My First, Unfortunate, Job

For the summer, my parents suggested that I get a summer job.  I am 16 years old, which, as my dad will happily tell you, is much older than when he had his first real, big boy job.  I didn’t want a job, nor did I ask for a job.  I didn’t even ask my parents what they thought I should do for the summer.  And, of course, when one parent says something not too outrageous, the other one, if they are a good parent, feels obliged to agree with them, as a part of that whole presenting a united front silliness that parents are always going on about.

So, I got a job at our local grocery stores or supermarket, whichever floats your boat.  The people were nice, and the job seemed easy enough.  I was a stocker.  I stocked the empty parts of the aisles with new products and extra products.  Occasionally, a customer will see me and either frown at me or make some not so subtle noise to indicate that I am unintentionally blocking their path to something that they want off of one of the shelves.

I would, of course, move out of their way, if they asked, or even retrieve what they wanted from the shelf, seeing as how I am already closer than they are, but unfortunately for both of us, I am not, nor have ever been or ever will be or even want to be, a mind reader.

It’s usually in the cereal aisle.

On no remarkable day whatsoever, I was stalking the shelves in the candy aisle.  While some people may daydream in this job about whatever job they wish they had instead of this or what they could be doing on this bright summer day instead of this, I do not that because I am busy stacking and organizing shelves.  I have always taken an unusual pride in being neat and tidy and having everything in perfectly organized stacks, which is why, and don’t tell my parents this or I will deny it until the cows come home, I actually like doing this.  And, the answer is a firm “no” in that I would not rather be out in the sun because it only takes a minute of me being out there for me to get sunburned.

Stalking the candy aisle is fun because of all the new candy that I see and think that I’ll come back later and buy for myself.  There were some kids, maybe 8 or 9 years old, climbing on the shelves.  Before I realized what exactly what they were doing and get them to stop, their weight tipped the shelves and, like a domino effect, every other shelf in the store tipped over because the shelves were just that close together, very similar to the scene in the library in The Mummy(1999).

Everybody was mostly fine, except for a few broken bones, but it’s not like anyone died.  The store did shut down for a few days and vowed to have the aisles farther apart from one another.  A lot of people are threatening lawsuits. I, personally, almost enjoyed being stuck in the candy aisle because I felt as though I could eat whatever I wanted within reach, even if my collarbone was broken.


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