Learning to be a Cashier in Las vegas

By Sheila Donnelly
Learning to Be a Cashier in Las Vegas

I have been in Las Vegas six months. The winter here has been great for a southern Minnesota girl who spent so many years living in a drafty farm house, wearing layers of clothes and not taking her long johns off until May each year. Long Johns! Not many people in this part of the world even know what long johns are.
Since November, I have been working at a gas station owned by the corporation Terrible Herbst. There are over 100 Terrible Herbst gas station convenience stores in Las Vegas. The one I work at is number 266 located at Decatur and Meadows in central Las Vegas.
It has been challenging for me working in a convenience store that takes in over $10,000 in currency daily. My past work involved being creative and using words when I worked for the Austin Daily Herald. This job requires accuracy in counting money, taking inventory, keeping records and trouble shooting with the many customers that filter in all day long.
When I began work here November 2007, I had just arrived from living in the sleepy town of Albert Lea, Minnesota. I was excited, upset and bewildered. I did not know how to use a cash register, count vast amounts of money, or how to keep records. I was constantly making mistakes and Pat, the woman who trained me had been a cashier most of her working life. She rolled her eyes at me, sneered and snorted and yelled at me every time I made a mistake. The manager of Terribles 266 was Ken, a short in stature Hawaiian, with a missing font tooth, and a small paunchy stomach. He would come to my register when I was in training and say, “You must work faster! Faster! It so easy! Why you make so many mistakes?”
Being a cashier, I know is not rocket science, but the cash register came with many, many different buttons. My biggest problem was learning how to correct mistakes. All gas pumped must be prepaid. Customers would come in and tell me, “Thirty dollars on pump six.” I would type in $30, press the pump 6 button, along with the prepaid fuel button. When this is done a check mark goes on pump 6 to show it is activated. The customer would leave the store, and not go to pump 6 but be on pump 4! Now, I had to take the money off pump 6 and move it to pump 4. It took me a while to figure out this transaction. I kept coming up short at the end of the day, because when a customer paid with a credit card, I was not properly trained that I had to start the transaction all over when he or she was not on the pump that was stated. I also had to go into the records and print out a receipt that showed that the customer’s credit card was not charged. Try and explaining this to a customer that is in a hurry and there are 7 other irate customers in front of the cash register waiting to make their purchases. In the midst of all this learning process, Pat turned on me the day I told her to quit yelling at me. The rage and wrath of this woman spilled forth. I had seen her turn on other workers, demean customers and snarl and snap at her down-trodden husband, now it was my turn to be her whipping post. Now, she screamed at me or would not answer my questions. Last week when I came to work, she snapped at me, when I told her once again to not yell at me and she hollered, “Go to hell, Sheila! You put everyone through hell.”
I laughed and she started circling around and stomping her feet like Rumplestilskin when the princess found out his correct name. Seeing me not get upset, did something that day… yesterday, for the first time when I came to work, she talked to me about her grandchildren and how she had brought her two year old granddaughter a purple and pink tricycle. I acted as if she spoke kindly to me everyday. It probably won’t last, this pleasantness, but her ire is her problem and not mine.