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<blockquote data-quote="Abbey" data-source="post: 184302" data-attributes="member: 179"><p>Two hours of writing at 5am...this is the latest installment. True story. (Remember, this is in <strong>VERY</strong> raw form.) Any suggestions are always very welcome.</p><p></p><p>...........................................................</p><p></p><p> <span style="color: black">Ethel continues to taunt me. I can see out the front door where my little cart is stationed. I see her wheel up no hat, but peek in to see if Im there. If Im there, she digs in her bag and dawns whatever the hat of the day is. She is quite creative. One day I put on a hat that we got in the store that had little blinking lights on the front of it. All she had was feathers. She looked at me, strolled by, then looked back with a glare.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">The next day she came in with her daughter, who is also wheelchair bound. Ethel introduces us. Her daughter, Camia, says, What are you doing to my mother??? Shes spending all her money on hats!! I nearly died laughing. So, I did what any crazy demo person would do is traded hats, then put on some disco music for a little fun. They loved it. We even got the Starbucks people and a few checkers and baggers out there for a minute. My manager just shook her head. But, she knows that our fun brings back these people day by day hopefully bringing them a little happiness in their life and hopefully business. Long gone are the days of the ancient demo lady in a bakers hat who just gives out food. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I may not be at my station 100% of the time. I dont like saying, Its on aisle 3, top shelf, half way down, right hand side. Id rather walk them there. The regulars have learned to say, Lets go for a walk.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I have two customers that I have become their personal shopper by default of being the first person they see when they walk in the door. Its starts with a simple request. Where is the bread? (Theyve only been shopping there for six years.) Come with me Ill show you. Ah, I need some tuna, too. Ok, lets go. Now I need some toilet paper. Ok this way.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">After my arms are loaded with groceries, I have to once again show them how to use the self check-out station. I dont really care. We had some great conversation along the way, and theyll be back tomorrow with new stories that Ill relish.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Bills neighbor came in today to question me having all the family and historical photos. I told him that I would certainly get them back to his family in a timely manner. I also said I was so sorry for his wifes sudden death. Well, it seems that it didnt just happen. Bills wife was killed four years ago, but for him it was just yesterday. He has no surviving family, just great neighborhood friends who watch over him, and the silly, caring people at my store who look forward to seeing him every day.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Its been a couple months since I first met Aretha. Our conversations are generally very short, but pleasant. Today she came in waving, then did her usual Starbucks run, but this time she came back with two drinks. She says, Stock up whatever youre pushing today and come sit down. It wasnt a request. It was an order. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Im sure my managers were initially suspicious when Id sit down with a customer, but after time they seemed to like seeing happy customers who returned every day. And, they actually started buying groceries! It got to be a running joke with them that if they wanted to take me away from my station, they had to BUY something. And they did.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I sat down with Aretha and had just general chit-chat. She said shes feeling a bit better lately as she has finished her third round of chemotherapy. Not wanting to dwell on something so serious that occupies your mind all the time, I changed the subject. After all these months of daily chat, I didnt know what she did for a living. Aretha is an investment broker and the path to get there was painful. But, she is one tough and determined woman.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Well, I know what YOU do for a living! Then laughs hysterically.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Do you know Im writing a book? I replied.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">A book? A book about what?</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">My job.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Youre writing a book about being a demo lady? Who would read that?</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Well, hopefully a few. Youre in the book, Aretha.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">What? She stands up and puts her hands on her hips and gives me this stern look. Girl what you writing about me?</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Sit down Aretha. Youre making a scene. Then I wink at her. Stubbornly, she sits down crossing her arms across her chest in that defensive manner. Well, I dont have much about you yet. I want your story.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I dont have any story. I am who I am.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Everyone has a story. Even me. Would you be willing to tell me about your life? She sat there in that pose silently staring me down for about a minute. Tell me things like where you were born. You dont have to tell me your age because I know you have too much attitude for that. What was it like growing up? What were your parents like? Do you have family? What brought you to Vegas? Things like that.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Thatd be one damn boring story.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Eh I have time on my hands. Ill read a boring story.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I get another full minute of staring.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">I will get you whatever you need. You can do it on computer, paper and pencil, recorder anything. Maybe we could go to dinner one night and just chat.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Now Im in my third minute of staring.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Hmph. Ill think about it. Then she gets up to walk away.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">See you tomorrow at 4pm, Aretha.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="color: black">Damn. You are one nosey girl. And she walks out the door.</span></p><p><span style="color: black"></span></p><p> ........................................................</p><p></p><p> (Aretha's story IS very interesting, by the way.)</p><p></p><p> Abbey</p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Abbey, post: 184302, member: 179"] Two hours of writing at 5am...this is the latest installment. True story. (Remember, this is in [B]VERY[/B] raw form.) Any suggestions are always very welcome. ........................................................... [COLOR=black]Ethel continues to taunt me. I can see out the front door where my little cart is stationed. I see her wheel up no hat, but peek in to see if Im there. If Im there, she digs in her bag and dawns whatever the hat of the day is. She is quite creative. One day I put on a hat that we got in the store that had little blinking lights on the front of it. All she had was feathers. She looked at me, strolled by, then looked back with a glare.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]The next day she came in with her daughter, who is also wheelchair bound. Ethel introduces us. Her daughter, Camia, says, What are you doing to my mother??? Shes spending all her money on hats!! I nearly died laughing. So, I did what any crazy demo person would do is traded hats, then put on some disco music for a little fun. They loved it. We even got the Starbucks people and a few checkers and baggers out there for a minute. My manager just shook her head. But, she knows that our fun brings back these people day by day hopefully bringing them a little happiness in their life and hopefully business. Long gone are the days of the ancient demo lady in a bakers hat who just gives out food. [/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I may not be at my station 100% of the time. I dont like saying, Its on aisle 3, top shelf, half way down, right hand side. Id rather walk them there. The regulars have learned to say, Lets go for a walk.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I have two customers that I have become their personal shopper by default of being the first person they see when they walk in the door. Its starts with a simple request. Where is the bread? (Theyve only been shopping there for six years.) Come with me Ill show you. Ah, I need some tuna, too. Ok, lets go. Now I need some toilet paper. Ok this way.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]After my arms are loaded with groceries, I have to once again show them how to use the self check-out station. I dont really care. We had some great conversation along the way, and theyll be back tomorrow with new stories that Ill relish.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Bills neighbor came in today to question me having all the family and historical photos. I told him that I would certainly get them back to his family in a timely manner. I also said I was so sorry for his wifes sudden death. Well, it seems that it didnt just happen. Bills wife was killed four years ago, but for him it was just yesterday. He has no surviving family, just great neighborhood friends who watch over him, and the silly, caring people at my store who look forward to seeing him every day.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Its been a couple months since I first met Aretha. Our conversations are generally very short, but pleasant. Today she came in waving, then did her usual Starbucks run, but this time she came back with two drinks. She says, Stock up whatever youre pushing today and come sit down. It wasnt a request. It was an order. [/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Im sure my managers were initially suspicious when Id sit down with a customer, but after time they seemed to like seeing happy customers who returned every day. And, they actually started buying groceries! It got to be a running joke with them that if they wanted to take me away from my station, they had to BUY something. And they did.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I sat down with Aretha and had just general chit-chat. She said shes feeling a bit better lately as she has finished her third round of chemotherapy. Not wanting to dwell on something so serious that occupies your mind all the time, I changed the subject. After all these months of daily chat, I didnt know what she did for a living. Aretha is an investment broker and the path to get there was painful. But, she is one tough and determined woman.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Well, I know what YOU do for a living! Then laughs hysterically.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Do you know Im writing a book? I replied.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]A book? A book about what?[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]My job.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Youre writing a book about being a demo lady? Who would read that?[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Well, hopefully a few. Youre in the book, Aretha.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]What? She stands up and puts her hands on her hips and gives me this stern look. Girl what you writing about me?[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Sit down Aretha. Youre making a scene. Then I wink at her. Stubbornly, she sits down crossing her arms across her chest in that defensive manner. Well, I dont have much about you yet. I want your story.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I dont have any story. I am who I am.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Everyone has a story. Even me. Would you be willing to tell me about your life? She sat there in that pose silently staring me down for about a minute. Tell me things like where you were born. You dont have to tell me your age because I know you have too much attitude for that. What was it like growing up? What were your parents like? Do you have family? What brought you to Vegas? Things like that.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Thatd be one damn boring story.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Eh I have time on my hands. Ill read a boring story.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I get another full minute of staring.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]I will get you whatever you need. You can do it on computer, paper and pencil, recorder anything. Maybe we could go to dinner one night and just chat.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Now Im in my third minute of staring.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Hmph. Ill think about it. Then she gets up to walk away.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]See you tomorrow at 4pm, Aretha.[/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black]Damn. You are one nosey girl. And she walks out the door. [/COLOR] ........................................................ (Aretha's story IS very interesting, by the way.) Abbey [COLOR=black][/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [COLOR=black] [/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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