Ok so I work as a cashier and this lady came in and I thought she was speaking a foreign language, but then I realized she was talking to her infant who was strapped in her shopping cart. She looked about 30 and her baby was like a year old. It was early in the morning so I figured she was a housewife.

Then when she went to pay for her things she kept repeating all the things she needed to get done during the day in baby talk.

I thought it was cute, weird, and sad all at the same time.

I’m 20 yrs old with no kids or a boyfriend. I dont see myself rushing into motherhood anytime soon, but I honestly never want to be like that lady because its odd to baby talk like that to adults.

Is it strange or am I just frowning upon the ‘wonderful’ world of motherhood?

When I was growing up, I was taught that the only way to get anywhere in life is to pray hard, study hard and work hard. Nothing was given to me on a “silver platter”, and I never expected it to be. These days though, people always have their hands out for a freebie, and they seem to expect things to just be given to them.

Example one: The mother in Wal-Mart with 7 kids, 2 carts, one full of WIC approved food, the other stacked with cases of beer and cigarettes. She pulls out a WIC card from her designer wallet, out of her designer purse, with her perfectly manicured hand that she just ran through her perfectly highlighted hair, all while pulling up her designer jeans that are too tighter and pulling down her too small designer halter top and then turns to tell little “Juan Benito Carlos Jose Lopez the 4” to be quiet while she pulls out 3 hundred dollar bills to pay for her boyfriend’s beer and toxic cigarettes.

Example two: La’shaquanda, who is covered in tattoos while sporting a god awful blonde and blood red weave, is screaming at her 7 kids “Dante, Lashayla, Lamonda, Latonya, Lafonda, Laquantavia and Bon qui qui” to “be quiets” while she whips out her WIC card to pay for her cheese and milk, and then screams at the poor cashier when she says the card isn’t reading.

What the hell? Whatever happened to going out, GETTING A JOB! PAYING YOUR TAXES!, AND BUYING YOUR OWN DAMN FOOD?! America is NOT some endless bank where you can take and take and take and give nothing back to! Quit getting illegal jobs, quit thinking its “okay” to use WIC to buy your food so you still have money for beer and weed, Quit assuming that America “owes” you something and for the love of God QUIT HAVING KIDS IF YOU CAN”T AFFORD EM!

I’m not racist, my mother is African American and my father is Puerto Rican. I have a healthy respect for any legal American who pays their taxes and doesn’t abuse the system. But my God, don’t swim across the better to build a “better life” for yourself if all your gonna do is steal from the hard working Americans! Don’t get up in arms about being a slave 120 years ago, when in reality you weren’t even THOUGHT of yet! American doesn’t owe ANYONE ANYTHING! HHHHHH!

Does anyone agree with me? Are people in American getting a bigger sense of “enlightenment”?

Should there be serious restrictions put on WIC/any other government assistance cards?
You’re right, having parents of foreign decent doesn’t mean that I’m not racist, however, the sentence that followed DOES mean that I am not racist.

"I have a healthy respect for any legal American who pays their taxes and doesn’t abuse the system."

*sigh* Either read it all, or don’t comment.
You bet your a$$ I’m using racial stereotypes. You wanna know why?! Because its TRUE! If you’re (and I use that term in general, NOT directed at you) are gonna go out and abuse the system, then you better be ready for people like me to be waiting to call you on it.

America is not the never ending bank of "gimme". You CANNOT take away from us if you have no intention of PUTTING IT BACK!

I have extremely wacky dreams, and I tend to remember all of them. As it turns out, not everyone can remember their dreams. Well, here is an example of a dream I had a few years ago:

I was looking at the main menu for a video game, and when I clicked "Play", I was IN the game with a bunch of other people my age I had never seen before. Apparently, we were looking for this villain that looked kind of like a genie, was dark blue, and could freeze anything. So me and these people were walking up this hill, when a helicopter flew overhead. It started to touch down on the ground – almost right on top of me. I fell over facedown, and then the pilot of the helicopter spoke to me through some microphone. He said, "He’s gone." (I assume he was talking about this villain.) And then it just flew away. So me and these people went to a supermarket, where the shopping carts could only be moved by pedaling on a bicycle. In the dream, I didn’t know how to ride a bike, so I had to sit on this bench attached to the cart while my apparent friends pedaled. This old man came over and said he didn’t know how to ride a bike, and asked if he could ride with us. We agreed. Suddenly, my dream cut right to us at the cashier, and whenever we rang up our items, they came up at the incorrect price, and the cashier for some reason got mad at us. And then, the store manager screamed, "Everyone out!" and we all ran out of the supermarket and hid underneath cars in the parking lot. The manager said, "We’re going in!" and took his 9 year old son into the supermarket. Suddenly the lights went out and he yelled, "Shut up!" Then the lights came back on and he and his son walked back out. "It’s okay everyone!" he yelled. After we left, the supermarket kind of just froze in place, and this villain came out of the storage room and sort of floated over to the cashier, who was frozen and staring ahead like this: O_O The villain went, "What did you see?" and she said in this kind of robot voice, "I saw a girl and a grandpa, who’s items came up at the wrong price." The villain then let out a sinister growl, then I woke up.

What is with all this? I’ve had other dreams that include Obama running away from the US, heaven, and my aunt and Mom crashing into a chapel in a mini van. I love to write, so I have a cool imagination, but this just sounds insane! Is there some reason that I’m having such obscure dreams?

My friend has a family member who has 2 daughters, 1 is 4yrs old and the other is about to turn 2. They are both VERY overweight they are nowhere near the 75th percentile for weight and to make matters worse, they both have being short in their genes. Anywho, ALL they do is eat kraft mac & cheese, bologna, fruit gummy snacks, freezer waffles, cereal (reeses puffs, fruit loops, etc.) pieces of cheese, cottage cheese, mcdonalds and any other fast food you can think of. It’s sick! Very FEW times have I seen either of these babies eat anything healthy. And the almost 2 year old has been eating like this since she was 9 months old! Once she got a taste of food adults eat she wouldn’t eat baby food anymore. Is this considered child abuse? I don’t personally agree with the way the mother raises these babies either. If they want something, they automatically get it…especially food! And all they do all day long is eat! If the youngest cries, they used to stick a bottle of formula in front of her, now they stick any food they can find in front of her. But anywho, when they go to a store, the MOTHER asks them if they want to go look at toys! The kids never ask to, the mom offers it and then lets them get whatever! And one day i seen them in the store and the eldest was throwing a complete fit so the mom stuck her in the cart and she proceeded to throw a fit and threw across the store, the toy that the mom was going to get her….the mom went and picked it up a nd LAUGHED and handed it to the cashier to get paid for and then handed it back to the daughter who threw it AGAIN because she didn’t get it when she wanted it. is all of this considered child abuse? I don’t know what to do but I can’t stand to see her raise these kids like this! Especially with how downhill our society is going already!
As$ that gave the definition: MALTREATMENT to me is the same as MALNUTRITION!

I know so much about them because I’m a close family friend and am around quite a bit, thanks.

And neglect is also a factor, she has an unattatched garage and leaves the babies inside so she can go outside to smoke when she has a "stressful" day.

Clothed? These kids are half naked all the time. They don’t wear shoes when they go out. The eldest is not potty trained yet and both kids sit in diapers all day long. They have prescribed rash treatment because their rashes get bad to the point that their poor butts and vagina’s bleed.

Anyone else want to criticise? Encouraging your kids to be fat and unhealthy is basically wishing death upon them. Their dad already has diabetes and has had half of his limbs partially amputated.
Also look up the ingredients in that crap…all PROCESSED. None of it is natural or healthy..especially at that age!

We all have at one time worked minimum wage jobs when we were teenagers. Minimum wage jobs are something you do when you’re in high school … maybe college, and in less common ways in graduate school. Then you move on and do something more productive. There is nothing I find more self satisfying than seeing the 32 year old pizza guy delivering pizza to my house. I just absolutely love it! In this country, everybody has at least the opportunity to go to a community college, and it isn’t that difficult to go to a state university, if you choose to do that. So anybody who is 32 and is asking me if I want paper or plastic … At one time we drank milk from our mommy’s baba, but eventually you put the baba down and drink from a cup. If somebody is 32 and still drinking out of a baba, then you got a problem. People get mad at me when I bag on those who work low run jobs. Have I worked at a Carvel Ice Cream store? Yes I have. Was I a telephone solicitor and did I sell bottom of the barrel stuff? Yes I have. Did I work as a cashier at a grocery store as I was a kid going to college? Yes I did. Did I deliver newspapers? Yes I did. Did I sell advertising in lousy community newspapers over the telephone and make minimum conditions. Yes, but I did these things while I was working my way towards something better. I am not coming over to wax your car today. I don’t do detailing. I’m not coming over to your place to deliver pizza. I’m not going to bring groceries to your car. Ok.

Here’s a rewarding career. Here’s someone who knocked up his girl friend, and you know who I’m talking about. The guy who stands at the exit at Costco with the yellow high lighting pen. And he looks … of course you got 6 worth of stuff in the cart … and he gives this cursory glace to your cart … you can’t see everything that’s in the cart. Then he takes that yellow marker and runs it through the receipt, so you can’t try going through the exist again. That’s very rewarding work. *sarcasim* I just want to know the name of your bastard child and where the mother lives. When I see that guy, I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking about that.

Ya know, when I’m in a fast food joint and I’m deciding whether I want pastrami on my burger or cheese steak. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "what time does the baby sitter have to go home tonight?" I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking it.

When I go in for a .99 oil change, and there you are draining all the transmission fluid out of my car. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "does this place actually have a retirement plan?"It’s just the way it is.

Ya know, we all start at ground zero. Most of us start with very little. Some of us with nothing. We all have the same public school systems. And we have community colleges. We have state universities. We have opportunities to do things with our lives. We also have the opportunities to use condoms, to not have sex with trailer trash that’s gonna get knocked up. We have opportunites. We have decisions to make during our lives. Yes I think it’s perfectly fantastic when you’re a senior in high school and working as a cashier at Costco. I think that’s great. When you’re 16, 17, or 18 … that’s great. But when I read these stories in the newspaper about people working at Albertsons the supermarket, talking about going on strike, and you got interviews with 38 year old people who are cashiers … I’m laughing my butt off at you. I’m laughing my butt off. I’m sorry, I know it’s politically incorrect to say this, because you’re suppose to say that everyone is equal, everything is beautiful in it’s own way, you’re suppose to say these things, right? And every job is good and great to have hard working Americans … that’s what you’re suppose to say. But the reality is that some of you guys just decided to ride bear back when you were 16 and now you’re stuck going on strike at Albertsons or where ever you’re going on strike. You kidding me?

Any feedback at all is welcome. Thx in advance!

——–

Marionette Bordure was having a day. Her sanity danced near the emergency exit of her mind, holding on with strings as tenuous as her name suggested.

She pointed an unsteady gun at the acne-covered gas station teller, squinting through her pantyhose mask, making sure he wasn’t pressing any panic buttons.

“Hey kid,” she said, “step in front of the counter.”

“Don’t shoot,” he blubbered, hands up, stumbling. “Don’t… Don’t…”

“Put these on.”

Marion tossed a set of heavy handcuffs at the kid. He jumped and the cuffs hit him in the chest then clattered to the ground. For a few moments he stared at them stupidly, apparently afraid to move. She waggled the gun and the cashier hurried to cuff his own wrists together.

“Where’re the magazines?” Marion asked.

“The what?”

“The magazines!”

“Magazines?”

She yanked the panty hose up over her head, uncovering her face.

“Magazines!”

The cashier pointed toward the rack of People and Us Weekly’s near the front door.

“No, not those,” Marion said.

“We don’t have porno ones,” the cashier said with the assurance of someone who’d checked every corner of the convenience store for Playboys.

“Not a porno magazine! What kind of person you think I am?”

“I dunno! What kind of person robs a store for magazines?”

“Those are too old,” Marion explained nodding at the magazine rack at the front door. “You got a new shipment? The Globe or The Enquirer or one of those ‘2 headed baby’ or ‘ufo sighting’ magazines?”

The kid looked lost.

Marion sighed. She pulled out a second pair of handcuffs and threw them at the cashier. These also hit his chest and clattered to the ground.

“Just cuff yourself to that shelf,” she said. “I need to go into the back room and can’t have you wandering around calling 911.”

As he fumbled to handcuff his already-handcuffed wrists to the shelf, she went to the back room. She found a bottled water and emptied its contents all over the cheap-looking security terminal. The dark green monitor sparked and popped and went blank. Marion figured that was enough to disrupt any footage that had captured her face. She wasn’t sure, though; she wasn’t exactly a pro at armed robbery.

It took a few minutes of rummaging through the cluttered back room, but she found a shipment of The Globe beneath a shipment of Doritos single packs. She pulled the cardboard apart and found the magazines.

Splashed across each magazine cover was Marion’s own impish face framed by orange, curly hair. She knew she only needed one copy, but she took the whole box anyway.

“Thanks kid,” she said. The sliding doors sighed shut behind her. Marion opened the trunk of her acid green Smart car. She propped the box of magazines on its side, then pressed the unwilling trunk door against her growing stash of treasures until she heard the latch click.

Marion plopped herself into the front seat and grabbed the checklist from the cluttered passenger seat.

— Rt 208 at River Rd, April 29, 1993, 2 pairs of handcuffs, 1 gun —

Marion crossed it off. 7 down.

Then, as if it had been hidden by invisible ink, an 8th item appended itself to the list.

— 6th St at Main, December 12, 1974, 4 ft rope, 1 Barbie doll, 3oz fresh tuna —

Marionette Bordure threw the list aside and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“I hate going backwards,” she whined at the dashboard. But it’s not like whining ever changed Their mind. She revved the engine and sped off with the dignity of a go-cart, pressing the “Backwards” button on the steering wheel and waiting for the nausea to hit.

The rip in the time continuum wasn’t going to repair itself, after all.

I like to wear a elaborate Jar Jar Binks costume and mask as part of my every day life. I went to the grocery store, and saw how depressed everyone was so I thought I would help. I started dancing in the aisles, and yelling at people, and running up to people and taking things out of their cart. It was great fun. Then when I went to check out, there was only one lane open and a long line. I screamed and screamed while in line and danced, bumping into other people. I opened a box of baking soda and threw it around. Finally I got to the checkout. I started making noises at the cashier, and I kept pressing buttons on the computer. Some people in line were groaning because the line was getting very long, but that gave me even more incentive to make them laugh. I climbed onto the table and started kicking peoples groceries on the floor and singing. The manager and one of his goons pulled me off and said I could never shop there again. Can I sue for harrasement or possibly assualt?

Any feedback at all is welcome. Thx in advance!

——–

Marionette Bordure was having a day. Her sanity danced near the emergency exit of her mind, holding on with strings as tenuous as her name suggested.

She pointed an unsteady gun at the acne-covered gas station teller, squinting through her pantyhose mask, making sure he wasn’t pressing any panic buttons.

“Hey kid,” she said, “step in front of the counter.”

“Don’t shoot,” he blubbered, hands up, stumbling. “Don’t… Don’t…”

“Put these on.”

Marion tossed a set of heavy handcuffs at the kid. He jumped and the cuffs hit him in the chest then clattered to the ground. For a few moments he stared at them stupidly, apparently afraid to move. She waggled the gun and the cashier hurried to cuff his own wrists together.

“Where’re the magazines?” Marion asked.

“The what?”

“The magazines!”

“Magazines?”

She yanked the panty hose up over her head, uncovering her face.

“Magazines!”

The cashier pointed toward the rack of People and Us Weekly’s near the front door.

“No, not those,” Marion said.

“We don’t have porno ones,” the cashier said with the assurance of someone who’d checked every corner of the convenience store for Playboys.

“Not a porno magazine! What kind of person you think I am?”

“I dunno! What kind of person robs a store for magazines?”

“Those are too old,” Marion explained nodding at the magazine rack at the front door. “You got a new shipment? The Globe or The Enquirer or one of those ‘2 headed baby’ or ‘ufo sighting’ magazines?”

The kid looked lost.

Marion sighed. She pulled out a second pair of handcuffs and threw them at the cashier. These also hit his chest and clattered to the ground.

“Just cuff yourself to that shelf,” she said. “I need to go into the back room and can’t have you wandering around calling 911.”

As he fumbled to handcuff his already-handcuffed wrists to the shelf, she went to the back room. She found a bottled water and emptied its contents all over the cheap-looking security terminal. The dark green monitor sparked and popped and went blank. Marion figured that was enough to disrupt any footage that had captured her face. She wasn’t sure, though; she wasn’t exactly a pro at armed robbery.

It took a few minutes of rummaging through the cluttered back room, but she found a shipment of The Globe beneath a shipment of Doritos single packs. She pulled the cardboard apart and found the magazines.

Splashed across each magazine cover was Marion’s own impish face framed by orange, curly hair. She knew she only needed one copy, but she took the whole box anyway.

“Thanks kid,” she said. The sliding doors sighed shut behind her. Marion opened the trunk of her acid green Smart car. She propped the box of magazines on its side, then pressed the unwilling trunk door against her growing stash of treasures until she heard the latch click.

Marion plopped herself into the front seat and grabbed the checklist from the cluttered passenger seat.

— Rt 208 at River Rd, April 29, 1993, 2 pairs of handcuffs, 1 gun —

Marion crossed it off. 7 down.

Then, as if it had been hidden by invisible ink, an 8th item appended itself to the list.

— 6th St at Main, December 12, 1974, 4 ft rope, 1 Barbie doll, 3oz fresh tuna —

Marionette Bordure threw the list aside and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“I hate going backwards,” she whined at the dashboard. But it’s not like whining ever changed Their mind. She revved the engine and sped off with the dignity of a go-cart, pressing the “Backwards” button on the steering wheel and waiting for the nausea to hit.

The rip in the time continuum wasn’t going to repair itself, after all.

I am a non-Hispanic brown guy. In my entire life, there have been a disproportionate number of rude people from the Black ethnic group than from the White group. This is not tantamount to saying that every Black person I have met was rude. That’s not the case. But certainly, it is palpable to me that Blacks are more likely to be rude in public than are White people.

Of course, there are many great Black people I admire: the incumbent president, the first lady, Will Smith, Kerry Washington, Chris Tucker, Chris Rock, Eminem (lol), Morgan Freeman, and others. But this fails to translate into everyday experiences with many Blacks. And I am not saying Brown people are any better.

I live in one of the most urban places in North Carolina. In fact, the part of North Carolina I live in has the most number of PhDs on a per capita basis in the entire United States. And it is pretty integrated too. Here, every time I go to a Sams Club or Walgreens — literally every time — the cashier is usually Black, as do many of the staff; and they are very rude. Today, my dad and I went shopping and the Black cashier was very indifferent to us, as usual. When the cart was on the usual side, she asked us to bring it to her side in a very rude tone, because the water bottles were on the cart and she didn’t want to look at it from her usual place. I would have confronted her had I gone with my brother. But today I just ignored her and left.

It is an entirely different experience with White people. They are much more polite, even more than Brown people of my specific ethnic group. Interestingly, the city I live in is comprised 45% of Whites and 44% of Blacks (11% others). So anyway you look at my experiences — collectively or per capita — my observations still hold to some precision.

I went to a grocery store and purchased 6.87 worth of items.

The cashier thought the credit card machine was not working, therefore, swiping my card 3 times.

I look at my bank statement online the following day, and it shows 4 total debits of 6.87. This means my grocery cart cost me 0.61, plus the 6.87 that is rightfully theirs.

I take my statement to the manager, and the manager refuses to credit my account until a huge fuss is made.

This is the cheapest place to purchase groceries, so I went the following week and well…. the manager came up to me in public and told me "Excuse me, management would prefer if you did not shop here anymore. Please exit now. Thank you."

Being ripped off and being humiliated in public, and being thrown out of a store when I did nothing wrong –

do I have any legal defense?

Does the store owner have the right to do this?

I went to a grocery store and purchased 6.87 worth of items.

The cashier thought the credit card machine was not working, therefore, swiping my card 3 times.

I look at my bank statement online the following day, and it shows 4 total debits of 6.87. This means my grocery cart cost me 0.61, plus the 6.87 that is rightfully theirs.

I take my statement to the manager, and the manager refuses to credit my account until a huge fuss is made.

This is the cheapest place to purchase groceries, so I went the following week and well…. the manager came up to me in public and told me "Excuse me, management would prefer if you did not shop here anymore. Please exit now. Thank you."

Being ripped off and being humiliated in public, and being thrown out of a store when I did nothing wrong —

do I have any legal defense?

Does the store owner have the right to do this?
I did get my money back after speaking to the manager the first time; however, after rightfully returning my money, he in turn kicked me out.
Actually, no hissy fit was thrown. Argument only took place when I went back to get the charges back onto my account only because the bank would have taken over a month to investigate into the situation, and that money was set aside to go into a CD, so I had needed it right away. The bank was going to waste time, so I took matters into my own hands.

I did not throw a hissy fit when I was asked to leave. I left my cart as is, and said "Suite yourself."

And the only reason I really want to go back is because normally a cart-full of groceries would run me over 0. It’s the cheapest place in town.
Actually, there is nothing I am leaving out of the story. I showed the manager my statement and he said "Not my problem."
The same thing happened to a friend of mine. She went to taco bell and multiple charges of "" were debited from her account on the same day. It took over 3 months of investigation to have her money returned to her although it is painfully obvious it was a fruadulant charge.

I went to a grocery store and purchased 6.87 worth of items.

The cashier thought the credit card machine was not working, therefore, swiping my card 3 times.

I look at my bank statement online the following day, and it shows 4 total debits of 6.87. This means my grocery cart cost me 0.61, plus the 6.87 that is rightfully theirs.

I take my statement to the manager, and the manager refuses to credit my account until a huge fuss is made.

This is the cheapest place to purchase groceries, so I went the following week and well…. the manager came up to me in public and told me "Excuse me, management would prefer if you did not shop here anymore. Please exit now. Thank you."

Being ripped off and being humiliated in public, and being thrown out of a store when I did nothing wrong –

do I have any legal defense?

Does the store owner have the right to do this?

Its about a 24 cashier store, and the slogan for the movie went something like "When the night shift gets boring, turn on your imagination." I Know the last part of the slogan is right, but not the night shift part. I just can’t remember what it is called.
AHHH!! yes WAlter! oh baby. woaw. finally. CAshback is correct! thank you.

We all have at one time worked minimum wage jobs when we were teenagers. Minimum wage jobs are something you do when you’re in high school … maybe college, and in less common ways in graduate school. Then you move on and do something more productive. There is nothing I find more self satisfying than seeing the 32 year old pizza guy delivering pizza to my house. I just absolutely love it! In this country, everybody has at least the opportunity to go to a community college, and it isn’t that difficult to go to a state university, if you choose to do that. So anybody who is 32 and is asking me if I want paper or plastic … At one time we drank milk from our mommy’s baba, but eventually you put the baba down and drink from a cup. If somebody is 32 and still drinking out of a baba, then you got a problem. People get mad at me when I bag on those who work low run jobs. Have I worked at a Carvel Ice Cream store? Yes I have. Was I a telephone solicitor and did I sell bottom of the barrel stuff? Yes I have. Did I work as a cashier at a grocery store as I was a kid going to college? Yes I did. Did I deliver newspapers? Yes I did. Did I sell advertising in lousy community newspapers over the telephone and make minimum conditions. Yes, but I did these things while I was working my way towards something better. I am not coming over to wax your car today. I don’t do detailing. I’m not coming over to your place to deliver pizza. I’m not going to bring groceries to your car. Ok.

Here’s a rewarding career. Here’s someone who knocked up his girl friend, and you know who I’m talking about. The guy who stands at the exit at Costco with the yellow high lighting pen. And he looks … of course you got 6 worth of stuff in the cart … and he gives this cursory glace to your cart … you can’t see everything that’s in the cart. Then he takes that yellow marker and runs it through the receipt, so you can’t try going through the exist again. That’s very rewarding work. *sarcasim* I just want to know the name of your bastard child and where the mother lives. When I see that guy, I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking about that.

Ya know, when I’m in a fast food joint and I’m deciding whether I want pastrami on my burger or cheese steak. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "what time does the baby sitter have to go home tonight?" I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking it.

When I go in for a .99 oil change, and there you are draining all the transmission fluid out of my car. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "does this place actually have a retirement plan?"It’s just the way it is.

Ya know, we all start at ground zero. Most of us start with very little. Some of us with nothing. We all have the same public school systems. And we have community colleges. We have state universities. We have opportunities to do things with our lives. We also have the opportunities to use condoms, to not have sex with trailer trash that’s gonna get knocked up. We have opportunites. We have decisions to make during our lives. Yes I think it’s perfectly fantastic when you’re a senior in high school and working as a cashier at Costco. I think that’s great. When you’re 16, 17, or 18 … that’s great. But when I read these stories in the newspaper about people working at Albertsons the supermarket, talking about going on strike, and you got interviews with 38 year old people who are cashiers … I’m laughing my butt off at you. I’m laughing my butt off. I’m sorry, I know it’s politically incorrect to say this, because you’re suppose to say that everyone is equal, everything is beautiful in it’s own way, you’re suppose to say these things, right? And every job is good and great to have hard working Americans … that’s what you’re suppose to say. But the reality is that some of you guys just decided to ride bear back when you were 16 and now you’re stuck going on strike at Albertsons or where ever you’re going on strike. You kidding me?

We all have at one time worked minimum wage jobs when we were teenagers. Minimum wage jobs are something you do when you’re in high school … maybe college, and in less common ways in graduate school. Then you move on and do something more productive. There is nothing I find more self satisfying than seeing the 32 year old pizza guy delivering pizza to my house. I just absolutely love it! In this country, everybody has at least the opportunity to go to a community college, and it isn’t that difficult to go to a state university, if you choose to do that. So anybody who is 32 and is asking me if I want paper or plastic … At one time we drank milk from our mommy’s baba, but eventually you put the baba down and drink from a cup. If somebody is 32 and still drinking out of a baba, then you got a problem. People get mad at me when I bag on those who work low run jobs. Have I worked at a Carvel Ice Cream store? Yes I have. Was I a telephone solicitor and did I sell bottom of the barrel stuff? Yes I have. Did I work as a cashier at a grocery store as I was a kid going to college? Yes I did. Did I deliver newspapers? Yes I did. Did I sell advertising in lousy community newspapers over the telephone and make minimum conditions. Yes, but I did these things while I was working my way towards something better. I am not coming over to wax your car today. I don’t do detailing. I’m not coming over to your place to deliver pizza. I’m not going to bring groceries to your car. Ok.

Here’s a rewarding career. Here’s someone who knocked up his girl friend, and you know who I’m talking about. The guy who stands at the exit at Costco with the yellow high lighting pen. And he looks … of course you got 6 worth of stuff in the cart … and he gives this cursory glace to your cart … you can’t see everything that’s in the cart. Then he takes that yellow marker and runs it through the receipt, so you can’t try going through the exist again. That’s very rewarding work. *sarcasim* I just want to know the name of your bastard child and where the mother lives. When I see that guy, I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking about that.

Ya know, when I’m in a fast food joint and I’m deciding whether I want pastrami on my burger or cheese steak. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "what time does the baby sitter have to go home tonight?" I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking it.

When I go in for a .99 oil change, and there you are draining all the transmission fluid out of my car. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "does this place actually have a retirement plan?"It’s just the way it is.

Ya know, we all start at ground zero. Most of us start with very little. Some of us with nothing. We all have the same public school systems. And we have community colleges. We have state universities. We have opportunities to do things with our lives. We also have the opportunities to use condoms, to not have sex with trailer trash that’s gonna get knocked up. We have opportunites. We have decisions to make during our lives. Yes I think it’s perfectly fantastic when you’re a senior in high school and working as a cashier at Costco. I think that’s great. When you’re 16, 17, or 18 … that’s great. But when I read these stories in the newspaper about people working at Albertsons the supermarket, talking about going on strike, and you got interviews with 38 year old people who are cashiers … I’m laughing my butt off at you. I’m laughing my butt off. I’m sorry, I know it’s politically incorrect to say this, because you’re suppose to say that everyone is equal, everything is beautiful in it’s own way, you’re suppose to say these things, right? And every job is good and great to have hard working Americans … that’s what you’re suppose to say. But the reality is that some of you guys just decided to ride bear back when you were 16 and now you’re stuck going on strike at Albertsons or where ever you’re going on strike. You kidding me?

We all have at one time worked minimum wage jobs when we were teenagers. Minimum wage jobs are something you do when you’re in high school … maybe college, and in less common ways in graduate school. Then you move on and do something more productive. There is nothing I find more self satisfying than seeing the 32 year old pizza guy delivering pizza to my house. I just absolutely love it! In this country, everybody has at least the opportunity to go to a community college, and it isn’t that difficult to go to a state university, if you choose to do that. So anybody who is 32 and is asking me if I want paper or plastic … At one time we drank milk from our mommy’s baba, but eventually you put the baba down and drink from a cup. If somebody is 32 and still drinking out of a baba, then you got a problem. People get mad at me when I bag on those who work low run jobs. Have I worked at a Carvel Ice Cream store? Yes I have. Was I a telephone solicitor and did I sell bottom of the barrel stuff? Yes I have. Did I work as a cashier at a grocery store as I was a kid going to college? Yes I did. Did I deliver newspapers? Yes I did. Did I sell advertising in lousy community newspapers over the telephone and make minimum conditions. Yes, but I did these things while I was working my way towards something better. I am not coming over to wax your car today. I don’t do detailing. I’m not coming over to your place to deliver pizza. I’m not going to bring groceries to your car. Ok.

Here’s a rewarding career. Here’s someone who knocked up his girl friend, and you know who I’m talking about. The guy who stands at the exit at Costco with the yellow high lighting pen. And he looks … of course you got 6 worth of stuff in the cart … and he gives this cursory glace to your cart … you can’t see everything that’s in the cart. Then he takes that yellow marker and runs it through the receipt, so you can’t try going through the exist again. That’s very rewarding work. *sarcasim* I just want to know the name of your bastard child and where the mother lives. When I see that guy, I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking about that.

Ya know, when I’m in a fast food joint and I’m deciding whether I want pastrami on my burger or cheese steak. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "what time does the baby sitter have to go home tonight?" I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking it.

When I go in for a .99 oil change, and there you are draining all the transmission fluid out of my car. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking, "does this place actually have a retirement plan?"It’s just the way it is.

Ya know, we all start at ground zero. Most of us start with very little. Some of us with nothing. We all have the same public school systems. And we have community colleges. We have state universities. We have opportunities to do things with our lives. We also have the opportunities to use condoms, to not have sex with trailer trash that’s gonna get knocked up. We have opportunites. We have decisions to make during our lives. Yes I think it’s perfectly fantastic when you’re a senior in high school and working as a cashier at Costco. I think that’s great. When you’re 16, 17, or 18 … that’s great. But when I read these stories in the newspaper about people working at Albertsons the supermarket, talking about going on strike, and you got interviews with 38 year old people who are cashiers … I’m laughing my butt off at you. I’m laughing my butt off. I’m sorry, I know it’s politically incorrect to say this, because you’re suppose to say that everyone is equal, everything is beautiful in it’s own way, you’re suppose to say these things, right? And every job is good and great to have hard working Americans … that’s what you’re suppose to say. But the reality is that some of you guys just decided to ride bear back when you were 16 and now you’re stuck going on strike at Albertsons or where ever you’re going on strike. You kidding me?

I’m only 17 and I just got my first job at Kmart pushing carts for part time. I was excited to get this job, and I liked it during the training and everything. When I started my first real day, it was okay but I am already starting to hate it. I turn 18 in July, which I will be promoted to something else, most likely cashier. I was hired only two weeks ago and to be honest i’m hating this job already. I can do the job with no problems, greet customers, push carts, help other employees if needed, it’s all simple stuff that’s not hard work but I hate just going in for work. I don’t mind the customers at all, i’m used to them since I worked part time for one of my family members at his business. I really don’t care for most of the employees there, I like a few but most just seem to give others a hard time. Also the bosses/supervisors were nice during training, but lately they are no help to me at all. Any questions I have or any concerns they completely ignore me or any of the other employees.

To be honest I don’t want to go back in which would be monday, i’m seriously considering quitting my job, I only worked two weeks for them and it’s hard for me to go in to work. Another thing is I don’t seem to have the energy or time to do any school work because of my new job which is causing a big trouble. This is my first job and I don’t want to leave on bad terms so I am going to write a letter of resignation and turn it in on Monday and just quit right there and then. I know that giving a 2 week notice is more professional but I have no interest at all in working for them for any longer.

So I would like to have some of your guys opinions on this?

Keep in mind this isn’t really a money kind of thing, it was more of getting a little job experience so I know what to expect for the future. I graduate in late May/Early June and I plan on getting a full time job when I turn 18 in July, not as a cart pusher thats for sure lol.

My friend that works at Wal Mart has been a cashier there for 8 years. She said the home office had all the cart pushers fired & is making the cashiers & other workers go out to the parking lot & push in carts along with doing their regular work & lots of them are looking for other work. I had been wondering why the parking lot had shopping carts scattered all over it lately and therez NO WHERE to park. Then inside the store, there were no carts to use. If WalMart wants us to spend our money there, they should be a little more considerate of their customers. Itz bad enough that they’re so greedy they only give us a tiny bit of water to wash our hands in the restroom. We should STOP shopping there & find a more friendly store.
Heads would roll if dear Mr. Sam Walton were alive!!
Has anyone else had this problem? And is this going on at all Walmart stores? Thanks!

I went to a grocery store and purchased 6.87 worth of items.

The cashier thought the credit card machine was not working, therefore, swiping my card 3 times.

I look at my bank statement online the following day, and it shows 4 total debits of 6.87. This means my grocery cart cost me 0.61, plus the 6.87 that is rightfully theirs.

I take my statement to the manager, and the manager refuses to credit my account until a huge fuss is made.

This is the cheapest place to purchase groceries, so I went the following week and well…. the manager came up to me in public and told me "Excuse me, management would prefer if you did not shop here anymore. Please exit now. Thank you."

Being ripped off and being humiliated in public, and being thrown out of a store when I did nothing wrong –

do I have any legal defense?

Does the store owner have the right to do this?

Take shopping carts for the express purpose of filling them and stranding them at strategic locations.
Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store.
Set all the alarm clocks to go off at ten minute intervals throughout the day.
Start playing Calvinball; see how many people you can get to join in.
Contaminate the entire auto department by sampling all the spray air fresheners.
Challenge other customers to duels with tubes of gift wrap.
Leave cryptic messages on the typewriters.
Re-dress the mannequins as you see fit.
When there are people behind you, walk REALLY SLOW, especially thin narrow aisles.
Walk up to an employee and tell him in an official tone, "I think we’ve got a Code 3 in Housewares," and see what happens.
Tune all the radios to a polka station; then turn them all off and turn the volumes to "10".
Play with the automatic doors.
Walk up to complete strangers and say, "Hi! I haven’t seen you in so long!…" etc. See if they play along to avoid embarrassment.
While walking through the clothing department, ask yourself loud enough for all to hear, "Who BUYS this junk, anyway?"
Repeat Number 14 in the jewelry department.
Ride a display bicycle through the store; claim you’re taking it for a "test drive."
Follow people through the aisles, always staying about five feet away. Continue to do this until they leave the department.
Play soccer with a group of friend, using the entire store as your playing field.
As the cashier runs your purchases over the scanner, look mesmerized and say, "Wow. Magic!"
Put M&M’s on layaway.
Move "Caution: Wet Floor" signs to carpeted areas.
Set up a tent in the camping department; tell others you’ll only invite them in if they bring pillows from Bed and Bath.
Test the fishing rods and see what you can "catch" from the other aisles.
Ask other customers if they have any Grey Poupon.
Drape a blanket around your shoulders and run around saying, "…I’m Batman. Come, Robin–to the Batcave!"
TP as much of the store as possible.
Randomly throw things over into neighboring aisles.
Play with the calculators so that they all spell "hello" upside down.
When someone asks if you need help, begin to cry and ask, "Why won’t you people just leave me alone?"
When two or three people are walking ahead of you, run between them, yelling, "Red Rover!"
Make up nonsense products and ask newly hired employees if there are any in stock, i.e., "Do you have any Shnerples here?"
Take up an entire aisle in Toys by setting up a full scale battlefield with G.I. Joes vs. the X-Men.
Take bets on the battle described above.
Nonchalantly "test" the brushes and combs in Cosmetics.
Hold indoor shopping cart races.
Dart around suspiciously while humming the theme from "Mission: Impossible."
Attempt to fit into very large gym bags.
Attempt to fit others into very large gym bags.
Say things like, "Would you be so kind as to direct me to your Twinkies?"
Set up a "Valet Parking" sign in front of the store.
Two words: "Marco Polo."
Leave Cheerios in Lawn and Garden, pillows in the pet food aisle, etc.
"Re-alphabetize" the CD’s in Electronics.
When someone steps away from their cart to look at something, quickly make off with it without saying a word.
Relax in the patio furniture until you get kicked out.
When an announcement comes over the loudspeaker, assume the fetal position and scream, "No, no! It’s those voices again!"
Pay off layaways fifty cents at a time.
Drag a lounge chair on display over to the magazines and relax. If the store has a food court, buy a soft drink; explain that you don’t get out much, and ask if they can put a little umbrella in it.
(the-jokes.com)

42 Things to Do in Walmart

1. Take shopping carts for the express purpose of filling them
and stranding them at strategic locations.

2. Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store.

3. Set all the alarm clocks to go off at ten minute intervals
throughout the day.

4. Contaminate the entire auto department by sampling all the
spray air fresheners.

5. When there are people behind you, walk REALLY SLOW,
especially thin narrow aisles.

6. Walk up to an employee and tell him in an official tone, "I
think we’ve got a Code 3 in Housewares," and see what
happens.

7. Tune all the radios to a polka station; then turn them all off
and turn the volumes to "10".

8. Play with the automatic doors.

9. Walk up to complete strangers and say, "Hi! I haven’t seen
you in so long!…". See if they play along to avoid
embarrassment.

10. While walking through the clothing department, ask
yourself loud enough for all to hear, "Who BUYS this junk,
anyway?"

11. Ride a display bicycle through the store; claim you’re
taking it for a "test drive."

12. Follow people through the aisles, always staying about
five feet away. Continue to do this until they leave the
department.

13. Play soccer with a group of friends, using the entire store
as your playing field.

14. As the cashier runs your purchases over the scanner, look
mesmerized and say, "Wow. Magic!"

15. Put M&M’s on layaway.

16. Move "Caution: Wet Floor" signs to carpeted areas.

17. Test the fishing rods and see what you can "catch" from
the other aisles.

18. Drape a blanket around your shoulders and run around
saying,"…I’m Batman. Come, Robin, to the Batcave!"

19. Randomly throw things over into neighboring aisles.

20. When someone asks if you need help, begin to cry and ask,
"Why won’t you people just leave me alone?"

21. Make up nonsense products and ask newly hired
employees if there are any in stock, i.e., "Do you have any
Shnerples here?"

22. Take up an entire aisle in Toys by setting up a full scale
battlefield with G.I. Joes vs. the X-Men.

23. Take bets on the battle described above.

24. Hold indoor shopping cart races.

25. Dart around suspiciously while humming the theme from
"Mission: Impossible."

26. Try on bras over top of your clothes.

27. Attempt to fit into very large gym bags.

28. Leave Cheerios in Lawn and Garden, pillows in the pet
food aisle, etc.

29. "Re-alphabetize" the CD’s in Electronics.

30. Make a trail of orange juice on the ground, leading to the
restrooms

31. When someone steps away from their cart to look at
something, quickly make off with it without saying a word.

32. Relax in the patio furniture until you get kicked out.

33. When an announcement comes over the loudspeaker,
assume the fetal position and scream, "No, no! It’s those
voices again!"

34. Drag a lounge chair on display over to the magazines and
relax. If the store has a food court, buy a soft drink; explain
that you don’t get out much, and ask if they can put a little
umbrella in it

35. Go into the toy section and throw all the Dora the Explorer toys on the ground and when people try to pick them up yell at them "SWIPER NO SWIPING!".

36. Run into a pyramid of cans, heroically saying I’m gonna save us from that bomb!"

37. Get a stuffed animal and go to the front of the store and begin stroking it lovingly, saying “good girl, good Bessie.".

38. Hide in the clothing racks and when people browse through, say things like “the fat man walks alone," and scare them into believing that the clothes are talking to them

39. Look right into the security camera, and use it as a mirror while you pick your nose.

40. When two or three people are walking ahead of you, run between them, yelling, Red Rover!"

41. throw packets of skittles at random people yelling " you wanna taste the freaking rainbow!?! There TASTE IT."

42. Go at the poultry section and declare that the chicken are you minions and this is you empire