Job dissatisfaction

One of the last jobs I actively sought was in 1989. I was new to Arizona, a senior in high school, and needing some spending cash. Our local supermarket , Fry's, was hiring baggers. I applied, and was turned away. Shortly thereafter, I was hired at a Hallmark store, and quickly advanced up the card ladder to balloon bouquet arranger. I never looked back.

When Scot and I returned to Scottsdale 7 years ago, we bought a house in the same neighborhood where I had lived in high school. We started frequenting the same stores, including the supermarket that had passed me up many years ago. On one of our shopping trips Scot noticed the tag one of the baggers was wearing. It said "Lisa", "A Fry's employee since 1989." Lisa is mentally challenged. Not Down's Syndrome, just not quite right. She weighs about 260 pounds and sports a blond bowl cut. Whenever I enter her lane, Lisa has a running conversation with herself. Scot still loves to tell me that Lisa beat me out of the job, that she is my "competition."

Yesterday I committed a supermarket faux-pas and entered the 15-item-or-less line with a handful too many items. It was an honest oversight. The line was empty when I entered, and more importantly, empty when I exited. I apologized to the checker, who didn't seem to care. It was then I noticed Lisa throwing my bananas into my recyclable bag. And hurling the corn into a corner. Lisa had a problem with my choice of lines. As she loaded, she muttered under her breath. A steady stream of incomprehensible grunts and groans followed each item into the bag. Thinking Lisa was having her own private moment of misery for Day 4650 of Bagging Hell, I started to leave. "THIS is an Express Lane, ma'am. " "15 items or less, " Lisa bellowed in her testosterone heavy voice. I looked around, embarrassed. I was being called out. And I wasn't going away without a fight. "Oh, we all make mistakes don't we," I said. "I'm sure you never have, though, huh," I continued.

I wasn't finished. I marched right up to the Customer Service Desk and promptly ratted out Lisa. I would not be treated like a naughty child. Forget the fact that Lisa still lives with her parents and endures a difficult life . I'm choosing to ignore the realities of her life right now. These are damn hard economic times. DHL is issuing a slew of pink slips this week. My husband's job is at stake. I might need to find a job. And Fry's might have one for me now.