told the manager that a co-worker had just made him take a hike. The new fell on deaf ears. This time, the thief got his money.

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Posted on June 22, 2010

By Jerome Haller

On a recent Saturday night, a man with bad body odor and an even worse attitude walked up to the New Cashier. After paying for a bag of potato chips, he demanded an extra large bag. I figured the man would use it for garbage at home.
Of course, I should have known better. A few hours later, the man returned and disappeared into the back. Curiosity compelled me to sneak a peak. I found him stuffing toilet paper into the bag. When he saw me, he dropped the loot and bolted out the store.
The bag scam represents just one of many schemes that shoplifters use. The methods vary from simple to complex. If a thief thinks he has a smooth game and good luck, he will try to get over.

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Posted on June 21, 2010

By Jerome Haller

Shortly after I started my job, the Head Guard gave me an assignment. He showed me a picture of a young man with a goatee. The youngster had fought with him and an assistant manager before getting arrested for theft. The Head Guard banned the man from the store. He told me to call the police if the shoplifter returned.
Of course, someone who looked like him walked into the store on a Saturday night. I looked at him. He looked at me. I asked if he had been in the store before, hoping to provide a hint about the arrest. He asked if he looked like someone.
Because he sounded like a smart aleck, I told an assistant manager about the visitor and grabbed the picture from the main office. Meanwhile, a cop walked into the store. I gave the photograph to the officer. He compared the picture with the man and decided the two did not match. I had made a big mistake.
I apologized to the customer. Luckily for me, he did not complain to the corporate office. I had dodged a bullet.
That was just one of the mistakes I’ve made while doing my job.

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Posted on April 29, 2010

By Jerome Haller

Around the middle of the shift, when the flow of customers slows to a trickle, I prepare for one of my favorite rituals. I sweep the floor and read newspapers and magazines. Then, I break out a notebook and pencil and draw.
Using basic shapes and different shades, I try to create a picture that reflects one of my interests. One night, it may be a pilgrim dropping his burden and finding hope while gazing toward the sky. Or a guitarist jamming for fans. Or a pitcher firing a strike. Or a golfer pumping a fist while watching a putt roll toward the hole. I’ve even completed a self-portrait, which included my uniform.
The pastime provides a few obvious benefits. First, it helps me relieve the stress that comes with watching the store’s goods and dealing with the general public. Second, I gain some sense of accomplishment. Third, I kill at least 30 minutes with each work.
Yet, there is a deeper reason why I sketch. The memory of an uncle spurs me to create.

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Posted on April 26, 2010

By Patty Hunter

I found out recently I have an intolerance to gluten. You know, the protein found in wheat, barley and rye. I work at a restaurant that serves food I can no longer consume without health consequences. Well, there’s always the salads, but that’s reserved only for the desperate days. It is amusing to work in a place that is technically hazardous to my health; it makes me feel a bit like a firefighter or divorce lawyer.
We recently had our Christmas party at work. A little late, yes, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless that the general manager found it in the goodness of his heart to give us a party at another location we own and serve food none of us liked. The upside? Bottomless margaritas. Every where we looked, there were pitchers of them and they were never empty. We knew they really wanted to get us drunk when we realized they served nothing else to drink; not even water. Thirsty? Have a margarita. Need to wash down those tasteless appetizers? Have a margarita. Half of the staff blacked out. I was part of the other half and have more than 50 pictures that could serve as sweet blackmail. Ah, the joys of digital cameras and staying just sober enough to remember to document everything. I almost feel bad for the girl who had to watch her boyfriend’s toes get sucked.

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Posted on March 25, 2010

By Jerome Haller

After I took my post on a recent Tuesday night, the Head Guard walked over to me and made some small talk
A man shuffled toward us several minutes later. Judging by his soft features, he appeared to be in his early 20s. He stood about 5-foot-7 and wore a tan jacket and light blue jeans. His wide open eyes made me suspect he had just taken a drug.
He asked the Head Guard for change or a cell phone. The man claimed he needed to telephone a friend in order to get money for a prescription.
The Head Guard said no. The man left the store, but returned. He claimed his prescription was ready for pickup. The Head Guard let him go to the pharmacy.
I asked the Head Guard if the man really needed medicine. We walked to the pharmacy to check. The visitor sat in the waiting area. A tech told me the man had been begging there earlier that day.
We escorted him out the door. “I tried to be nice,” the Head Guard said shortly before leaving for home.
Of course, the beggar came back an hour later. I told him to leave. He refused.
I resisted the urge to shove his face through the door. Instead, I called the police.

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Posted on March 9, 2010

By Jerome Haller

Many people show their love and appreciation for others on Valentine’s Day. And a lot of my store’s shoppers did exactly that. They bought balloons, cards, boxes of chocolates and stuffed bears.
Even one of the assistant managers got into the spirit. Normally, he wears a stern expression and doesn’t talk much. That night, he smiled and joked with the staff.
“Maybe he got lucky,” the Cool Cashier said.

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Posted on February 25, 2010

By Patty Hunter

I cannot express the relief I feel that the holiday season is over. No more running out of things a restaurant should never run out of (no more pizza pans? really?), no more trying to figure out how to cram not just the usual crowd into our tiny restaurant but their shopping bags as well. If I see one more American Girl doll for the next two months it will get annihilated. Happy holidays my ass.
One night at the beginning of the holiday season, a group of five came in. One of the women was obviously not in shape to drink more alcohol. The server was told by the manager on duty to tell her she could not order an alcoholic drink from us. This did not go over well. The group threatened to leave and the manager told them they could go ahead. The conversation went something like this. You may want to skip over this if you’re not a fan of profanity.

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Posted on January 11, 2010

By Jerome Haller

At six on a recent Monday morning, a woman bought two bags of goods and walked toward my post. We made eye contact. She asked me, “Do you like my hair?”
Such a question can lead to problems if the hair looks wretched. A yes may spur additional uncomfortable queries. A no means someone’s feelings get hurt.
And I really hated her ‘do. It was a frizzy, uncombed mess that resembled a fallen bowling pin.

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Posted on December 10, 2009