(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you!! Have another!
For a little backstory, I’d been working in a grocery store since I graduated high school, to pay for college and life and all that capitalist fun fun. This is the story of how I got hired into the florist department and thus became a part time florist.
Back then, my sister wasn’t yet old enough to drive. Whenever I could, I’d drive her home from school. So she and a friend get into the car, and she asks, “Why do you have all of the bamboo from the lake?”
“It’s for work.”
“Why does (Grocery Store) need bamboo?”
I had no idea, to be honest. I just knew the floral department and my manager were on a desperate hunt for bamboo. Desperate enough that they’d texted the whole produce department offering to pay a reward for whoever could bring some in. This was great, because we had a shitload of bamboo and wanted money. It was bad because it reinforced my dad’s belief that if we keep EVERYTHING it will one day pay for itself, but that’s another story.
But anyway. So I drive to work with my sister and her friend, and call my manager to let her know I found the elusive bamboo. I pull up to the front of the store, get out, and chat with Manager while we wait for Florist and Bride to come look at the elusive bamboo.
Yup, Bride. As it turns out, the bamboo is for a wedding! Bride is DEAD SET on having bamboo sticking out of her table arrangements, and the bamboo the store ordered didn’t arrive for Very Boring Reasons. If we didn’t get that bamboo the WEDDING IS OVER. DONE. RUINED. The sale would be ruined, the world would end. And naturally, Store didn’t want this on their record.
So Florist and Bride arrive, and…I need to explain the “scene”.
Picture me, truck to my left, facing Manager and Bride, with the truck to their right. Bamboo is in back of the truck. Florist is standing next to me. About 20-30ish feet to my right is the store entrance. Standing in front of the store is a lone teenager, completely absorbed in his phone.
So, while Manager and Bride gush over the bamboo and explain all of the wedding theme and arrangements and omg y’all, they talked forever. For. Ev. Er. I just want this lady’s money, so I’m being polite and nodding and smiling, when I see my sister’s arm slowly creep out of the back window and veeeerrrrry quietly pick up a stick of bamboo, and sloooooowly pull it into the cab of the truck.
Next, the passenger window carefully creeps down, just an inch or so. Bride and Manager are still talking.
Next, to my absolute horror, I see the end of the bamboo peek out of the crack. At the same time, my sister’s arm is creeping slowly back down for another stick of bamboo and pulling it into the cab. The first stick is slowly leaving the window.
Florist spots it. Manager is still talking to Bride. The bamboo is still sliding slowly out of the car window. Only now, I can see the second stick.
It’s been taped to the end of the first stick, combining their reaching power. My sister is reaching for a third bamboo stalk. It slowly disappears into the car. The Stick is creeping from the window.
The third stalk, as you might have guessed, was taped to the second. My sister had already acquired a fourth. I think I legitimately felt time slow down, watching this ever growing bamboo monstrosity slowly reach for the teenager absorbed in his cell phone. Manager and Bride were still talking. I cannot remember what they were saying. Florist is clutching my elbow, trying not to stare at the stick emerging from my car.
My sister acquires a fifth stick. There is an old couple staring at the bamboo slowly emerging from my car. The teenager still hasn’t noticed. Florist is trying to interrupt the Bride, trying to get her to come inside the store, without turning around and seeing The Stick.
I, at this point, have Ascended. Full on disassociation. Smiling and nodding, and so sooooo not getting that reward money. The Stick is about 20 feet long. It’s almost touching the oblivious texting teenager. My sister takes a sixth or seventh stick.
Florist has slowly begun to maneuver Bride and Manager to come look at something in her car, conveniently parked away from The Event emerging from my truck. I think I may have met God, in that moment when Bride and Manager started walking away WITHOUT TURNING AROUND.
Meanwhile, The Stick has landed, very gently, on the screen of the teenager’s phone. He freezes, staring at it, before looking up and seeing the sheer length of the thing, and the truck it’s emerging from.
(I should probably mention that the truck is white, with tinted windows. The side is littered in decals that make it look like someone has decided to shoot us up in a drive-by. They’re quite realistic, and have horrified many church ladies.)
His mouth drops open, and he almost drops his phone. The Stick swoops up, and comes to a rest on his head. He lets it happen for a second, before screaming and swatting it off his head like an errant spider. He runs into the gas station next to the store.
I can hear my sister and her friend hyperventilating with laughter from inside the car. At this point, my soul re-enters my body, and I yank The Stick out of the window (smacking the other end into the automatic doors, whoops) and began ripping it apart, terrified Manager would come back and see it.
I BARELY managed to get it back in the truck tape-free by the time the Bride came back. She paid me for them via awkward side hug and casual pocket breast pocket slipping. It was exactly as awkward as you can imagine. I thanked her, shoved the sticks into her cart, and rushed home, finally breaking and crying with laughter along with my sister.
After all that, you might wonder how this ended up with me getting a new job? Two or so weeks later Florist offered me a position in her department, saying, that if I could keep my cool while that weird shit was going down then I was worth more than hauling boxes in a back room somewhere, and she was happy to offer me a raise to take me 😉
Just another WordPress site