8:58

Only twice in my life have I overslept to the point of being totally late for where I was supposed to be. The first time was in college when I slept right through a psychology class. The second time was in Raleigh when I woke up an hour and a half after I was supposed to be at my nanny job. And I had about 3 missed calls from the child's anxious father wondering if I had been in an accident. While those were not shining examples of my punctuality, I was always able to throw on clothes and run out to my car and drive as fast as possible to my destination. When one awakens at 8:58 for a 9 a.m shift in NYC things change. I dressed quickly and scrambled downstairs, but as I have mentioned in a previous post, public transportation is completely out of my control. I walked as fast as I could to catch the 9:20 train, but due to the red lights at the street crossings, I walked up to the station as my train was pulling away. Most of the time, trains run every 3 to 5 minutes. Not on this fateful Wednesday. The next train was in 10 minutes. I just took a deep breath, turned on my music and waited. When the train ambled in at 9:30, it was packed with people and it's possible I could have gotten to work faster if I walked. I clocked in at 10:10. I was not in the best mood, and a co-worker greeted me with her signature 'hello' - singing off key. I usually robustly join in and together we harmonize in a way that can only be described as cats fighting. But today I was too frustrated to sing back. She sidled up to me as I explained what happened and she replied "well, it can only go up from here!" Which brought a smile to my face, as she was completely right. The rest of my day was fantastic, and I will regale you with more "crazy customer" tales as several of you have mentioned wanting more stories.

A customer excitedly approached the register with wrapping paper in hand as she exclaimed "this is recycled! I actually put back the paper I like better because this is recycled." Now I love caring for the earth as much as the next person, and think recycling is a good practice. But I thought this was a little over the top. As I bagged the wrapping paper in the long plastic bag made for it, she said - "now is that recycled? Because you know, I only use things that are recycled. Maybe that paper one?" So I bagged it in the paper bag and with a disappointed sigh she noted "it's only 60% post-consumer recycled" and walked away. Ok, lady. Go hug a tree now. Oh wait, we live in the concrete jungle. You can't.

Our lovely store is two stories and there are two ways to access the second floor- the elevator or the stairs which are directly behind it. Not really hard to find and well-lit for customers to find their way. There is no exterior door to the street that leads upstairs. I was on the second floor and a customer worriedly approached me and asked me where the stairs were. They were directly behind her, so I pointed her that way, not wanting to ask her the obvious - "how did you get up here in the first place? Did you really forget where the stairs were?"

A man purchased some magnets. $112 worth of magnets. I will say no more.

A customer wearing big sunglasses inside (which I've discovered since moving here is a big pet peeve of mine. You're not famous. Take off your shades. And if you are famous, we still recognize you. You look like yourself, wearing sunglasses) checked out at my register. But it wasn't the sunglasses that bothered me as much as her scarf. Which extended to her knees and was made completely of what looked like fox tails. It was disgusting. And just weird.

Yet another complaining customer chased me and yelled "you're the only employee on the second floor! I'm so mad. I need something to hold my silverware. Let me tell you, I called the hotline trying to get your phone number but you're not listed. You have made my day horrible and you really need to fix it." Yes, I am in charge. In fact, I was screening the phone call and decided not to answer because I thought it would make you more angry. You're welcome.

 After work I went out to dinner with my small group. We have decided that every other week we will indulge in an "ethnic food night." Last time was Ethiopian food, and this time we had Indian* food. Yes, I ate it with my hands, and yes my hands smelled like tika masala the next day. It's just that good you guys!

*random side note- I have officially been back from India one year. That's so crazy! It feels like yesterday in a lot of ways...