Little victories

Today is what I like to call a 'combo-breaker' plus one. Today was the fist rainy day after a steady stream of sunny ones, hence the term 'combo-breaker.' It was also the first real day of the half term, it was no longer a weekend, nor a bank holiday. This meant we were rather busy at work.

There were 2 moments today that stood out. The first being an rare occurrence, the kind of thing that only happens in legends told by other old cashiers down to their grand-children and their children's children. I never thought I would live to see this day. 

A wee boy approached my till asking for a chocolate bar priced at £1. Something I typically do when dealing with just children in this manner is pick up the item they want and ask them if they had enough money. His face beamed when I asked him this. He reached into his pocket and produced a money purse in the shape of a lizard, most likely a stocking filler he received last year. Carefully he unzipped the Gecko's back and poured its contents onto my counter. A wave of pennies flooded out.

I instantly admired him for saving up all this money, clearly he wanted to display his youthful achievement with another person and I was obliged to count every last one of his coppers to emphasis the scale of his saving. Then I considered that he had hoarded all this cash for one glorious moment on a single chocolate bar that we unapologetically overcharge for. Briefly I felt sorry for him.

But despite this understanding he was pleased to get his chocolate. 30 seconds later his sister came along and did exactly the same thing.  

The second important moment of today was a trial where I came face to face with my biggest fear. While clearing tables a group of young girls brought the existence of a fairly large spider to my attention. A degree of understanding I can typically do without. They pointed to its location and my heart-rate accelerated. It was an uncomfortable sight. But, my man-hood was in question, the girls began jeering at my after my face contorted with disgust and fear. Calmly I entered the kitchen, grabbed some tissue paper, approached the beast, breathed deeply and went for the kill.

'It's gonna pounce!' declared a girl behind a chorus of chavvy laughter.

This shattered my concentration but my aim was true. I snatched it from the wall and binned him promptly. I started at the garbage bag for a while and laughed nervously to myself, triumphantly I turned round, ready to face waves of applause and adoration from the crowd. No such luck. They had gotten on with their coffee sipping and iPhone games. Guess it's the little victories we hold most personally. I felt like the little boy with his chocolate bar, our victories humble on the surface but cosmic in implication.