I was walking into wal*mart today. As I passed the garden center the smell of fertilizer, freshly water plants and humidity in the air reminded me of my days working at The Home Depot.
I always enjoyed summers the most while working as a cashier. The garden center would fill with people eager to get started on sprucing up their lawns and various gardening projects. The Vegas heat was brutal but it was a fun environment with happy customers and the open air.
Working as a cashier in the garden center provided the most freedom. We’d self administer our breaks and lunches. The outside lot attendants would often hide behind the swamp cooler to escape from the sun. Cute guys to chat with were an added bonus.
There was a watering hose that we used to water the plants on display in the front of the store. Once I saw a lot attendant turn the hose upside down and spray himself under the falling water. All too tempted by the idea of a cold shower in the hot, hot sun; I waited until he left and did the same thing. The falling streams of cold water were such a temporary relief from the heat.
Seemed like a good idea at the time but ended with me fully clothed, wet and sticky for most of my shift. The answer to this dilemma, well get wetter of course! It eventually became routine. The lot attendants and I would take turns soaking each other while playing with the outside garden hose.
After one of our many soaking sessions we’d duck behind the air of the swap cooler to feel the breeze on our wet clothes. But sadly our summers had to eventually come to an end and we’d go back to business as usual.
My usual job was working returns on the close shift. While it didn’t allow me to have much of a personal life aside from my days off; I rather enjoyed the people I got to work around.
To date, my store manager from my time at The Home Depot was the sexiest manager I’ve had the pleasure of working for. At the end of my shift I’d have to take defective material to the receiving department as part of my closing tasks. He was always willing to help and I was able to enjoy a few private moments with him. At 19 a simple hello from him would make me blush. I recall once after closing he walked me back to my department as we talked. I hung on his every word not paying attention to where I was walking. I was headed straight for two windows on large carts; by the path I was taking I might have barely grazed them. Suddenly my manager grabs my hip with his left hand and pulls me close to him. I can feel the length of his fingers grabbing my side, his breath on my cheek and his palm so close to my bottom. I was so taken aback by this I don’t realize my head is resting on his chest. He says quietly, “You have to be careful with those, the edges are sharp, I didn’t want you to cut yourself.” A few moments later we reach my department. “I’ll get those windows out of your way,” he adds with a smile. Then he releases me.
