I ran around the store trying my best to avoid the others, while still getting everything into my cart and scanned as quickly as possible
At one point, even Samantha had hopped off the desk and started filling orders with us.
It felt as though we were in a race against the clock. We didn’t want to have to leave the day crew with any sort of backlog to deal with. They would have enough to handle trying to keep the store orderly and the customers happy.
The sun was streaming in the front windows and we were just about at the end of the shift when the phone in our department rang.
Without thinking I grabbed it on the second ring.
“Express order desk, Alyssa speaking, how may I help you?” I smiled into the phone hoping that the person on the other end of the line couldn’t hear how tired I was.
“Yeah maybe you can tell me if I am actually going to be able to pick up my dammed order today or not. I want to make sure I can.”
“I understand.” I nodded even though the customer couldn’t see me.
“I need to know because I really don’t want to have to drive over there again only to find out that you guys still don’t have it ready.”
“I know.” I sighed inwardly.
“Well are you going to tell me if my order is ready or not?” the woman snapped.
“Can I get your name please?”
“What? Isn’t it showing up on the call display?”
“No, I'm sorry. When the line is routed to this depar—”
“Harris. The last name is Harris.” She cut me off before I could finish explaining. “Do you need me to spell it out for you?”
“Nope, I have your order here. Giselle?” I said, pulling her order to the top of the pile.
“Yes. Is it ready?” The woman calmed down considerably.
“Most of it,” I responded without really thinking, as I scanned the list of items and started counting the number of items that were missing.
“What do you mean most of it?” her anger is rising once again.
“Well there are a bunch of things that are missing—”
“A bunch of things missing. What is missing?”
“Well toilet paper, the flour you wanted, tomatoes, grapes, ground beef—”
“Why is all of this missing? I don’t understand.”
“Well, with everything going on people are buying in bulk or more than they would nor—”
“You guys should be putting limits on things. So that this sort of thing doesn’t happen,” she snapped.
I leaned my head against the wall by the desk.
“We do have limits on many items but there's a lot of people all shopping extra amounts all at once.”
“Then you should be ordering more of everything if you are running out like this. What the hell good is a grocery store that doesn’t have groceries?”
“We have them.”
“Just not all of them, right? Useless, totally useless.” The woman huffed. “Cancel my order. I'll just go to another store. There is no sense in going to yours to get only half of the things that I need.”
“I’m sorry,” I said in a voice just barely above a whisper, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Right, sure you are. I have no clue why they call you lot essential. You aren't a doctor or a nurse, and the one job you do have you can’t even get that right.” And the woman hung up the phone.
I put the phone back down in its receiver trying to bite back the tears that were threatening to overflow.
“Everything ok, Alyssa?” Samantha asked.
I jumped. I didn’t realize that she had even come into the room.
“Yeah, I'm alright,” I said, quickly wiping my eyes.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Samantha said gently.
“I just don’t understand. Don’t they realize how hard we all are trying?”
“Sometimes people forget that we are humans too. That we have families to feed and keep safe, and that we’re trying our best.”
“I know. I just wish people could spend a minute in our shoes. We are just as scared as they are, but they get to stay home with their loved ones while we're out here in the line of fire to make sure they have the things they need for their families.”
“Most of them do, Alyssa; just a small few don’t. The sad part is they scream louder than the ones who do understand.”
“True.”
“Looks like it is time to get you out of here. Is your mom coming to pick you up?” Samantha said looking at her watch.
“Yeah, she should be here any minute if she’s not already waiting outside knowing her.”
“Ok, well, I’ll see you later tonight. Be safe.” She waved as she headed back out of the room.
I sighed and headed for my locker.
I stepped out into the blinding sunshine. I was glad that I was finally going home. The phone call was the final straw for me.
I felt defeated.
No matter how hard I worked, no matter how many hours we spent doing the very best that we could with filling the orders, making sure everyone got what they needed, and cleaning the store, it was never going to be enough for people.
Didn’t they know that we were trying; that we were doing everything we could for them; that we had our own homes and families who needed us too?
Didn’t they realize we were just as scared of the virus as they were, but that we still had to show up every day and do the best job we could so people could eat?
I bit back the tears once again as I walked to my mom’s truck and opened the door.
“Did you see that?” she asked as I went to get into the truck.
“See what?” I asked stopping half in and half out of my seat.
“That. On the sidewalk in front of the store.” She flicked a thumb backwards over her shoulder to a point near the main entrance.
I glanced back out the door. I could see a splash of colour on the concrete sidewalk in the middle of four orange plastic mini pylons.
“What is it?” I asked as I started to get back in.
“Go have a look. I think it’ll make you smile.”
“Momma, I am tired and I have had a long shift and a bad one at that—”
“I know, kiddo, but seriously. Go have a look at it.”
I sighed. Sometimes she could be a royal pain in the ass. I just wanted to go home and here she is telling me to get back out of the vehicle and walk fifty feet to go look at something.
“Can’t I look later when I come back?”
“Naw, I don’t know how much will still be there later. It's going to be raining all day. I don’t know that it will last.”
I didn’t bother closing the door just wandered back to where the first of the pylons was.
And I instantly felt a smile spread across my face.
Someone overnight had come by and made a massive chalk drawing on the ground.
There was every colour of the rainbow and the swirls of the background were like fireworks drawn onto the dull grey concrete.
In giant letters that were closing in on three feet tall it said, “THANK YOU.”
Underneath in smaller letters it said, “We see you too.”
I'll never know who wrote that. But somehow, I felt better about the whole thing. Even though we weren't doctors or nurses, we were still very much essential, and very much appreciated.