Today I had several sobering conversations in the liquor store that I work at. I continuously hear complaints about the rising cost of our stock. A middle-ages male customer, who is a regular customer at my store was commenting on the price of his lower-shelf blended Scotch. I explained to him about the devaluation of the Dollar versus the Pound (Which is up to almost $2) and how our distribution center was probably out of the Scotch that had been produced when the Pound was cheaper. The customer left, mumbling "Fucking Bush." under his breath.
More after the break . . .
Another customer, a retired woman who is also a regular, and who I had inferred from previous conversations was very conservative (in the talk-radio sense--she has often railed against the 'evil liberals' while I attempt to keep from laughing at her.) She was quite concerned about being priced out of her favorite wines. Today she bought Vermouth, and a pint of (English) gin instead and proceeded to rant to me about how the State of Washington was jacking up the price of the gin. I explained (calmly) that the exchange rate with the Pound had more to do with the increase that the State did. She looked at me and shook her head. She then complained to me about the budget deficit, and how she couldn't believe that she had "voted for that stupid son of a bitch Bush." I tried not to make my grin too obvious.
The last sobering conversation was, by far, the most disturbing for me. A young woman, who I recognized, but wasn't somebody that came into the store regularly approached my register with her purchase. She had been crying and was having a difficult time keeping her emotions in control. She had overheard me talking to a customer about the price increases. I asked her how she was doing--like I do for all customers--expecting the usual responses. Instead she said:
"My husband is in Iraq right now. I am not doing OK."
I said "Oh man. I hope he is doing OK over there."
She shook her head, fighting to control her emotions.
"He sounded bad. I don't think things are going very well over there."
I wished him Godspeed and she thanked me.
There was a line of customers so I didn't have a chance to talk to her further. I wished her good luck as she left the store. I wasn't in much of a mood to hear carping about our price increases after that. I wanted to tell customers:
"If the worst God damned thing that happens to you this year is that they raise the price of your booze, then you can count yourself very lucky. I had a customer today whose husband is in Iraq . . ."
I didn't, wanting to keep my job. I feel very fortunate to return from work, to my wife and dogs, not having to worry that my wife will be killed or maimed tonight, or driven insane from PTSD. It puts all of my daily bullshit in perspective. Thank you for reading.