So sue me, I make $7.50/hr

America’s favorite pastime

In the most exciting turn of events to transpire in my otherwise menial shift, I experienced my first hardcore legal altercation last night. Litigation, America’s new favorite pastime, was an entity I fortuitously avoided in my 23 years. But last night, a shallow pool five inches in diameter spurned a throw down.

It began innocently enough. Around 7:45pm a well-dressed albeit ornery retiree seeking out her favorite baked beans barged through the door and approached the counter. I directed her to the fateful aisle in the freezer section and returned to the line of customers when the “alleged incident” occurred.

Now my sister insisted that I wipe up the minor leakage from a nearby cooler, which I had done just an hour prior. While not large enough to elicit concern, the puddle was apparent enough to warrant a several inch detour. With evidently no time to spare (until the ensuing confrontation, which endured for nearly an hour), the patron waddled to the freezer “allegedly” without skirting the puddle. In hot pursuit of baked beans she “allegedly” couldn’t afford to skirt the puddle. However, according to her account, she DID NOT FALL. Being such a fine-tuned physical specimen, she evidently sensed the potential for hyper-extension in her knee and self-diagnosed several weeks of physical therapy. On the store, of course.

It’s all fun and games until someone files an accident report

Interestingly enough, when I was first summoned after the “alleged incident” she was ranting about the size of the bean containers. Perhaps that agitation aggravated her admittedly pre-existing “inner knee tendon issue.” I tried to stifle my snickers, especially when she demanded to author a statement illuminating the nature of the “alleged trauma” she endured. Still not grasping her perceived gravity, mistaking it for extreme melodrama, I passed her a discarded scrap of cardboard. No blood, no foul in my book. And, of course, I was being environmentally conscious using recycled cardboard as the vehicle for her note.

Finally, I relented and provided her with a pad on which she began to chronicle the odyssey that was her “alleged slide” down the aisle. In painfully deliberate cursive she detailed the note using her practiced lingo from “allegedly” years in the health care industry. This was clearly not her first “alleged” slip and slide and I expected that she has chased in on physical therapy on the dime of several merchants in Rhode Island.

To this contentious end, she informed me that she’s related to lawyers. Congratulations, lady, who isn’t? With this legal gesture she insisted that I sign her document, but I refused to provide my full name. I’m already suffering the ills of under-employment, I really can’t afford a legal altercation. Plus, she was threatening my livelihood, the store! As if I’d stand by and watch my nieces’ college funds be ransacked by a lunatic out for the thrills of physical therapy and litigation.

Dock my pay for gross negligence I guess

For fourteen tortuous minutes I drummed the counter waiting for my brother-in-law to arrive as she railed about our “alleged” gross negligence in the leak department and the potentially deadly consequences. I honestly didn’t anticipate any drowning in the puddle, let alone injuries. She fulminated about the therapy she would likely endure, though she managed to maneuver over to make her elaborate statement with ease. What about the therapy I will have to endure to recover from her insanity?

Through intimidation, yelling, and flat out obnoxious behavior she attempted to bully me into singing her outlandish and not legally binding statement. Instead I scrawled across the bottom that I did not witness the incident in bold capitals and printed my first name. At last my brother-in-law arrived, but she dismissed his presence as inconsequential to her as he is not a doctor. Upon his arrival she began to scribe a second interpretation of events, as if the first was not sufficiently thorough. No police report was filed but she made a photocopy of her statement about the “alleged incident” for both of our records. Thanks, I’m sure my brother-in-law will treasure it as a testament to human insanity.

The verdict

Oddly enough, the angriest party was her husband who was abandoned in the car for the duration of this “alleged incident,” and was also likely suffering the ills of several decades of marriage to this contentious beast. He stormed in and questioned her whereabouts for the past hour while he was idling in the car. She had previously mentioned they had an appointment but it was obviously not important enough to halt her quest to harangue free physical therapy.

On the plus side, none of us at the store were arrested for assault, though this woman had my fist twitching. During the proceedings, I had my sister on the phone so she could bear witness to the verbal onslaught while watching the wild gesticulations and my impatient shrugs from the surveillance camera. When the woman left, my sister admitted that despite the coverage of the cameras, the spot where the “alleged incident” occurred was actually in a blind spot, rendering no evidence in her favor.

I can’t wait for the incensed wannabe lawyer to hear that piece of evidence. I may only be a minimum wage cashier, as she pointed out, my testimony holds up as well as any other American citizen in a court of law. I was never much of a baseball fan, but I can really get into this litigation thing.