Chapter Two
Back again from the salt mines, I am. Bloody Superstore…
So… I forgot to mention that I'm trying to put as much Superstore authenticity into this as possible. Except for Meg and her mother working at the store together. It's not allowed in real life, but I don't care anymore. So HA!
-
Christine ran onto the superstore like a bat out of hell, desperate to escape the biting cold that lay outside. She had just finished the hiring kit, complete with the criminal record check, and she was eager to get her hours. This was her first job, after all (her mother had finally given in and let her apply in the summer months) and she was ready to work... but instead of Meg, there was an older man with thinning grey hair standing at customer service. He had a mousy look to him, his face pinched and complete with a curled mustache.
His looks were a bit strange, but anyone over thirty that worked at Superstore where stuck in the eighties and Christine was used to it by now. She walked up and, with a wide smile that was becoming unnervingly natural to her, said, "Hi. I'm here to see Carlotta."
The man sighed loudly and put the tips of his fingers to his mustache, tapping the hairs back into place. Christine watched awkwardly until he finished his routine and asked, "What for?"
Christine glanced at his nametag. Andre, Customer Service. Ah, so this was the shit Carlotta had mentioned. "I need to drop off my hiring kit."
"Fine." Andre grabbed the phone, dialed a number and spoke in hushed tones, casting sidelong glances her way while she wondered why such an awkward little rat was able to intimidate her. After a moment, he gestured for Christine to scamper up the stairs like a good little employee. She did so, making a mental note to stay away from him.
Christine made her way down the manager's hall again, glancing into the first office to see if the masked person was there. To her ultimate relief (she had, after all, made a fool of herself in front of him) she saw an older woman in the office instead, her long grey-brown hair braided around her head. It was a strange hairstyle, far from modern, but it worked on her. The woman chose that moment to turn around and she caught Christine looking in. Rather than glaring like most of the higher-ups did, she gave Christine a comfortable smile and went back to work. Christine felt the corners of her lips turnign up in respunse and allowed herself a pleasent, natural smile as she followed the now familiar route to Catlotta's office, hoping the maniacle redhead would be a little more friendly today.
"… and you've got Monday as well, from two to seven." Carlotta's voice met Christine's ears as she came to the end of the hall. As she entered the office, she found Carlotta, dressed in an over-the top purple… thing, speaking with a tall man with fake looking hair and a mustache that she'd expect to find on some sort of molester.
"Why Monday?" the man asked.
"You're training…. this girl." Carlotta replied, pointing at Christine. "Cindy."
"Christine." Christine reminded her.
"Whatever." Carlotta turned her full attention to Christine. "You've filled out the papers?"
"Yes." Christine handed her the hiring kit. "So… may I see my hours?"
Carlotta handed her a paper, handwritten, with her list of hours.
Monday: 2 - 7pm
Tuesday: 2:30 - 7:30pm
Thursday: 2:30 – 7:30pm
Friday: 2 - 7pm
"You need to be here and ready to work five minutes before your shift." Carlotta muttered. "I don't tolerate lateness."
"Oh, alright." God, Christine thought, would it kill the woman to smile?
"Firmin here will be training you in cash office." Carlotta went on.
Lovely. I get so spend twenty hours next week up close and personal with a wig and a molester mustache. Christine wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into as she smiled and nodded pleasantly. "Okay."
"Now stand back there." Carlotta whipped out a camera and gestured for Christine to back against a plain white wall. "We need your picture for your nametag." Christine backed up against the wall and Carlotta snapped the picture before she had a chance to smile. Christine's eyes stung from the flash and Carlotte quickly asked her next question. "You have the dress pants and shoes?"
Christine nodded.
"You'll need this, too." Carlotta pulled at a drawer and yanked out a bright turquoise t-shirt, the same shirt that Andre, Firmin, Meg and every other employee (except for the managers and supervisors) had. And, by the looks of it, this one was about two sizes to big. "And a lock for your locker."
"Alright." Christine tried not to loot too disgusted as she reached for the garment. They couldn't have found an uglier shirt if they tried. "Thanks."
"You can go now." Carlotta muttered. With that, she went back to her conversation with Firmin.
Clearing her throat, Christine made her way out of the office and went back down the hall and to the stairs. Maybe applying here wasn't such a good idea… as she left the stairwell, she thought she saw a dark shape. After looking back, though, she decided it was a figment of her imagination and she dismissed it.
-
Monday
When Christine first entered the superstore, dressed in her tacky blue shirt, black dress pants and polished shoes, she was sure that all hell had broken loose. Customers where gathered around Customer Service, each one yelling out the brand of cigarettes or nature of their return to Meg and the others working there. Meg was madly going through the shelves, ripping off boxes of cigarettes as fast as she could.
Christine ran upstairs for her nametag and to put her purse away. Hopefully, she'd get down in time to help Meg in whatever way she could…
Unfortunately, the brand-spanking new lock had other plans. Christine struggled for about five minutes to get the damn thing open, only to realize that she had forgotten her pen and notebook in her purse and left her MP3 player around her neck. After struggling for another minute, she got everything she needed and went into Carlotta's office.
No Carlotta.
Christine went to check the cafeteria a few doors down from Carlotta's office. Maybe Carlotta would be there.
No Carlotta. And, no Firmin.
Panicking now, Christine dashed back downstairs to customer service and grabbed the door, determined to get into the booth and get some help from Meg or Andre or whoever the hell else was working there.
And the door wouldn't open.
I'm cursed. Christine thought, desperately trying not to loose it as she pulled at the door, struggling to get into the booth.
"The door doesn't open unless you have the key." A snotty male voice came from behind. "Or someone can let you in from the inside."
Christine turned to stare the molester-mustache in the eyes… well, figuratively, at least, because, of course, mustaches don't have eyes. "Oh, hi! I was wondering where everyone was. Is Carlotta…?"
"Not here." Firmin muttered.
"Ah… so, uh…" Christine cleared her throat. The false smile she had been doing so well slipped. "Am I going to… get a nametag?"
He held it up, letting it dangle from his hand. Christine reached for it and he muttered, "You'd better have a notebook. We're going over a lot today."
"I've got a notebook and a pen." Christine replied.
"Good." Firmin opened the door with his key and went inside the Customer Service booth, leaving Christine to try and grab the door before it closed on her. "Cash office is one of the biggest job's here. I don't know why Carlotta hired you, but I'm assuming that you've had a background handling money."
"Well, no, but…" Christine got inside of the booth and closed the door behind her. "I've been volunteering at the hospital…"
"You've had no experience at all?" Firmin sighed loudly. "This is doing nothing for my nerves…"
Christine felt her cheeks redden. "I'm a fast learner, though."
"I hope so." Firmin used his key to unlock a new door marked Authorized Personnel. "Come in, come in, I haven't got all day…"
-
Five hours later, Christine left the Superstore with a new hatred for money. Firmin had had her collect money from all the trays in the store three times, count it all, put it in two safes (one for the bank and one for the store), and then use the computer in the other room (which was about thirty years old and devoid of a mouse) to make sure that everything balanced.
It was, to say the least, pure hell. Especially when she was new and kept making mistakes.
Christine got to her locker and twirled the lock, praying that the combination would work. She didn't feel like pissing around with it all night. But, surprisingly, this time it opened with ease and Christine swung open the door to find a note on top of her purse.
Hey, don't worry about that bloody Firmin. Or any of the other people here, for that matter. They're just miserable because there's been talk that they're planning to start playing Christmas music already. That's bound to piss anyone off.
So no worries. You're doing fine. When you're new, cash office is overwhelming. But you'll get the hang of it. Besides, I found out that I'll be the one training you in customer service. That'll be fun!
-Meg
With a sigh, Christine gathered her things up and left the Superstore. This time, she was too tired to notice the shadow at the bottom of the stairwell…
-
Yay! Chapter two.
The sad thing is, my boss is even less organized than Carlotta is here. I didn't get my nametag until the end of the day, and you need it to swipe for your hours. She also lost my hiring kit and I had to fill out a new one.
And, in other news, I just finished training in Customer Service AND I get paid today. Huzzah!
So… back onto topic. I hope you all liked this chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
