MuttonChops

I literally grew up in the land of retail. My father was a drug store manager and my mom usually worked on and off with him. Waaaay back in those days, child labor was a given. Rather than hire a sitter, my parents set me up on a box pricing items when I was 5 years old. By 11, I knew how to run a register, count change and “ Paper Moon ” was a quick study against flim-flam artists. I didn’t whine and generally enjoyed the feeling of being helpful. Customer service was priority and when on duty, I called dad “Mr. Carter.” At the same time, I learned how frustrating and aggressive the shopping public can be. Today’s events at a Long Island Wal-Mart proved to me that shoppers have gotten to a point of literally killing someone over a bargain. Retail work is grueling, underpaid, and thankless. No one appreciates a well-stocked shelf or an uncluttered toy aisle, but the minute an item is off the shelf, John Q. Public is annoyed and griping. Today, some poor clerk got in the way of an obn...