Mimi’s Corner: Back at the Five and Dime

If you’ve been reading this column, you may remember how I foiled a “gang of thieves” operating in the Woolworth store in Dayton where I worked as a teenager.

Did I get rewarded or praised? Nah!

The only thing I got was the fear of leaving work alone at closing time, since the cashier, who was in cahoots with the ruthless, bloody-thirsty cutthroats (a slight exaggeration for effect) knew who I was and knew I walked to work, uphill both ways, even in summer-time snow.

Did I let that stop my crime-fighting ways? Nah! Was I going to let crooks run rampant over MY dime store? Nah!

Actually, I have no idea if any crooks ran rampant. I only know that I tried my best to foil the best-laid plans of a duo that wound up getting away with it. The ploy was for two guys to use the “quick change” scheme on the naive 18-year-old working the checkout lane. Little did they know that I had a mind like a steel trap … actually, a mind like an abacus.  They thought I would be easily intimidated.

Hah! They didn’t count on Abacus Abby! 

Here’s the deal: The two hot shots, good-looking, well-dressed young men, approached the checkout to buy a very inexpensive item and pay with a large bill. In this case, it was a Readers’ Digest. (Suspicion aroused—why would Bad Guy #1 want a Readers’ Digest?)

Then he said to me, “Sorry, I only have a twenty,” and handed me a twenty-dollar bill. The sale was 35 cents.  Proper procedure for me was to ring up the sale, take the twenty, put it on the ledge over the till, count out the change required—$19.65 in this case—hand it to the customer with his receipt, put the twenty in the cash drawer, and close it. Smile, say “Thank you,” and the sale is complete.

But in this case, as I gave Bad Guy #1 his change, Bad Guy #2 said, “Oh, #1, you don’t want all that change. I’ll pay for it. I have the exact amount.”  Bad Guy #2 then tried to give me the 35 cents and told me to return the twenty to #1. 

Abacus Abby was on high alert. I said, “If #1 gives me back the change I gave him, I’ll give him the twenty.” Then they both started yelling that I was cheating them, yada-yada, creating quite a scene.

I immediately punched the “Help me” light that summoned my supervisor; let’s call her “Virginia.” She arrived and they both started accusing me of cheating them. I tried to explain what was happening, and that they were the ones cheating the store.

“Virginia” immediately told me to take #2’s money and give #1 the twenty. I tried to explain that I had already given him $19.65 in change. She just insisted that I give him his twenty, which I did. #2 never even gave me the 35 cents!

The look that I gave them as they walked away was the most evil look I could muster in my teenage frustration. But it was topped by the smirks on their faces. I looked at “Virginia” and told her that at the end of the day, she would find the register to be short $19.65, plus another 35 cents.

And she did.

Perhaps what “Virginia” did was Woolworth’s policy. I have no idea. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they considered confronting minor crimes to be not worth the hassle. I quit soon after that.

Because when you can’t respect your boss, it’s time to go. That was true at Woolworths; it’s true today.