Attatcked by Employees
TUCSON -- Early this morning, the 19th of March, I felt like a snack, so I decided to walk down the street to the nearest Fry's grocery. I got more than that for which I had bargained, and no food to boot.
I had intended to purchase a pint of Ben and Jerry's for my girlfriend, and a frozen pizza for me. To keep the food cold on the walk back , I use a frozen food bag with ice packs, and I had worn my backpack since I was on foot and the walk is over a mile each way. I also had in my backpack an 8-pack of "fun size" candybars, miscellaneous tools, my keys, some cd's, a pair of headphones, two micro SD cards, a USB drive (in a case), a pair of binoculars and $150 hidden inside the case for the USB drive.
I can never remember the current kind of Ben and Jerry's my girlfriend is keen on, and since she was still asleep (and not wanting to call and wake her once I was in the store) I figured I'd just grabthe lid from the previous pint and refer to it as needed.
Yes, I realize I could jave just written it down, or stored it on my phone, or whatever, but it seemed simple enough (and quick) to just take the lid from the top of the recycling and stick it in my jacket pocket. This would be my undoing.
For when I attempted to pay for my three items, the cashier (who I believe dislikes me anyway) demanded to inspect the contents of my pockets.
*- the backstory, or why I think that cashier dislikes me-*
Once about a year ago, when I had forgotten my "vip" card, and I was the only shopper in line, he wouldn't just scan one from the pile behind the counter. OK, says I, let me have a new one. So he hands me the card and attatched paperwork, which I separate and immediately return the plastic to him for scanning and subsequent discount. No good, says he, you have to fill out the form. He was all about making me fill out the form. So I start writing "b-l-a-n-k" for my name and "123 any street" for my address. He stops me saying, "they won't take that." With a derisive chuckle in his voice, he repeats the elocution, this time adding,"That's not even a real address," and trails off.
Ah yes, thinks I, the appeal to the elusive, authoritative "they." Checkmate, thinks he, or so I would imagine.
"OK," I said,"Sorry about that, let me have another." After heaving a sigh, he presents me with another form. This time, I am careful to indicate my full name "Jonathan Q. Public, esq.," residing at 1040 Taxation Highway, &tc., and so on in such a manner I gave the appearance of legitimacy. The fact that I refused to put my real name and address down escaped Captain Brainpower until I was at the door, at which time he hollered a sarcastic question about my form: "Your last name's Public?"
"That's right," says I, "John Q. Public, that's my name." So I don't think he likes me. That incident pales in comparison to what happened this morning.
So as I was trying to pay, got an odd look on his face and said something like,"I need you to also pay for that ice cream in your pocket." I told him,"It's just a lid," whereupon he replied, "well I need to see it." I said,"you can see it, that's why you're asking me about it. " That may have been a poorly worded utterance on my part, but what of it?
The cashier then refused to let me pay for ,y items, so I began to walk out, while he followed me, tried to block my way, and actually put his hands on my at one point, but let me leave. The incident gets worse.
As I walked from the parking lot and stepped onto the sidewalk, I heard someone hollering "Hey!" and so on, then the sound of approaching footfalls. Two Fry's employees began to aggressively interrogate me as I walked down the street.
Then one of them grabbed my backpack and tried to pull it off me, which I did not allow right away. One of them punched me in the head whule the other kept trying to get my bag off me. Soon I was tired of being punched, and I was not fighting back, not wishing to commit any criminal acts, a restraint which is beyomg Fry's employees. I was trying to undo the chest srap and slip out of the pack, when they threw me down in the street and pulled off my bag, with which they retreated into the store. One motorist had stopped, I guess to watch, but he sped off when I called to him. I tried to calm down, and started to walk home, fuming, when I realized they had my bag in the store.
I went to get it back, and after a threat from one of the employees to knock me down again, and an accusation that I stole the items in my bag, I got my back pack returned, missing of course! everything but my keys, my ice packs, and some tools. I thought I was supposed to have taken ice cream.
I ask, who are the criminals? I wish I had stayed, caled the cops and pressed charges. I did not know how long that might take, and at this point I just wanted everything to be over and never see Fry's again. In hindsight, I should have stayed and pressed, but I had a vitally important Doctor's appt. very soon, and I could not afford to miss that appointment.
I am humiliated.