I'm A Grocery Stocker
Written on Nov 06
FEB 17.03 - UPDATE: If you found this web site by doing a search for "stocker", or "grocery stocker", or anything in that related category than you should definately read the second part of this rant:
Grocery Stocking Pt. 2 < /update >
For those of you that don't know, I'm a night-shift grocery stocker
at a store called Vons. I put mass amounts of grocery product on the
shelf and make it look pretty. This may sound boring to most of you but
there's so much excitement to my job - the late night all you can eat
binges, the paper towel football, breaking cases upon cases of expensive
items and robbery attempts. Yes, I said
robbery attempts.
Last night, Vons was shoplifted pretty badly, but I like to
call it robbery. When it comes to Vons security, there really isn't
any aside from a bunch of cameras. We don't have any armed guards or
buffed out workers ready to kill. There's just me and my mexican
co-worker, Juan. We are both skinny and we are both somewhat crazy. I
can't fight at all, but I can run my mouth rather well and sound
intimidating. Juan can't run his mouth, but he makes up for it in
tough-guy attitude and fighting skills. (He's mexican, what did you
expect?) Together we are Vons security.
Back to my story -- some really big dude walked into the
store. He was about 6'7", 300lbs...and white. He was really THAT big. He was
wearing a blue bandana and had a leather jacket on. He walked in like he
owned the store and this immediately got my attention. I kept a close
eye on him and he didn't really do anything suspicious. He went to
our liquor aisle and got two expensive bottles of whisky and took
them to the checkstand. I followed him to the checkstand and acted
like I was fixing some bags up front. The checker began ringing up
his purchases and the bagger non-chalantly bagged his liquor.
His total came to roughly $160 for two bottles of liquor and
two cartons of cigarettes. By this time, Juan
and I are both at the front of the store messing around. Then the big
motherfucker of a guy just picked up his bags and started walking
towards the door. He didn't pay for his stuff! I thought to myself "I
knew this guy was a piece of trash!". The checker began
yelling "sir... sir... you need to pay for that". I knew exactly what
he was doing and I started following him parallel to the door. Juan
walked up behind him and said something and tried to grab his bag.
The guy turned around and said, "I have a fucking gun". I looked
right at him from about 8-9ft away and thought to myself, "No you don't, you fucking
liar" and right as I walked towards him, the guy decked Juan. He hit
Juan so hard his tooth and part of his lip flew out of his mouth and
on the floor. I pulled out of my box cutter and glared at him. He
didn't even give two shits about me. He picked up his bags of liquor
and began WALKING out of the store. He walked across the street and
only then did he start to run around the corner. Juan was kind of shook
up because he was sucker-punched. He went to the hospital for a few
hours and came back to work, minus a tooth. He's fine and in good
spirits, but he really took a good shot. Just imagine a 300lb guy
punching you in the lip un-suspectingly with full force. He would
have knocked my little head off, luckily Juan is the tough guy. The
cops came and took witness statements. It was only the second time I
actually cooperated with police officers. The tooth is still MIA
somewhere in the front area of Vons, Escondido.
I just hate when shit like that happens to anybody. I admit it, I'm a
fucking thief. I steal shit left and right from stores just for kicks
and giggles and my personal amusement, but I would NEVER, EVER hurt
someone doing it. If someone got in my way, I would leave without an
altercation. There is a unseen level of karma that goes with
stealing -- steal whatever but don't hurt anybody. (My moral code is
so warped). Especially someone half your size who's just doing his
job. That's fucked up. The chances of me running into that guy again
are pretty good. He walked out of the store so that means he lives
near by. I'll find him and let karma catch up to him. Who knows...
maybe karma will be 6 of my psychotic drug-induced friends with bats?
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