Team Member Handbook (2020)

“Thank you for shopping with us today! Our first priority is the health of you, your families and our team members. So we’d like to remind you to please keep at a distance of six feet from those around you while you shop and at check out. We appreciate your understanding”. It plays every 15 minutes, it plays in my head constantly like an annoying song stuck in my head. And it plays exactly in the same voice and tone when played over the loudspeakers. But it's just a constant reminder of the new normal. During my breaks I spend my time looking at articles of how other people are dealing in our current situation. I read articles about immigrant workers losing their battles against COVID-19. Friends and acquaintances trying to raise enough money to cover cremation and expenses to reunite their ashes with their families back in their home countries. This virus gives a lonely death, but even a more lonely one to those dying in a country with absolutely no family members around. Reading that breaks a part of me every time, a reality I’ve known far too wel, but still not gotten used to. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are set for the vulnerable, but people still cut the line with a huge sign that specifically states it’s reserved for guests over 65 years old, pregnant women or anyone the CDC considers vulnerable. Causing more traffic and longer lines before opening. There are stickers on the floor to help guests distance 6ft away from each other, and it's frustrating to still see people standing right next to each other. Guests tapping my shoulder or getting right in my face to ask the same annoying questions of, “Why don’t you have this item”,“Why are you limiting items ”, or “When will you ever have this item”, my entire shift, every time I go into work. When the pandemic first hit the nation everything felt like a lucid dream, it didn’t seem real. Part of me still can’t believe this is actual reality. The store became busier than Black Friday, as we became more and more short staff. Our backroom is mostly empty; there is no bread, disinfecting or canned supplies; the shelves are mostly bare. Guests waited outside the doors way before opening time, and rushed inside holding tight to their carts to take all of the toilet paper, leaving the people after them with nothing but facial tissues. More and more people are starting to wear different types of fabrics, masks, and gloves; as our new reality settles more and more.