Personal Narrative: The Checkout

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

The African-American male cashier named Roger had never spoken any form of; Hello, How are you, or even asking if I found everything okay. The only thing he said to me by Roger was the total amount due. From what I could tell his attention was more focused on a conversation he was having with another person. I had also asked for a receipt when I was swiping my card and that request was ignored and had to ask him again after he went to start to ring the next guest items. After I had requested a second time for my receipt, he just had it printed out and then started with the next guest without handing it to me. I had to grab the receipt off of the printer myself. I had proceeded to go to the pick up for food and beverages was to wait for my drink.

“Casey, your group needs to do the stunt one more time!” coach said imprudently. It happened March 26, 2015; it was at the end of a two hour practice. During the summer months in South Georgia, it is utterly hot and humid, especially in our cheer gym (a warehouse with no air conditioner); it only has two heavy-duty fans and a roll-up door. With this in mind, my group became slightly irritated. Everyone was exhausted; nevertheless we still had to do the stunt anyway.

Just so you know, this is the Big Apple and I rule this town. New York City is filled with tall buildings, great culture, and historical sites. No other city has so much beauty that it takes your breath away; yet, there is a real danger that lurks on the streets. I should know because I am Detective Michael Morgan a United States Super Spy in charge of capturing dastardly villains who are set on destroying our world. Armed with mind-altering powers, Alex Higgins is on the top of the FBI’s list of the ten most wanted men in America. This thug is one of the greatest danger to our world and must be captured and jailed in the vault of death. There is no place safe for him to hide from the law and rumor has it, he is in my town. You break the law here in New York City, you pay the ultimate price: freedom.

I have been in the Marine Corps for roughly three and a half years and throughout that time I have done many things. Most of the things that I have done were with Combat Logistics Battalion 26. For three years, I worked with that unit through work ups and a deployment and I have seen and done many unique things. However, nothing I did with CLB 26 felt fulfilling, but that all changed when I changed units to CLB 8.

It is a somewhat unspoken agreement that people all have, and breaking this agreement is frowned upon. The bathroom is a very unsocial place. You go do your business and then leave, it is very simple. The social norm that I broke was talking to someone in the stall next to me, and continuing to have a conversation even when it was clear they did not want to have one.

I chose to break the norm of either smiling at strangers or giving them a neutral look when you make eye contact. I decided to give every stranger I passed a confused look like they had just spoken to me in another language. I must admit, this made me feel a bit goofy. I was on the fence as to whether or not to do this in the first place but I decided I just had to. The responses I received were quite comical. A few people asked if I was alright, and one person even asked if I had a problem with them.

“Hey you want to drive”, my step-dad yelled over the loud engine of blue grizzly 4x4 quad I yelled “yes!!”, so as I got one the quad I put on my helmet and fased the strap on the same color helmet.

Alexis, the cashier, did not have a hello greeting for the customer. She looked up at the customer smiled and asked for the Ingles Advantage Card. She did work effectively to remove the products to get them scanned. The bagger wore a name tag that said Service Clerk. He was a Caucasian male, five feet, ten inches tall, about twenty three years old with short brown hair. He wore a dark polo shirt, khaki pants and an apron. He separated food and non-food items and doubled bagged the larger, heavy items. I never saw this bagger say anything to the customer or look at the customer. He bagged the products, put them in a cart and pushed the cart to the end of the checkout. Alexis smiled and said thank you to the customer as she gave them the

Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity

Six consecutive second place, Science Fair trophies sit in the deepest, darkest, most isolated place in my house... my closet. Upon entering the closet, I’m automatically overwhelmed with a horrifying stench, a mixture of plastic, metal, and disappointment, also known as second place. Once the scent enters the nasal cavity, it immediately calls war upon the cerebellum, attacking strongly and injuring the motor cortex, thus creating a chill to run through my body, leaving me powerless and without words. After the chill, next follows the noise. Mockingly congratulates me, whispering “great job, you almost had it,” oh the humanity; “second place” repeatedly echoes in my ear until I escape the closet.

I have never worked retail before this internship. Everything that I am going to learn is all new me. The department that I was assigned to work in is Cabinet and Appliances. The managers I am learning under is Joe and Heather.

Growing up as a teenager you go through many obstacles. Some face more difficult ones than others. One of the many obstacles most teenagers go through is finding your comfort zone, and being able to step out of it at times. Many people including me are skeptical about crossing their line of comfort. These past four years I have had a lot of growth, and most of the experiences have had to do with me finding myself outside my comfort zone.