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Say What?
I work in the Meijer deli and I have to talk to each of my customers and find out what they want, how much and how they want it cut. On any given day I have to talk to approximately 100 customers so there are many chances for me to hone my communication skills and get them comparable to the sharpness of a Katana. Although I get so much communication practice there are still miscommunications that occur now and then because neither the customer nor I are perfect. Maybe I mumble, maybe they need to upgrade their hearing aids instead of their digital cable package. A common example of a miscommunication that happens a lot is when I say, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” The customer then responds with “Yea, I’m all set.” They walk away and I stand there for a second confused out of my mind, then move on to the next number. Friday the 22nd (my favorite number) was a good day however that saw none of these communication breakdowns. I looked at the clock, “8:58, only two more minutes!” I said to myself. Right after I calm down from my mini celebration I saw an attractive young lady making her way toward the ice cream counter. As I was singing “Sexy can I” by Ray J in my head I could have sworn that she was walking (bouncing) perfectly to the beat. I don’t think I was the only one that appreciated God’s fine work at that moment because one of my male co-workers gave me the kick signal under the counter which means there is a good looking lady loose on the sales floor. As we meet face to face for the first time I thought to myself, “What a day! I didn’t mess up once and my last customer of the day is the best looking girl to ever set foot in a Meijer!” She said, “Hey there, I’d like cookies and cream please.” The standard thing to say is, “Would you like that in a bowl or cone?”
“Would you like to bone?”
Yea… that’s what I said. I thought to myself, “How could I mess that up when I was so focused on every word she said?” She laughed as I quickly corrected myself. She didn’t answer the first question which is good because I probably would have statred sweating at an even more profuse pace than I was currently at. Turns out she wanted it in a bowl. After I got the ice cream I rung her up at the register and by the time the whole thing was over I was surprised I didn’t melt the ice cream for how bad I was overheating. I felt like I was a rotisserie chicken! Needless to say as soon as we had parted ways I went straight to the freezer to cool down. Frozen nose hairs is the price you pay I guess.
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