From a short man weighing twice what he should, came a squeaky voice, “I told you to call me Fred. I like burritos and the cops don’t even know this place exists. How many you got for me this week?”
“No small talk today? Okay, right to business. I have ten, almost new, heavy duty ones. That’s $3,750 to me. When are you gonna to pay more than one-fourth retail?”
“Maybe when you call me Fred and I get more money for them. And when you stop griping about my lunch. I’m getting some new requests for them, so I could use maybe two hundred more, but not all at once.”
“Ohhh, gonna cost you more…”
“Goodbye, Nate.”
“Always a pleasure, Freddy.” Nate sauntered off smiling. Every week, the conversation was a variation on a theme with Freddy. Maneuvering past piles of DVD players and other electronics, he called back, “Next time maybe I bring you some burritos that don’t need microwaved and maybe you pay me a little more, huh?”
“Maybe.”
#
Nate was laughing and joking around with other employees at a checkout lane when he caught a glimpse of the store manager smiling at him. Last week he overheard the regional manager asking about the chatty new bagger that the associates and that the customers liked.
Nate was pulled out of his reverie by the manager’s voice. “Nate, please round up the carts in the parking lot. I ordered forty new ones two weeks ago but there are never any in the store ready for customer’s use.”
“I did that five minutes ago, but I’ll be happy to do it again, soon as I finish up here,” Nate said. Nate loaded the bagged-up groceries into a cart and turned to the elderly patron. “Here, let me take these out for you. It’s a beautiful day. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
With a smile, he was out the door and pushing $60 worth of groceries in a $1,500 shopping cart. This cart would make six in his van. It was going to be another good week.