An Open Letter to Wal-Mart Cashiers

Dear Wal-mart Cashier with the Lazy Eye: Let me start by saying I’m sorry. I am. I mean it. I’m sorry that you were dealt a bad-hand in this game called life. I’m sorry you were hit by no less than half a dozen ugly sticks on your fall from a tree. I’m sorry you currently live in a halfway house/trailer/motel/under a bridge with the rest of the trolls. I think it’s great that Wal-mart has opened their doors (although probably not their wallets) to you and allowed you to work for them because heaven knows no one else would hire you (aside from the Salvation Army at Christmas-time ringing bells). But, here’s the thing. There are many, many jobs you could do at Wal-mart that are not people facing (box girl, janitor, sweeper-upper - that's a job, right? -….well, you get the idea). I’m not exactly sure what sort of service act they’re performing by putting the most awkward, socially inept people in the role of cashier. Because as we all know, Wal-mart is hell-a busy. There are tons of people that I don’t particularly care to associate with in even a casual setting short or long-term and that includes waiting in line while you figure out how to count out ten cents. And your life story? About some boyfriend you’re moving in with? First of all, I’m calling bullsh*t on that one (unless it’s another cashier and then I’d understand since you’re all cut from the same cloth). Second of all, NO ONE CARES. Do not hold up the line to tell people your stupid life story. We want to get our cheap crap, pay, and get out. End of transaction. Yesterday I was so mad at hearing you tell your life story to the lady in front of me (who was the slowest person alive and probably works as a cashier in her spare time) that I had to change lines last minute and ended up with an even worse freak who yelled at me while wearing what I’m sure was clown make-up. She also told me to take my bags while she was loading them (before I paid). How was I supposed to balance my bags and pay when I wasn’t using a cart? Was it really urgent for those four bags to be cleared from her counter that second? I think not. But, as I was positive she had zero common sense, I gave her a pass. I’ll just make a mental note to never go to her line again for as long as I live. In conclusion, I applaud your desire to better your meager life and work for a living. Good for you. Gold star. In the future, please ask to be moved to a job where you don’t have to make the rest of us suffer. Wal-mart itself is a horrifying experience – let’s not add insult to injury by visiting a freak show at check-out. Thank you in advance, Pinky Lovejoy