Tuesday, June 22, 2004

As you may know, I am a cashier. Yup, a master of a computer with a scanner running software developed sometime when...

(Holy crap!!! I just killed a spider in my room and I think it was a black widow!)

...communists were still a perceived threat. (Korea, schmorea.) Also attached to these computers are pads used to collect signatures. Pay with a card and I'll put your receipt on the pad and have you sign it with a handy pen attached to the pad. I leave the pen in a nice litle slot in the pad, a place designed solely to provide a place to rest for out little ink spewing friend.

(Our pens are substantially smaller than octopi.)

Under noraml circumstances you will pick the pen up from it's cradle and sign away. Now, strangely, about 75% of the people who complete these first few steps seem to be under the impression that I want to hold the pen next. They sign me over their little I.O.U. and then hold up the pen for me to take. Why?! What do I want the stupid pen for?!?!?! Put the danged pen back!!! Common sence people. Anyway...

Father's Day went by without any freak outs. Hurrah for me!!!

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