For most people, the hardest part of the time change is remembering to change the clocks before they go to bed on Saturday night. They are rewarded for this with an extra hour of sleep on Sunday morning. Aaaahhh. It feels good just to think about it.
But, most people don't work the graveyard shift in a convenience store on Saturday nights. A store that sells beer, wine and spirits. In a town where alcohol sales end promptly at 2:00 AM. Which, thanks to modern technology, was automagically set back to 1:00 AM on every yahoo's smart phone.
Being a stickler about correct time, I grabbed a stepstool and changed the store's wall clock promptly at 2 AM. And so it said 1 AM, of course. A few minutes later a young guy came in and brought a six-pack up to the register.
"Nope, sorry, I can't sell you that," I said.
"But it's only a few minutes after one! You can buy beer until two!"
"The time changed at 2 AM. The clock says 1:05 but I can't sell that to you because it is after two."
"The time changed, so it's not two o'clock yet!"
"Do you want me to call the cops?"
"What? Why?"
"So they can explain to you that I can't sell alcohol anymore tonight."
"But it's not two o'clock yet!"
You get the idea. He left in a huff and returned momentarily with a smartphone in his hand. He showed it to me.
"It's 1:08. You have to sell that to me."
"It is, but it isn't, and I really can't. Seriously, do you want me to call the cops? Because I will, so they can explain this to you."
He stormed out, saying, "Have fun working in a gas station for the rest of your life, ya douchebag."
I said, "Fuck you too, ya asshole," but quietly so he wouldn't hear me.
About 15 minutes later, a woman (who was probably in her late 30's or early 40's and really ought to know better by now) came in and tried to buy a large single beer. I tried to explain the time change, but she played the same game as the tool who preceded her. I won't bother with a transcript, because you can just re-read what I wrote above and you'll get the gist of the conversation, complete with earnest displays of modern cellular technology, with the automatic EST/EDT updates and all that jazz.
She didn't insult me on the way out, but she did say that the owner "is my cousin, and I'll talk to him about it." I encouraged her to do so, even making sure she got my name.
"My name is Jay! Make sure you tell him it was Jay!" I called out, as she went out the front door making frustrated gestures to whomever awaited her out in the parking lot.
You know, I tried that trick plenty of times when I was younger, but I didn't get pissed off when it didn't work. I didn't expect it to work in the first place. But it's kind of like a barroom tradition to try to get another drink after last call, using the "time change" excuse. It never worked, but we all chuckled good-naturedly and didn't get mad and insult the bartender.
Too bad I didn't think of explaining it that way to the two assholes who came in. They wouldn't get it anyway. From the way they argued, one could reasonably conclude that they actually believed that they should have been able to buy alcohol. I also didn't think to tell them to go try that in a bar and see how far they get.
And then I had to work an extra hour, because of the time change. An extra hour in a store where I can get everything done with an hour and a half to spare on a normal night. Yep, I was bored stiff by the time I left and dog-tired when I got home; I slept like a log for 12 hours. I awoke at 9 PM, before my alarms were scheduled to go off, and briefly worried that I had overslept again. I was far too rested to be waking up at the normal time! But a quick glance at my phone told me that I was up early. My body hasn't caught up with the time change, of course, so it thought that it was 10 PM. I took advantage of the extra time and had a leisurely hour before leaving for work in a relaxed and unhurried manner.
No comments:
Post a Comment