Keppi

Today marks the end of my first 21 1/2 hour work weekend at Park N Shop. I'm not complaining, since I have friends who work 20 hours a day it would seem.

One of the customers I've had repeatedly in the last couple of days is Keppi. She's a long-time saleswoman at Macy's who I always recognize because she never takes off her nametag. I couldn't forget her name anyway, though, because no one has a name like Keppi. But anyway, every time I try to walk into Macy's to just peruse the displays of shirts and shorts, Keppi stops me and tries to get me to buy something.

"Oh, you really should try that on," she will say, holding up some cute colorful blouse that would fit me perfectly. "You would look great in it. Plus, it's on sale. Eighty dollars isn't that expensive. Oh, and if you open a Macy's charge account--do you have a Macy's charge account?--you'll get 30% off your purchase. You can't pass up a deal like that, sweetheart. You are over eighteen, aren't you? Well then, you really need to take advantage of these savings. There's no better time, doll!"

I'll smile and go along with her. Usually I will think about buying the shirt--that is, until I look at the price tag and realize that the shirt she wants me to buy is about twenty or thirty dollars more than I'd ever spend on a shirt (I'm admittedly stingy sometimes). So, I have to wait until another customer comes along to distract Keppi so I can make my great escape.

Well, in the last couple of nights at PNS, I've found that Keppi's not as peppy when she isn't on the pay roll. She'll come through my lane, laying the bananas and the paper plates on my register. I will smile at her and give my usual "Hi, how are you doing today?"

"Fine," Keppi will say flatly.

She usually will push her glasses further up her nose and squint at the computer screen. "How much did you charge me for that box of Cheerios?"

"Three dollars."

Keppi will keep looking at the screen as if she can't believe me. Then, after a long two minutes, she will glance back down and nod slowly.

"Good. I always have to keep track of the prices here. You guys claim to have things on sale but then when I bring them up to the checkout counter it's never the price you said it was."

She tells me this every night, and every night I shrug my shoulders and nod. This will be the duration of the conversation with Keppi. I'll bag her groceries in silence while she goes over the receipt many many times. Then she'll slip it into her checkbook and wait for me to take all her groceries and put them in her cart.

She doesn't even mutter a thank you. She just walks off.

Maybe she realizes who I am and that I make a break for it whenever she has her back turned at Macy's. Maybe icy conversation and slight stinginess are her ways of telling me that I should be more generous with my money at Macy's. Or, maybe she's simply off commission and doesn't want to be bothered with flighty conversation that she's had all day.

All I know is that we all must wear different masks around different people, and it's hard when we see others without the mask they usually wear.