Not because I’m a freak who’s afraid of everything. I outgrew that by age 6. No, it’s how many intellectually challenged people there are in the world that scare me. There are so many people out and about, walking amongst us, who cannot grasp the simple concepts that get us through our daily lives.

In my work, one of the projects I manage requires people to visit my office at scheduled times. This is kept separate from the other work I do, and it includes having a separate entrance. I have signs on the doors to let people know which door to use, but they’re no help – regular business people go in the door for project people and vice versa. Also, for the project people there is a sign indicating that the office opens 15 minutes before their scheduled appointment time, and if it’s not within that time, I have the door locked so I can get regular business work done. I can’t even begin to count how many people try to go through the door, find it locked, peek in the window, try the door again, peek in the window again, and walk away. The 15 minute sign is at eye level right on the door, so it’s not like I’m trying to trick anyone. BTW, this project deals with people who hope to be on the front lines of national security – that’s the scariest part.

I used to work in a supermarket. I never fully realized how many intellectually challenged people there are in the world until I started working there in high school. There were people who couldn’t figure out how much money to give you, people with a $20 budget who came through the checkout with a full carriage and couldn’t figure out how much they had to take off, little old ladies who insisted a bag with a single item was too heavy (I actually had a lady do this to me with a 5lb bag of sugar), and my favorite, the little old ladies who wanted to get the exact change for you, pulled out a change purse that weighed more than they did, rummaged around in it for about 5 minutes, then announced that the did not have the change they were looking for, when there was probably around $40 in loose change in their purse. All this in the express line. And I can’t even mention the supermarket with a shout out to Coupon Claire. You know the type – 40 coupons, 3 items. Items from the reduced rack for which the face value of the coupon was higher than the price of the item. Always trying to make you pay her for shopping there. Was in 4 times a week and never gave up trying. Oh yeah, customer service is fun.

In my current retail job (job #2, that is) at the shoe store, I get a lot of overseas tourists, so usually it’s only cultural and language barriers that frustrate me and not sheer stupidity. And since I’ve been there awhile, it’s easy to predict what they will want. The Germans and those of African descent will want shoes just above the sizes that we carry. The Asian ladies will want shoes in sizes just below our normal range. And of course the Asians (men and women), when shopping for handbags, will tear the store apart for an hour making their selection, then they’ll want a handbag from the back room that is still in the packaging and has been untouched by human hands. Being an outlet store with a lot of clearance merchandise, this is only possible about half the time, but since they don’t understand much English and/or the whole outlet/clearance concept, I spend about 10 minutes trying to explain this to them before they figure it out and spend another half hour tearing the store apart trying to find one on our shelves that is good enough for them. By this point the store has closed for the evening and I want to leave, so they’d better be buying a LOT – for a big sale I can leave the store a mess, but if they tear through and walk out well after closing without purchasing anything, well, if I were Catholic I’d need to go to confession for the things I’m thinking about these people.

I used to have a similar customer at the supermarket, at least as far as disregard for store hours went. She’d come in about 3 hours before the store closed, sit herself on one of the Handi-carts, and get on with her shopping. Sort of. About 10 minutes after the store closed, she’d finally make her way to the checkout with a list of things she couldn’t find. We’d run around getting it for her because we wanted to leave before the store opened for business the next day. And she loved to buy multiples of the same item – try this one on for size: 150 cans of Fancy Feast cat food (the tiny cans) and she’d want them not only scanned but bagged by flavor. There was to be total flavor segregation – if she had 2 cans of a particular flavor, they went in a separate bag. Double bagged, actually. Caitlin, if you’re reading this, be so glad you never worked in the Salem store! The only reason I’m glad she always came through after the store closed was that I didn’t have to deal with the customers who might end up in line behind her – it happened once, and I do believe they were having homicidal thoughts after having to wait behind her! I did get huge praises for keeping my cool with her (by that point I knew her though, and once you got used to her she was easy to deal with).

Ah yes, customer service. Those of us who do that job know that it should be one of the highest paying jobs there is. If I had a nickel for every time I said, “They don’t pay me enough to put up with this shit,” then I’d be on the Forbes list with Oprah and Mr. Bill from that computer company. What can I do about it (besides trying to avoid those kinds of jobs altogether)? Just grit my teeth, smile, and enjoy the employee discount.

A shake up at work today! I never thought I’d see the day. Dr. Grandma has announced she is taking another job. It’s right down the street, and our professional paths will surely cross again in the future, but come on. She’s our rock! She keeps us all in line! She’s the one we turn to when we have a weird rash! Ok, not necessarily that last one, but she does know a thing or 2 about medicine.

We cried. Colorful Texan was useless during our meeting. Mad Scientist cried like a baby. Pretty Lady Dammit and I just sat there in shock. And Time-Flying Dudette is on vacation. She’ll come back to an empty office and will suffer the same shock we all did.

The thing that struck me is that Dr. Grandma said it was the hardest decision she’s ever had to make in her life. My decision to sell my house and move clear across the country to a city where I had no family was easy, but trying to make the decision on where to go from here is much harder. This workplace is a huge part of what keeps me here, but I know eventually we all have to move on. The question now is trying to figure out why I even want to move on this time besides the pure economics of it.