By Carrie Babigian - PDF document

Day One By Carrie Babigian , Berkshire School Randy Holcomb glanced down each aisle of his linoleum kingdom, searching for any discrepancy that would hamper the success of Waldorf’s Start of the Summer Discount Day, unaware of the set of eyes watching him from the checkout lanes. After moving a bottle of ketchup in the dairy aisle back to its proper home next to the hot dog buns , he paused, satisfied with his work, and turned to his makeshift office i n checkout lane number one. “Holy shit, you scared me , kid !” “Sorry, I think I’m early,” his no - longer s ilent obser ver replied. “I’m Becca , I’m supposed to be meeting Chris for training?” “Chris i s the boss, but I’ll be training you if you’re going to be a cashier,” Randy explained as he smiled, moved closer, and somewhat over - enthusiastically grabbed and shook her ha nd. “You can wait in the break room until we open, I just like to get here ea rly to make sure everything’s ready .” Becca nodded, more than slightly bothered that she had wasted an hour standing in a supermarket when she could’ve been sleeping, and followe d Randy . They took the long way to the break room as Randy gave Becca an impromptu tour, simultaneously filling her in on the mission statement of Waldorf’s Deli and Wholesale Market and the importance of her new job . His enthusiasm was relentless, and Becca got tired of his ardor for restocking shelves before they reached Aisle 3. The break room, eponymous home to a broken microwave and a broken fridge, was windowless, furnished with a single folding chair, and, in Randy ’s completely non - sarcastic word s “a great place for the employees to relax and socialize.” With the tour over and Randy gone to unload a new shipment of organic peanut butter , Becca sat dejectedly in the folding chair and checked her phone. It was 7:45 am , which was about two hours earl ier than anytime she would have voluntarily woken up in the summer . Closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair, she tried to focus on the money she would make at her new job and felt slightly better. Not that she was doing it for the money – she was doing it because her parents told her she had to . Apparently she “nee ded to stay busy.” Becca couldn’t argue with that – she tended to get in trouble when she was bored – but she was also pretty adamant that eight hours a day of ringing up groceries was not the way to avoid boredom. “You ready to get started, kid?” Rand y burst in smiling and interrupted her thoughts. It looked like a case of organic peanut but ter had exploded onto his apron but he didn’t seem to mind . He was cheery as ever as he handed Becca a nametag she had no intention of wearing and led her back to t he checkout lanes to teach her the proper way to bag produce. “Couldn’t we just let the customers bag their own groceries?” Becca ventured, speaking out of frustration more than actual curiosity. “Nope, we commit ourselves to a certain level of quality here, and bagging groceries is part of upholding that commitment.” Randy delivered his answer like it was something he had studied and memorized from the employee handbook , and turned his back from Becca to face the next customer in his lane. With no one to talk to, Becca tried to kill time by doing some calculations in her head; if s he was working 8 hours a day 5 days a week for 8 weeks then she was 1/960 th done with her job? That didn’t sound good . Her math was probably wrong anyway – she was more of a language person than a num bers one, and had tried to capitalize on that by arguing with her parents that a summer job wouldn’t give her enough time to perfect her college essay . Unfortunately t his argument had n’t worked, nor had the other fifteen or so exc uses she had presented. She turned her focus to Randy , who was currently greeting what looked like a member of a biker gang with a perfectly genuine, “Hello! How are you on this beautiful day, sir?” She checked the clock again. Somehow it was still 8 o’c lock. After trying and failing to use every excuse she could think of to find a way out of having a summer job, she was beginning to accept that her only wa y out was almost two months away. Maybe the best she could do would be to coast through and exert as little effort as possible. Eventually Randy went on lunch , and was replaced by a younger woman named Alice, who sent Becca on her 15 - minute break. She was trying to avoid another visit to the break room, but it had begun raining outside, so she had no other option than to return to the back of the store . Randy was already in there, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and leaning over a thick paper back book that Becca assumed was t he employee handbook . He glanced up, nodded hello , and gestured to the jarringly out - of - place antique wooden chair in the corner. “ We have two chairs now! Someone must’ve brought it in from home or something.” He explained. Becca sat down, putting hersel f at eye level with Randy and in a position where she could make out the words on the front cover of his book; Acing the Bar Exam: A Complete and Comprehensive Guide. Randy was underlining passages with a red pen, memorizing elements of law in between shif ts behind a checkout counter. Almost surprised that she wasn’t surprised, Becca leaned back in the chair, looking at Randy and then back at his book. Realizing something she might’ve known all along, she took the nametag from her pocket and put it on, then opened her bag and removed a partially drafted college essay. It looked like she had found her way out.