Kip Mabuse
08-12-2020, 02:13 AM
This happened quite a few years ago, when I lived in the deep south. I worked for a multinational beverage company--call it "Duff"--as a merchandiser. What a merchandiser generally does is to go from store to store, working backstock from the storeroom or storage cooler, and generally making sure that all displays look nice and cold cases don't run out of beer. During the week, I mostly followed trucks around and helped them deliver the product to the stores and fill the displays, but on the weekends I just went to all the stores on my route and filled up the cold displays and "beer caves." Easy job, salaried position, but I seldom worked more than 35 hours a week, and was basically paid for 40.
Most of the stores were easy to deal with, but the biggest headache was (this will come as a shock) Walmart. There were two Walmarts in town, and I had to hit both of them twice on Saturday and Sunday, first in the morning and then last in the afternoon before I quit for the day. Now, filling the beer up wasn't the biggest headache at Walmart--in fact, it was incredibly easy. They sold a lot of beer, but most of it was suitcases or 18 packs, which were very easy to fill up if they ran down. It would have been really easy to get in and out of the place in 30 minutes in the morning, 15 in the afternoon, except for the democrat customers. I'm not telling anyone anything new, but the beer aisle at both of the stores was barely big enough for two carts to pass each other, and the democrats would park their shopping carts square in the middle of the aisle, and freak if you either asked them politely to move the cart, or moved it yourself. So, most of the time spent merchandising was waiting for democrats to move out of the way so I could stock.
Needless to say, I was generally not in a good mood when I was in the Walmart stores. Now--you've probably seen Duff Beer merchandisers in your local stores stocking the beer cases, and they always wear bright red or blue uniforms and jackets, denoting the colors of Duff and Duff light. This was winter, and I was wearing my bright blue "Duff Light" jacket, along with a red "Duff" shirt. I always wore a red shirt on the weekends, since Walmart employees wore blue, and I didn't want to be mistaken for a Walmart employee. And, although my jacket was blue, it had "Duff Light" emblazoned on each side on the front, on both sides of both sleeves, and on the back, in case one wasn't paying attention.
Now, merchandisers are not required to help customers in the stores where they are merchandising, unless it is helping a customer with beer. Normally, if someone asked me for help, I'd simply say, "sorry, I don't work here, I work for Duff." If they asked politely for help, though, I'd either go find a Walmart employee, or--if, and only if, it was an elderly customer--I'd help them find what they were looking for. Still, I always wondered how someone could have thought that I worked for Walmart--Walmart employees don't have "Duff Beer Fridays" where they wear Duff uniforms to work.
So--a Sunday afternoon, and I am in a very foul mood. I go into my last stop--Walmart--to do my last pull. As soon as I see the cold case, I get pissed--every 18 pack of Duff Light bottles is gone out of the display case. It holds around 40 cases, and on an average (or busy) Sunday we might sell 15. I was in the store at 1:00 pm, they have only been selling beer for an hour, and the display is empty. I imagine this is the case all across the deep south, but there are "country" bars all over the place--democrat hangouts with no liquor/beer licenses that buy all their beer from Walmart, since they aren't allowed to buy it from the distributor. So I am not happy at spending an extra 20 minutes filling this because of a bunch of criminal democrats, but hey--what I'm paid for.
I finish pulling the store, and start to walk out--as quickly as I could, I just wanted to get out of there. I hear, sort of, from very far away--"Hey! Hey!" It's coming from very far away, and very faint, so I pay no attention to it. About three seconds later, I hear, "Hey! Hey! Hey, you!" Still, can't be someone yelling at me. "Hey--Hey--HeyHeyHeyHeyHeyHeyHey!" Now, I figured that someone might be yelling at me, but I just kept moving. I was walking down the middle of the aisle that leads towards the front of the store, the one where they put pallets of cheap stuff they're trying to get rid of, and an older white lady steps in front of me, looking really frightened, and says, very apologetically, "I think the colored man back there wants to talk to you." Normally, I would have kept going, but she looked scared, so I turned around. "Hey! Hey! Hey! I been yelling at you for ten minute! Why don't you answer?" I just stared at him, pretty much dumbfounded. "Hey! Hey! Hey! What aisle the dog food on?" "I have no idea." I turned and started walking out. "Hey! Hey! Hey! You work here!" Not a question, a statement. I ought to pause now, and point out that although I am about 6' 2", this was a very tall and muscular democrat, at least 6'9". I was a bit frightened, to be honest. I said, "As a matter of fact, I don't work here." What else would I say? I didn't work there. Turned and started walking away, figuring that was the end of it. "What! You don't work here!" Again, a statement, not a question. "No, as a matter of fact, I do not. Good day." "Mother&^%$#@, you look like you work here!" "As a matter of fact, so do you, friend." "Mother#$%^&*, Duff Beer Lookin' Mother&^*%^$, say I look like a Walmart mother@^$*^&? I gonna cap yo ass in the parking lot!"
I just got the hell out of there and drove home. I got lucky, and he didn't follow me. Even if he hadn't had a stick to cap me wit, he could have really messed me up. In retrospect, I should have called 911, as even the black cops in that town hated the ones who acted like democrats.
It's hard to get American beer here in the PRC, but Tsingtao isn't too bad, and I can get European beer if I'm not too lazy to take a taxi ride just to get beer. Oftentimes, I sit down on the weekend, crack a Tsingtao, take a sip, and thank heavens that there aren't any democrats where I live in the PRC.
Most of the stores were easy to deal with, but the biggest headache was (this will come as a shock) Walmart. There were two Walmarts in town, and I had to hit both of them twice on Saturday and Sunday, first in the morning and then last in the afternoon before I quit for the day. Now, filling the beer up wasn't the biggest headache at Walmart--in fact, it was incredibly easy. They sold a lot of beer, but most of it was suitcases or 18 packs, which were very easy to fill up if they ran down. It would have been really easy to get in and out of the place in 30 minutes in the morning, 15 in the afternoon, except for the democrat customers. I'm not telling anyone anything new, but the beer aisle at both of the stores was barely big enough for two carts to pass each other, and the democrats would park their shopping carts square in the middle of the aisle, and freak if you either asked them politely to move the cart, or moved it yourself. So, most of the time spent merchandising was waiting for democrats to move out of the way so I could stock.
Needless to say, I was generally not in a good mood when I was in the Walmart stores. Now--you've probably seen Duff Beer merchandisers in your local stores stocking the beer cases, and they always wear bright red or blue uniforms and jackets, denoting the colors of Duff and Duff light. This was winter, and I was wearing my bright blue "Duff Light" jacket, along with a red "Duff" shirt. I always wore a red shirt on the weekends, since Walmart employees wore blue, and I didn't want to be mistaken for a Walmart employee. And, although my jacket was blue, it had "Duff Light" emblazoned on each side on the front, on both sides of both sleeves, and on the back, in case one wasn't paying attention.
Now, merchandisers are not required to help customers in the stores where they are merchandising, unless it is helping a customer with beer. Normally, if someone asked me for help, I'd simply say, "sorry, I don't work here, I work for Duff." If they asked politely for help, though, I'd either go find a Walmart employee, or--if, and only if, it was an elderly customer--I'd help them find what they were looking for. Still, I always wondered how someone could have thought that I worked for Walmart--Walmart employees don't have "Duff Beer Fridays" where they wear Duff uniforms to work.
So--a Sunday afternoon, and I am in a very foul mood. I go into my last stop--Walmart--to do my last pull. As soon as I see the cold case, I get pissed--every 18 pack of Duff Light bottles is gone out of the display case. It holds around 40 cases, and on an average (or busy) Sunday we might sell 15. I was in the store at 1:00 pm, they have only been selling beer for an hour, and the display is empty. I imagine this is the case all across the deep south, but there are "country" bars all over the place--democrat hangouts with no liquor/beer licenses that buy all their beer from Walmart, since they aren't allowed to buy it from the distributor. So I am not happy at spending an extra 20 minutes filling this because of a bunch of criminal democrats, but hey--what I'm paid for.
I finish pulling the store, and start to walk out--as quickly as I could, I just wanted to get out of there. I hear, sort of, from very far away--"Hey! Hey!" It's coming from very far away, and very faint, so I pay no attention to it. About three seconds later, I hear, "Hey! Hey! Hey, you!" Still, can't be someone yelling at me. "Hey--Hey--HeyHeyHeyHeyHeyHeyHey!" Now, I figured that someone might be yelling at me, but I just kept moving. I was walking down the middle of the aisle that leads towards the front of the store, the one where they put pallets of cheap stuff they're trying to get rid of, and an older white lady steps in front of me, looking really frightened, and says, very apologetically, "I think the colored man back there wants to talk to you." Normally, I would have kept going, but she looked scared, so I turned around. "Hey! Hey! Hey! I been yelling at you for ten minute! Why don't you answer?" I just stared at him, pretty much dumbfounded. "Hey! Hey! Hey! What aisle the dog food on?" "I have no idea." I turned and started walking out. "Hey! Hey! Hey! You work here!" Not a question, a statement. I ought to pause now, and point out that although I am about 6' 2", this was a very tall and muscular democrat, at least 6'9". I was a bit frightened, to be honest. I said, "As a matter of fact, I don't work here." What else would I say? I didn't work there. Turned and started walking away, figuring that was the end of it. "What! You don't work here!" Again, a statement, not a question. "No, as a matter of fact, I do not. Good day." "Mother&^%$#@, you look like you work here!" "As a matter of fact, so do you, friend." "Mother#$%^&*, Duff Beer Lookin' Mother&^*%^$, say I look like a Walmart mother@^$*^&? I gonna cap yo ass in the parking lot!"
I just got the hell out of there and drove home. I got lucky, and he didn't follow me. Even if he hadn't had a stick to cap me wit, he could have really messed me up. In retrospect, I should have called 911, as even the black cops in that town hated the ones who acted like democrats.
It's hard to get American beer here in the PRC, but Tsingtao isn't too bad, and I can get European beer if I'm not too lazy to take a taxi ride just to get beer. Oftentimes, I sit down on the weekend, crack a Tsingtao, take a sip, and thank heavens that there aren't any democrats where I live in the PRC.