(no subject)
A new convenience store, "Trolly Market," was just built half a block away from my house. It's quite a nice place, complete with walk-in beer cooler, and its close proximity will save me from walking 4 blocks to Lombardy Market....
Of course, every silver lining's got a touch of grey. Did I just quote some Grateful Dead lyrics? I apologize...
Anyway, the point is that although this store is conveniently located and has a wide selection of both beer and snack foods, there's one problem: the clerk who's always working there.
He's one of those nickname guys. You know the type.
I showed him my ID the first time I bought some beer there. So, of course, he saw my name. As I was walking out, he says, "Thanks a lot, Andy. Come again."
Andy??
I had been somewhat prepared for this, since my roommate Daniel had previously complained of being called "Dan" by this douche. He's not a "Dan," and I am goddamn sure not an "Andy." Despite my warning, I was still taken aback. I've worked as a cashier before. I saw peoples' names on credit cards all the time. But it never even occurred to me to call the customers by some shortened version of their names. Even though I hated the customers with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, I never allowed myself to stoop to that level of douchebaggery.
It's really a bizarre situation. I hate being called "Andy," but I also don't really want to make a big deal out of it. I mean, the only time I ever see the guy is when I go to buy beer. So I guess it really isn't worth it to set him straight. That would only make the whole thing even more awkward, and probably result in me continuing to walk 4 blocks to Lombardy Market, where the clerk just says "What's up, man," and then goes back to watching college basketball or whatever the hell is on the TV. That's how the clerk-customer relationship is SUPPOSED to be. Cold and impersonal. The guy behind the counter is not some good buddy of mine. He's just a guy with whom I'm trying to execute an economic transaction. So, in conclusion, I propose a toast to capitalism and to store clerks who don't try too hard.....
Of course, every silver lining's got a touch of grey. Did I just quote some Grateful Dead lyrics? I apologize...
Anyway, the point is that although this store is conveniently located and has a wide selection of both beer and snack foods, there's one problem: the clerk who's always working there.
He's one of those nickname guys. You know the type.
I showed him my ID the first time I bought some beer there. So, of course, he saw my name. As I was walking out, he says, "Thanks a lot, Andy. Come again."
Andy??
I had been somewhat prepared for this, since my roommate Daniel had previously complained of being called "Dan" by this douche. He's not a "Dan," and I am goddamn sure not an "Andy." Despite my warning, I was still taken aback. I've worked as a cashier before. I saw peoples' names on credit cards all the time. But it never even occurred to me to call the customers by some shortened version of their names. Even though I hated the customers with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, I never allowed myself to stoop to that level of douchebaggery.
It's really a bizarre situation. I hate being called "Andy," but I also don't really want to make a big deal out of it. I mean, the only time I ever see the guy is when I go to buy beer. So I guess it really isn't worth it to set him straight. That would only make the whole thing even more awkward, and probably result in me continuing to walk 4 blocks to Lombardy Market, where the clerk just says "What's up, man," and then goes back to watching college basketball or whatever the hell is on the TV. That's how the clerk-customer relationship is SUPPOSED to be. Cold and impersonal. The guy behind the counter is not some good buddy of mine. He's just a guy with whom I'm trying to execute an economic transaction. So, in conclusion, I propose a toast to capitalism and to store clerks who don't try too hard.....