I think the lesson here is: never volunteer. NEV-ER VOL-UN-TEER!
About a month ago one of the managers asked me if I could work yesterday, Sunday being my regular day off. I said sure, but then all the managers got moved around and we got a new manager from another store and in all the confusion I didn't get scheduled, so I volunteered and they scheduled me. They scheduled me, in fact, at eight o'clock in the morning, which is five hours earlier than I usually work
To console myself for having to drag my sorry self out of bed at six A.M., I stopped off at Casey's for a nice cappucino and that's where it all started. One of the clerks came up behind me quietly while I was looking in the donut case and when I turned around I elbowed her in the small of the back. Hard. She said she was okay but it had to have hurt her. It hurt me!
Embarrassed and appalled, I paid for my donut and cappucino and started to leave. As I was making my exit a nicely-dressed elderly gentleman approached, so I tried to hold the door for him. The lid came off the cappucino, it hit the ground and spattered all over the poor man's pants!
All I could do was apologize and leave before I hurt anyone else. As I backed out, the clerk I'd elbowed was helping wipe English toffee spatters from the gentleman's shoes with a napkin.
Turning into the Walmart lot, I almost dropped my donut. Twice.
I finally made it work, where everyone was gathered around the front windows watching two or three young men getting arrested and having their car searched. (Nothing like being drunk and disordely on the Walmart parking lot at 8:00 Sunday morning!) Then, let's see . . . . I almost hit Shelena with the produce cart. Then I almost hit Keith with the produce cart. I dropped about a half a dozen boxes of cookies, kept sticking sell-by labels to each other instead of to the product, and paged for a manager when, as it happened, I didn't really need one. Oh, and the vending machine ate my change but kept my corn chips.
I also discovered that we got in the first shipment of cider this season, but I didn't spill any which, under the circumstances, probably counts as a minor miracle. By the time I got off work I was almost afraid to drive home, but at least I've learned my lesson.