IN 2005, I was asked to write a fiction piece for a Magazine Writing course as part of the Journalism program at GSU. Panicked, I decided to go with what I know.
Ladies and Gentlmen, enter my sick, sick mind, and meet Brick McBain: Bagging Hero:
People moved to Wilmington Island, GA for the relaxed, laid back pace of life that it offered its residents, but today that easygoing spirit was replaced by one of apprehension and an almost tangible fear. The sky had been growing darker and more ominous as the day progressed, with gray clouds swirling and racing overhead. Throughout the normally sleepy town, flags stood stiff at the apex of their poles. Cars clogged the island's main arteries and the wail of horns filled the air as motorists inched along Johnny Mercer Boulevard towards their destinations.
Inside the local supermarket, the panicked citizens flooded the aisles and piled nonperishable food items in their carts. Can foods, bottled water, batteries, matches, candles...legions of apron-clad stock clerks tried in vain to keep the shelves adequately supplied of these staple items. The National Weather Service had just issued a hurricane warning a few hours earlier, and Wilmington Island sat square in the center of the warning area. Hurricane Penelope was on the way, and the grocery store run was in full effect.
Every register had lines stretching nearly to the back of the store, and the incessant moans of the cash registers added to the anxiety of an already tense situation.
"BEEP!" they cried after each scanned item, literally hundreds of times per minute. "BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"
Each cry of the scanners represented one item that had to be rung up, bagged, and ultimately restocked. The orders began to pile up at the end of each register, and the cashiers were engaged in the fight of their grocery-store lives trying to keep up.
"Get on the phone and get our entire front end staff up here!" yelled store manager Rusty Shackleford. "Hurricane be damned, we've already got a Cat 5 in here, and we're gonna need everyone we've got if we're gonna hold back the flood waters of dissapointing shopping experiences!"
The wily veteran Johnny Kroger nodded at his boss' command as he hastily eyed his scheduling clipboard, the truest companion of any Front End Manager. Kroger was of slight stature. His curly black locks made him look more the part of a jam band enthusiast than a Grocery Store Leader, but he was a wily veteran, and he lived for weather scares like this. As he scanned through his schedule, he realized that every employee he had was either on hand or on the way. All except for one.
"Boss," said Kroger from behind the customer service desk. "Do you want me to call EVERYONE? Even...well, even employees who are on suspension?"
"Damn it, Kroger! We both know there's only one employee on suspension right now, and I don't have time for his showboating today," Shackleford shot back angrily.
Kroger, normally hesitant to question Rusty's snap leadership decisions, quickly scanned his devastated front end. Customers were throwing their hands up as they waited in seemingly endless lines. Shopping carts were as scarce as springs in the desert. Frustrated baggers ran hopelessly from register to register, packaging like mad men.
"Mr. Shackleford, I know that this is not the ideal situation for his return. But, damn it, sir, there's only one Bag Man who can pull us back from the brink of this hurricane-spawned grocery store nightmare. The others look to him as a leader. Look, I know you don't like his rogue bagging methods, and, hell, most of the time, I don't either...but there's no denying what the man can do behind a bag rack," said Kroger.
Shackleford, a stout, middle-aged man with a receding hair line that could only belong to a retail managment lifer, stared intensely at the scheduling clipboard. With laser-like focus, he ran every possible staffing scenario through his head. After a few moments, moments which seemed like an eternity to Kroger, a look of hopelessness came across his pale face.
"Johnny, is anyone cross-trained? I mean, is there anyone we can call?" asked the embattled manager.
"Sir, as I see it, no. There isn't."
Kroger saw the look of defeat on his manager's face.
"Fine. Do it. Make the call. But when he comes in, send him to my office. We're going to have a little chat before he dons this apron again." With that, Shackleford took several quick paces to his office and slammed the door.
Kroger ran to the phone and began furiously punching the numbers that he knew so well. A smirk came across his face as the ringback played.
"Here we go." Moments later. "It's me. Yes. Code Red. As soon as possible."
STAY TUNED TO MEET OUR HERO IN PART 2
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