"Dissing the Discounts" by Troy H. Cheek on Dec 13, 2004

"Thank you for dining at Sir Pukesalot Family Restaurant and Taxidermy Service. What can I order for you today?" said the register girl.

I scanned the menu, which was silly because I always ordered the same thing whenever I dined in on Saturdays. Hey, it's my rut and I'm happy in it. "I'll have the Pukesalot Family Fish Value Meal, no sides, and a large diet drink."

Punch. Punch. Click. "Yes, sir. That will be $6.66. Sorry that I can't give you your discount."

I reached for my wallet. "What discount?"

"Your policeman's discount. I see from your uniform that you're only a security guard."

Ahem. "Actually, that's 'Healthcare Security Professional.' I'll also answer to plain old 'Security Officer.' The terms guard and watchman went out in the last century."

"Whatever. You're not a cop, so you don't get the discount."

"When exactly did I ask for the discount?"

"Well, you're wearing your uniform."

"I just got off work. I didn't feel like changing clothes during the drive over here."

"I still can't give you the discount."

"I never asked for the discount!"

"I'll call for the manager for you."

The manager walked up, chewing a cud of gum that would choke a cow. I've seen smaller udders on cows, too. "What's the problem here?"

"He's demanding the policeman's discount," the register girl reported.

"I am most definitely not," I responded. "I just came in and ordered my meal. She's the one that started blathering on about discounts."

"Sir, we only give discounts for law enforcement officers, fire fighters, EMS, doctors, postal workers, forestry service, and Wally World Land greeters. Guards don't count."

Ahem. "Actually, that's 'Healthcare Security Professional.' I'll also answer to plain old 'Security Officer.' The terms guard and watchman went out in the last century."

"Whatever. You're not a cop, so you don't get the discount."

"I didn't ask for a... Oh, never mind. I'm leaving."

"What's the problem here?" asked a woman.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the manager."

I pointed at the other woman. "Then who's she?"

"She's the manager."

At this point I noticed that the register girl also had [MANAGER] on her name tag. "How many managers do you have, anyway?"

"I'm the store manager, she's the shift manager, the Muffy there is the register manager."

"He's demanding the policeman's discount," the register manager put in, not unkindly. Not unfalsely, either.

"No, I'm not. I never asked for a discount. I may be a tad upset that every time I come in here it turns out that my identical order gets rung up differently and I pay a different amount, what with the random discounts and whatnot, but as long as I get decent food at a decent price, I'm happy."

"What do you mean, you pay different amounts?"

"On different days I'm given different discounts, or the same discount but for different amounts."

"That's not possible. You should have never gotten any discounts in the first place. How did that even happen?"

"The very first I came in here in uniform, I was given a 'uniform' discount. I didn't ask for one. The guy at the counter just gave me one. I made sure he understood that I was a security officer, just in case he thought I was a cop. He assured me that it didn't matter. As long as I put on a uniform and put myself in harm's way, I qualified for the discount. The next three or four times, I told whoever was working the register then as well. After a while, I just kept quiet, but got some kind of 'uniform' discount each and every time, though it was always for a different amount."

"Well..."

"And sometimes I'd get the special of the week, even though I hadn't actually brought in the coupon for it."

"Well..."

"And occasionally I got to cash in my frequent flyer miles."

"Well..."

"And once I somehow got the employee discount."

"Well..."

"Then there were all those times I got the Senior Discount. I'm still a little upset about that, now that I think about it."

"Well, maybe just this once, we could give you a few percent off."

I ordered, again. Then I counted my money. "Oh, and sometimes I pay different amounts because the register person shortchanges me, like your register manager did this time."

"I DID NOT!"

"I gave her a twenty, and she gave me back change as if it were a ten."

"I DID NOT!"

"Check the register."

"I DID NOT!"

The store manager handed the shift manager a key which let her open the register. She found a twenty dollar bill in the tens bin. In fact, she found a lot of twenties in the tens bin.

"But, but, but, but," butted the shift manager. "But the register total always comes up right when we count out the cash drawer at the end of the shift! We're never more than a few dollars off!"

I glanced at the register. "All she has to do is keep track of how many times she shortchanges, then right before the end of the shift, she pockets the difference."

"Nonsense! All our employees are screened!"

"'Screened' as in 'door?'" I asked.

"What?"

"Your carefully screened employee is sneaking out the back door," I pointed out.

"Well, why are you just watching her? You're a cop! Stop her!"

"We just established that I'm not a law enforcement officer."

"But, but, but but, but, but..."

"I have no authority except that granted to me by my employer. You're not my employer. I have no right to stop anyone."

"But, but, but but, but, but..."

"I don't even think I could do a citizen's arrest, this being a misdemeanor and not a felony..."

"But, but, but but, but, but..."

"She's getting away," I pointed out.

"Somebody stop her!"

I sidestepped around the mass exodus of managers, supervisors, and team leaders to the rear, then I picked up my food. I also made correct change in the open register.

Well, almost correct.

After all, I had to factor in my Senior Discount.

Copyright 2004 by Troy H. Cheek. Reprint with prior written permission only. Comments and questions to $mail:theview$