It's the Fuzz!

First of all, before I even clocked on tonight, I had to put out a fire. Literally. Someone threw a lit cigarette into the trash can outside and it lit up. I had to play bucket brigade. Now I'm a firefighter, too - I am an endless fountain of awesome.

Well, it had to happen sometime. It's Spenard, I should have known not to grow complacent in my surroundings and not expect something super cool and dangerous to go down at some point. My first ever shift involving the police (besides the plainclothes cop who comes in after his shift is over on his way home to get out of his suit) was tonight, after my coworker watched a guy shuffle suspiciously around the store and walk to the door without speaking to either of us. As he reached the door, my coworker, who had been watching the guy on our cameras, approached him and asked him where the bottle of Grey Goose was that he had seen in his hand.

Normally, in this situation, the person will either produce the bottle because they will be in less trouble that way, or they open their coats to prove there is nothing in them and are free to go. Normally.

This guy flipped. He started shouting obscenities at my coworker and threatened to take him outside and kick his ass. I reached for the phone to call the police as my coworker let the guy go, rather than let the situation escalate, and the customers I had just finished ringing up ran outside and got the guy's license plate number as he sped away.

I love my regular customers. They will go to the ends of the earth for me. We called the Anchorage Police Department and our own security guy, filed a case number and pulled the tapes. What happens from there is not my problem anymore. Boop boop boop. Excitement all around.

Why is it our lifters always take off with vodka? At least this time it was Belvedere, something from the top shelf instead of something cheap, plastic, and guaranteed to give you a wicked hangover.

In other news, tonight was the only time in my entire life one of the older gentlemen has not grinned broadly when I call them "darlin'." He actually put his hand up in front of my face and said "I don't appreciate that. My wife wouldn't want you calling me that. Waitresses do that all the time and they don't get tipped."

Well, that's because you're an asshole. Would you rather I call you that? Don't put your hand in my personal space because I was trying to be friendly. Everyone else loves me when I do it.

Talk to the hand.