The Little One

This afternoon I read Sharon’s post and was again reminded of the strange similarities we have between each other. It’s not just the hair color, which just looks the same, Sharon’s is much redder whereas mine is a strawberry blond (even though pictures tell otherwise), it’s the same optimism and idealism that traps me in, as Ron Burgundy would say, a glass case of emotion.

I work at Shop N’ Save, a retail grocery store chain in my neck of the woods. It’s fun to go away and see the other stores and what they name their pharmacy or their gas stations. I even remember the Winn-Dixie that John and I stopped in when we were in Florida visiting his relatives this past summer. There weren’t any Kwik-Fill’s or Foodland’s; maybe those names are even unfamiliar to you. But one way or another, I would up being a cashier at Shop N’ Save October of 2003, my senior year in high school.

I got the job through connections but really didn’t know who owned the store until someone pointed him out. I looked over and saw the first glance of the owner, a waddling 300 pound Santa Clause-looking fellow was making his way out the store. He never spoke to him, and still haven’t today. It seems that he spends most of his time in the office peering out through the window from time to time to notice a small yet fatal slip up by an employee.

Over time I caught wind what the owner wasn’t very well like around town, as a heartless kind of person who wasn’t very well respected by others. This past week mother enlightened me as to why. Apparently years before, back in the day, when Shop N’ Save was in it’s old location and there were only just a few grocery stores in town, the employees of Shop N’ Save went on strike- all of them. They wanted the union, something to protect their rights and give them a chance at equality. For one reason or another, they were out there picketing away was people honked their horns in support. Seeing this calamity, the owner, the same one as today, fired them all. All the meat men, the deli ladies, the cashiers, the baggers, and even the managers- gone, unemployed just like that. The town boycotted Shop N’ Save. And this is only a small instance of the owner’s actions.

I know there are more stories out there, some of them keep coming to me out of the woodwork, appearing and enlightening me even more. I first hand have seen the actions. This is where I come in.

For years now his wife has been going through Shop N’ Save, taking groceries, not checking them out through a register, and walking out the door with a big smile on her wrinkled face. I wave to the office and out the door she goes with her unbagged, unchecked, and unaccounted groceries. The idealist in me rages and ponders how much this is going to hurt the little man. Sure, people steal, but why throw off tine inventory count in the store and blame it on us? They surly can afford their own food. (This is a point where I could pull a low bow but I won’t.) To me, being a good boss is living like one, to live honestly and fairly to your employees. I thought this big fat cat from Kittanning who is “saint” at a Catholic church would know the difference between equality and rip-off.

My co-workers want me to call the union and tell them. Everyone in the store knows she steals food for free, so it’s not really stealing to him since he owns the store. I have the union phone number in my cellular, but can the union really do anything? It’s all a matter of how to live like a respectable boss. If the union did question his actions, what would he say? Probably something along the lines of “I’ve poured so much money in to this store” and other charitable words. I too want to be an idealist, but sometimes it’s hard. Yet in the best way to go is to be the example. I don’t have much respect for the man, but I have respect for my God. Even if I owned the store, if I owned the block, if I owned the town, I would have enough fairness to treat the little man with love. Wouldn’t you?