A Run In at the Conoco

I never expected to have a run in on a community service day. Last Tuesday on community service many of the Seniors and Juniors stayed on campus to either sort through clothes or wrap toys for H.O.P.E., and this club and Mr. Kelly set Zak, CLo and I up for an life changing experience.
In acting as a wrapping machine for about two or three hours straight that morning, the students including myself were becoming tired and stiff, but for some reason we all still pressed on with our work in order to get around 1500 toys wrapped. Mr. Kelly made a glorious announcement when he declared that we should take a break from wrapping for a little while so that we didn't suffer major back and knee damage in the future. Our group finished wrapping one last beauty set before leaving on break. We overheard that other groups and students were going to go get something to eat or drink and this seemed like a good idea. Zak volunteered to drive and after 5 or so minutes Zak, CLo and I decided to seek out energy drinks and food at the local Conoco by school.
After arriving at the Conoco a challenge faced Zak, CLo, and I; What do we want to drink? As I stood there contemplating my options I noticed that the foreign cashier was working today. I will discuss the importance of this in a little bit, but I just want you to know that I recorded a mental note at that time. Zak headed straight for a Vault and obtained a bag of peanuts and made his purchase. During this time CLo and I noticed one of those signs on the fridge glass that states what product is on sale. The sign declared that a person could buy three Amp's, Full Throttle's, or Double Shot's for $5.00, and that sign persuaded CLo and I that we couldn't pass up such a great deal. After collecting a total of 4 Amp's and 2 Full Throttle's we wandered up towards the counter. At this point things changed very quickly and for a short while my world felt so unbearable.
The foreign cashier sounds exactly like Apu on The Simpson's and honestly it makes purchasing that much more difficult. I figure the guy came from the Middle East because he speaks in very broken English and his accent... well I don't know how to explain it except he sounds like Apu. He pauses in his thinking and speech and he gets a blank look on his face. He talks to himself as he rings up an assortment of treats or drinks which greatly entertains me. This may seem like I am bashing this man, but it is quite the contrary because by struggling with his speech and through his job he succeeds in learning and adopting a new language. This man, though I will continue to somewhat criticize him, radiates with learning. Anyway, so consorting with a cashier who is battling a language barrier makes for a difficult purchase. What really got me though about this whole thing is that the position on his name tag is "Customer Service Representative". I find this ironic, for if you had a question there was a 50-50 chance of him understanding, but at least he would try.
This is how it went down.
The cashier fiddled around for a while and scanned the drinks probably 10 times and continued to mutter to himself while CLo, Zak and I exchanged looks of amusement, annoyance, and agitation all at once. The cashier then proceeded out from behind the counter to check to discover whether the sale really existed, and it did. When he returned to his original position behind the counter he resumed the scanning and muttering. I heard something like,"three...should be same...yes...not in the kitchen" or something to that extent. At this stage of our encounter a female cashier appears behind the counter and opens up the other line to me. There should be a warning posted for those attempting to approach her that says something to the extent of warning extremely fed up middle aged woman, proceed with extreme caution. My intuition told me something and I decided to inquire as to whether she was aware that I purchased these items because of the sale. This woman proceeded to tell me that someone in back had just put up the signs and that the sale wasn't in the system, and then she went quiet and looked at me. I was awestruck at this cashier's attitude and that it seemed as though her intentions included nothing along the lines of possibly trying to enter the sale into the computer in such a way as to make the discount available for this purchase. What blurted out of my mouth stuck to the notion that I was confused by the fact that she could not comprehend what posting a sign with a sale meant and that posting that sale tells me the buyer that I get a discount so basically she was too lazy to try and figure how to please the customer. I let out a long "sooooo...um" and she looked annoyed, but oh it was on. I would not vacate the premises before I received the deal promised to me by that sign. I pondered the true motives behind this cashier's stubbornness, for I deemed it ridiculous in my mind that this cashier could not take a minute or less to figure out how to create the discount that they advertise.
Relief was my first thought upon viewing the appearance of this woman, for we share the common bond of a language.
As the situation reached higher intensity levels there came a sudden voice saying, "I did it...I know it...here let me show you," and the voice emitted from none other than our foreign cashier friend. He resolved the pitched mental battle in progress and managed to figure out how to enter the discount. His poor English does not prevent him from communicating his final goal, in this case serving the customer. The woman cashier surprised me by how little she was motivated to work for the customer, when I thought she appeared as an excellent employee.
The connection I forged with this man along with Zak, and CLo as well created a stronger smarter group that gets things done. The first impression that I felt for this man was a sense of ill-will, but in retrospect I have found many more positive qualities that make this man the greatest Conoco worker ever.
A trip that should have taken around up to 10minutes tops to get 7 drinks and a bag of peanuts took us a half an hour all because of this cashier who could be speak English, is white, and middle aged. On that fateful day a week ago CLo, Zak and I became a little more masculine and gained the knowledge of how to react during a run in. I learned a little more about being a man.