The Horrors of Working At Walmart
After the pandemic started, I got a call from an unknown number, hoping it was about a job offer. I badly needed a new job with better pay. My old job cut my hours, and my manager had never been a good boss. I answered the call, and I heard a lady’s voice, who was asking if I’m interested in a job. She’s from Walmart, offering me a cashier position with much pay. She said she could work with my availability and see if I like the job. There was no interview at all that I started the following day immediately.
As a cashier, I scan through customers’ items and receive payments from what they are buying. We have two doors, one is the entrance, and the other is the exit. I also stay outside at the entrance to count how many people are in the store and remind people to wear their masks. When standing at the entrance, I face the parking lot, see customers coming in, and observe cart pushers collecting carts. There is this one coworker who talks to everyone. From customers to coworkers, he is a talkative one, who keeps mentioning his 1998 mustang. He offers everyone to buy his old car, including me.
“You better pay for that, help me out too,” Those were the exact words that my mom said while we were buying a car.
I have a Honda Civic 2017 EX-T, which is my precious child. I named her Vic, and she is my main reason why I should have a job. I had to admit that my mom and I didn’t do a great job at financing her, which led me to pay a huge amount every month. Not including the gas, maintenance, and car accessories, she is no doubt expensive.
Everyone who works at the store is nice. I have one co-worker who is nice and takes care of me. She has a son, who is figuring out how to deal with an online class. Every time we work together and our breaks or lunches is up, she always includes me in reminding our supervisors. On the other hand, it makes me sad that every day supervisors forget her lunchtime that the register had to shut down. Yet, she is not mad at all. She always says, “I’m hungry too, you know.”
It was Friday, and my shift was decent. I had to work from noon to 7:30 in the evening. Mostly, I have 10 pm shifts. Although my shift was acceptable, it was the busiest day. We couldn’t figure out why there were so many customers. It was not a holiday. Supervisors would also hop into registers to calm the store. The line would reach the produce, which across the cashier section. From there, I accepted my break and lunchtime would be late than scheduled.
I was at self-checkout. I directed customers to which register they could go to, assisted them who used the ‘scan and go,’ verified their age when buying alcohol, and made sure all of the people were scanning all of their items. Plus, I sanitized every register and filled the plastic bags. At the same time, cashiers in their registers couldn’t leave their place. They would ask for help from me, such as needing more change, price check, technical problems, or calling the supervisor. It was hectic.
Costumers were already rude and mad. We were understaffed too. Costumers would complain to me about how unprofessional we were. That was the first time in my life in which my heart was pounding. Everyone needed me, but I needed my lunch. I was getting busier each moment. Three hours after my late break, I was very hungry. Also, my shift ended in two hours. Plus, my lunch is an hour. It was funny how I came back from lunch. I only had 45 minutes left until my shift ended.
I have one coworker, who always does her hair very beautifully. She has a boyfriend that works here at Walmart too. He’s a cart pusher. She shares a lot of bizarre and uncomfortable stories she encountered working here. When she was a minor, creeps would talk and try to flirt with her. Hearing these stories made me feel bad for her. I couldn’t imagine myself in those situations.
It was a sunny afternoon. I was outside with a coworker, who has nice hair. We were counting people coming in. At the corner of the entrance, one goofy-looking guy was heading towards us.
“He’s here again, watch out,” my coworker said with a disgusted tone. He was an old creep who would love to target young girls. He would call everyone, “baby mama.”
He passed by and greeted everyone, including my co-worker and our supervisor, who just went out at the entrance. When he saw me, he stopped. His eyes widen, and he smiled from ear to ear. I knew he was bad news. He was trying to talk to me and ask how I was doing. I never looked or acknowledged him. Our supervisor right away let him went straight inside to stop bothering me. Thirty minutes later, he walked around to see me and started dancing in front of me. Again, I didn’t look. From there, I haven’t seen him ever again.
Months later, I came to work. A co-worker greeted me with, “Finally, you are here.” I was confused as her. However, she was sure that the management wanted me to stay inside the store and never go out. She asked me to go inside from the exit since the creep was waiting for me for hours at the entrance.
As soon as I clocked in, everyone was on the lookout for me. They were all eyes on him. I continued working in a register. I tried to calm myself and not letting the fear conquer me. This ended the day by putting him on the trespassing list. He tried to come back a few weeks later but our manager escorted him out.
One thing I witnessed at my work is that everyone has stories and different experiences. There are stories or experiences you couldn’t believe that still exists to this day. From a coworker who’s selling his car to getting lunch/break late, to having a stalker, there are situations that you never fully understand until it hits you.
Aside from those horrible experiences, it doesn’t give me a reason to quit my job. The fact that I have a part-time job with better pay still motivates me to work even harder, although they are consequences that I need to face. Alongside, there are co-workers, supervisors, or managers that are willing to help. Lastly, I still have to take care of my precious car, Vic. My motivation still stands and doesn’t let the fear take over to encourage me to quit this one-time opportunity (at the time).
