Exterminate! Exterminate!

....This is basically what I was yelling at the cash register at the end of my shift tonight.

See, work was supposed to go very smoothly and very well. I made lots of sales ("lots" meaning "more than five", as the mall store is never very busy), and put out all the items that Tibbs had brought over from Blowing Rock. The floors got mopped. The back area got swept/dusted, the lights were turned off, and everything was brought inside by 7:50. I got excited, thinking that I might leave before 8:15 if I was efficient at closing.

In a good mood, I went over to the register to start closing out. By turning a key and pushing the cash button, it is supposed to print out a receipt for all the day's sales. But, being made of snips, snails, and various mechanical parts of Lucifer -- the thing froze up instead, started beeping like a smoke alarm, and wouldn't print a thing. I changed the register paper, pressed random buttons -- nothing worked. So, I spent fifteen or twenty minutes on the phone with my manager, figuring out how to manually close out the register and tally the day's earnings without actually having the important numbers (such as tax or z-total) in front of me. I counted up the money -- slowly, trying not to make any stupid mistakes -- and wrote down everything that had gone wrong on the end-of-day report. Then, I had to call the store's owners and tell them the day's totals, as well as what had just gone wrong. Just to let them know that my numbers might be erroneous.

This prompted one of my bosses to get on the phone and coach me, step by step, while I tried to fix the cash register. Which took another 20 minutes. We FINALLY got it fixed, but that required having to beat on the keypad like an escaped ax murderer to unstick the dysfunctional mechanisms. After that, I had to go back and fill out the paperwork that I'd previously ignored because I didn't have the right figures in front of me.

So, instead of getting out early, I was able to leave the store at a cool 9:15. Nearly two hours after I had closed the doors.

UGH. Remind me why I took this job for a second year?

Exterminate! Exterminate!

....This is basically what I was yelling at the cash register at the end of my shift tonight.

See, work was supposed to go very smoothly and very well. I made lots of sales ("lots" meaning "more than five", as the mall store is never very busy), and put out all the items that Tibbs had brought over from Blowing Rock. The floors got mopped. The back area got swept/dusted, the lights were turned off, and everything was brought inside by 7:50. I got excited, thinking that I might leave before 8:15 if I was efficient at closing.

In a good mood, I went over to the register to start closing out. By turning a key and pushing the cash button, it is supposed to print out a receipt for all the day's sales. But, being made of snips, snails, and various mechanical parts of Lucifer -- the thing froze up instead, started beeping like a smoke alarm, and wouldn't print a thing. I changed the register paper, pressed random buttons -- nothing worked. So, I spent fifteen or twenty minutes on the phone with my manager, figuring out how to manually close out the register and tally the day's earnings without actually having the important numbers (such as tax or z-total) in front of me. I counted up the money -- slowly, trying not to make any stupid mistakes -- and wrote down everything that had gone wrong on the end-of-day report. Then, I had to call the store's owners and tell them the day's totals, as well as what had just gone wrong. Just to let them know that my numbers might be erroneous.

This prompted one of my bosses to get on the phone and coach me, step by step, while I tried to fix the cash register. Which took another 20 minutes. We FINALLY got it fixed, but that required having to beat on the keypad like an escaped ax murderer to unstick the dysfunctional mechanisms. After that, I had to go back and fill out the paperwork that I'd previously ignored because I didn't have the right figures in front of me.

So, instead of getting out early, I was able to leave the store at a cool 9:15. Nearly two hours after I had closed the doors.

UGH. Remind me why I took this job for a second year?