Yesterday as I crossed Oak St. on my way to work, I scanned the 7-Eleven parking lot and didn't see Ryan's car parked in its normal parking space. I could have sworn that Ryan worked on Wednesday, so I was somewhat surprised when I walked in and saw Ryan there at register 1, checking customers. After I had clocked in, I walked over there and said, "Hey Ryan, where's your car?"
His facial expression communicated some surprise, and he said, "It should be there. I hope it's there, otherwise, it's been stolen."
Huh? thought I. I turned around and marched out the door and around to the side of the store where Ryan usually parks, and saw his big white... Impala, or something... parked right there, where it usually is. Wha...? Huh...? There it was! But I KNOW I didn't see it as I was crossing Oak St., and it's not a hard thing to miss. Like I said, it's a pretty big car, and Ryan always parks it so that it takes up three parking spaces so as to discourage people from parking next to it. I guess he doesn't want his sweet ride banged up and scratched.
So I went back inside and had to express my befuddlement. Actually, I knew exactly what had happened. My brain had played a trick on me again. Stupid brain. What my brain does is this... every now and then, when I expect a particular thing to be in a particular place and I'm actively looking for it in that place, my brain will just erase the object I'm looking for from my vision and I won't see it (kind of like how my brain gets green and orange confused). It's as simple as that. It happens all the time... when I'm looking for my keys, my lighter, my phone, my cigarettes, my bracelet, my book, etc. This time it happened with Ryan's car. Ha ha, very funny brain. The joke is always on me. Stupid brain.
Anywho...
So I got settled in to register 1 and started checking customers, and an Asian guy wanted to by some smokes. By the way, I think every single Asian customer who comes into the store smokes Marlboro lights, or a version of Marlboro menthols... usually smooths. They are all very young and no speakie the Ingles very well, and when I card them they almost always show me a Chinese passport. Maybe that's just me lumping Asian people into a stereotype because they all look alike to me.
So anywho, like I was saying, an Asian guy walked in yesterday and wanted to try the new Marlboro Skyline cigarettes. I was about to ring them up when he asked, "Ah they righter?"
Huh? thought I. Righter than what? Righter, as in better than every other brand? Hell, I dunno, that's a pretty subjective question and probably different for everyone. Were they... oh, were the LIGHTER. As in, like Marlboro lights are lighter than Marlboro reds.
I asked him, "Lighter than what?" He said, "Gleen pack. Gleen ones." He was pointing to the Marlboro menthols.
I told him that I didn't know if they were lighter than Marlboro menthols, and that the only thing I knew about the Skyline cigarettes was that they were 'lighter' than Marlboro smooths, because a friend of mine had tried them and told me so. He thought about this for a few seconds, and then asked, "Ah they righter than Camer rights? Again, I told him that I didn't know, and that the only thing I did know is that they were lighter than Marlboro smooths. Again the pause for a few seconds, and then, "Ah they righter than Par Mar?" Again, I told him that I didn't know, and that the only thing I did know... at which point he interrupted me and said, "Ok, ok," and bought the cigarettes. I wonder if he liked the Skylines. I'll probably never know.
Then later a guy came into the store with a couple of those huge bottles of Bud Ice. He started to hand me his debit card, but I'd never seen him before, so I carded him. Well, his expression just sank and he looked at me as if I'd just kicked his dog. He sighed, put the debit card down on the counter, and with great deliberation, reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. As he dug out his ID, he said, "Man, you've seen my ID before."
Well, maybe I had seen this guy before, but hell if I remembered him. So I said, "I get about 500 people a day coming into this store." I examined his ID and handed it back to him. He still looked put off. I swiped his debit card. "I don't recognize anybody the first 10 times they come in." He still didn't seem convinced that I wasn't trying to ruin his day. "I could actually go to jail..."
"Yeah ok, just as long as I get my beer," he said as he rolled his eyes and took back his debit card. Yeesh. What was that guy's problem? When I get carded it always makes my day.
I really do suck at remembering names and faces, so it usually takes a good dose of personality to make a person stick in my memory. I can see the guys face in my mind right now.
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