Light and Darkness

Classic from the Past

I must praise the majority of patrons that walked the halls at the cinema today. You came and watched and did a good job not to annoy the hell out of me...and the last few days, it has been touch and go with my moods.

But in the spirit of Fresh Fish, I must submit a COD so I give you one from just a couple of weeks ago. It's the Something for Nothing guy.

This COD made his way through my line with wife and children. I can't recall the exact number in their party but I think in total, the number was five. They ordered quite a bit of food. A couple of hotdog combos, the largest popcorn combo, candy, and the lot. Pretty sizable amount of food. We like those...drives up my daily transaction average which nominates me for the prizes at the employee meetings (don't get too excited. They're usually coupons...sometimes exprired at that...to a local fast food chain).

All was said and done with Father COD.

Approximately ten minutes later, I was refilling a popcorn tub for a woman who was complaining about the stale popcorn we had the audacity to serve her. I wasn't paying much attention to who she was talking to until I heard the gentleman say something about a complaint as well. Handed the miss her popcorn and turned to the man (who cut in line, by the way).

It was the COD. He handed me a hotdog that was still laying in the foil wrap and gave me a look that threatened lashes and a visit from the Better Business Bureau for my lack of customer service skills. That look! Hmmmmm, what was wrong with it?

Well, laying on the hotdog were several curled pieces of hair. Hair that looked like several strands had been pulled from a brush and discarded on the floor. I glanced at the man again with a questioning look. I had to because I couldn't believe he had the balls to give this thing back to me. This hotdog on its bun with hair obviously on it. And all he could give me was a stern face that promised civil disobedience right there in a full theater if I didn't take care of the problems I OBVIOUSLY caused.

I took the damn dog and walked to the damage bin, suddenly channeling a black woman from the guest list on Jerry Springer.

"You think I'm a damn fool. Like I don't know you dropped this mothafucka on the floor. Like I don't know it's your own damn fault that your hotdog is nasty. Want something for nothing. I ain't stupid. You're the stupid ass that can't hold your weiner. Hmpf!" I muttered under my breath.

Threw the hotdog in the bin, grabbed a fresh, naked one from the hotdog corral, and handed to the COD.

"Here you go. Have a nice day," I faked.

And when he walked away, "Like I can't figure you out by the mustard and ketchup UNDER the damn hair that you dropped the fucking thing."

Fresh Fish

I had been toying with this concept of a category titled "Fresh Fish" recognizing the Customer of the Day or the COD. Why refer to them as "Fresh Fish?" Well, obvious answer is the reference to the cod. BUT honestly, there are those CODs that need a good slap in the face with a freshly caught, dead, wet fish....preferably a huge marlin that knocks him/her out until your shift is over and you've gone home to a huge glass of wine. Anyone who has a job dealing with the public (and might I say, a large number in that public) knows exactly what I mean. We each have a COD that we go home to a loved one and bitch about. Hell, some of us may even kick said loved one just to release some of that pent up frustration.

I've got a few that are just fantastic. These are the people you brag about to your fourth and fifth cousins at family reunions. These are the people you wish you carried a camera to work just so you can have proof that we as a race of people need not worry. No need to worry about the immoral practice of gene selection. No need to worry about a "Super-race" being created by altering the gene pool with our advanced sciences, which filter out the deformities and non-choice characteristics. The CODs are here to remind us that there is beauty in variety....even if that means putting up with an angry, stupid, slow, picky, whining customer. BUT in honor of those idiots whose fathers' slow sperms finally won ONE race up the Fallopian Tubes, I present a new category here on Light and Darkness...Fresh Fish.

Today's Fresh Fish goes to the grossest of CODs....the teenager. This young man of approximately fifteen years approached my counter this afternoon. First thing I noticed was his Bubba shirt and hat. You know....the camouflage shirt that displays his love of hunting and the Old South that is only surpassed by the magnificently beautiful trucker hat on his unruly mop of teenage hair. Next things I noticed were two objects in his hands: the large cup and large popcorn tub, both refillable for free at our establishment. He tells me that he needs refills and that he is going to buy nachos as well. First comes the cup.

"Diet Coke," he tells me.

I look inside as I ask him if he needs more ice. The cup has only a teaspoon of clear liquid at the bottom. Has this been washed out, I ask myself. Is this a dumpster dive treasure? I looked closer and saw a minuscule ring of dirt at the bottom of the cup. O-K....Filled it up anyways.

I reached for the popcorn tub that looked battered. No sweat. People sometimes grip their concession delights tightly when munching away. "Butter on your popcorn?" I ask as I look in.

"Yes. And I'm going to get nachos too," he repeated while showing a twenty twisted in his hand; and my eyes moved in shock between him and the tub.

"Did you take this from the trash?" I questioned.

"No."

"Are you sure? Because there is a lot of hair and dirt in this," I spurted out rudely in disbelief. Images of the floor staff emptying their dustbins into the trash cans sitting right outside each theater door popped into my head. Next I saw this boy reaching into the trash for the most usable cup and tub and shaking out the leftover popcorn.

"Yes. It's my mother's," he exclaimed emphatically.

I know I grimaced. I know my lips stretched out into a ewwwwwww. "Whatever. OK. Do you want butter?"

"Yes. I'm getting nachos too," he repeated once more, I think more to prove that he honestly owned these recycled, discarded items.

People....I filled that dirty, nasty tub FULL of popcorn. It was beautifully overflowing with hot steaming popcorn and warm buttery topping layered throughout. And all I could think was.....God, what if the previous owner spit a loogey into this thing because he was choking on a kernel?