Adventures at QuikTrip

I've been told many times that I need to start writing about the things that happen at QuikTrip. Everyday I go into work, the chance that something ridiculous is going to happen, or something off the wall said to me, is right around 110% (not kidding). Most of the time, it's a creepy guy that is the perpetrator. But every now and then.....I'm still caught off guard sometimes. Here are a few stories.

Today as I was putting hot dog buns in their containers, and woman comes up to me and says, "Ma'am, I've lost my husband." I have just opened another pack of buns and my hand stops. As her words process through my brain, I feel the bubbles start. The bubbles are the beginning process of me giggling. I look up at her. An older woman of in her mid-fifties is looking around the QuikTrip store, gripping 2 hot dogs in her hand. Controlling the bubbles, in my most professional concerned voice I ask her, "Ma'am...would you like me to help you find him?"

Once, I stood at the check stand with my co-worker and friend Lo'Verr. We were chatting back and forth in between helping customers when this man comes up to the counter. An older black man in his sixties stands there and he kinda reminds me of a pimp. Seriously. Fancy suit that is an odd color of cream and gold. Lo'Verr starts to help him and I continue to stand there and wait so we can continue our conversation. As the gentelman is about to leave he asks Lo'Verr,"How'd your manage it?"

Perplexed, Lo'Verr asks, "Manage what?"

The man lowers his gold glasses and looks at him. "How'd you manage to get to work next to a fine vanilla milkshake like this?" he responds as he looks me up and down.

I laugh aloud and walk away from the check stand, as Lo'Verr stutters a response.

Ever shift you work at Quiktrip, you have to empty the inside and outside trashcans. This is NOT a clean job. By the end of the process, my hands are sticky and black (yes EWW!), I'm sweating, winded, and wanting to take a serious shower.

One hot muggy summer day as I'm in the middle of taking out the trash and trying to help an older lady out with a question she has, a black man in his late 20s comes up to me and says he needs help with getting gas at the pump he's at. I respond and tell him I'll be there in a moment. I finish with the older lady, I turn with trash barrel in tow, and head towards the guy. As I get there he is already pumping his gas. Confused I look at him, look at the pump, then back at him and say, "What's wrong with the pump?"

He chuckles and responds, "Oh nothing!" (chuckle chuckle chuckle) "So what's your name?" he asks.

Setting my face into "unreadable mode", I point to my name badge and say, "Kasha".

"Oh that's cool"

"Yep." I say. I look around and then as I'm about to say goodbye he asks,

"Did you use to go to ...(some school. I don't remember where) "

"Nope."

"Really?" he asks.

"Really, really."

"Oh. It's just you look like this girl I used to go to school with,"

"Hmmm... I guess she was a blonde?"

" Yeah. You fine like her. You thick and juicy"

"......"

Gentlemen, this is not a complement.

A man comes up to the check stand and asks me, "How much are your one dollar scratchers?" A bubble of laughter escapes, and I ask him, "You want to know how much our one dollar scratchers are?"

"Yeah,"

"Well...that would be one dollar."

I love my job.