Old Portuguese bakery -2

It has been almost four months since I started working at the bakery. I remember as though it was yesterday, my first day of training. My shift was at 6 a.m. on a Monday, and I arrived 15 minutes earlier because I didn’t want to be late for my first day.

One of the first few things a Portuguese cashier (the lady who trained me) told me was different types of buns and their price. Some were 55 cents, while slightly bigger ones were 70 cents or 80 cents. We didn’t have price tags, so we kinda had to remember the price. While the cashier was out for a smoking break, a Portuguese grandma with a grumpy look came in and grabbed some buns. She then approached the checkout station, where I was standing awkwardly. Still looking grumpy, she didn’t say any words, just leaving a bag of 4 buns on the counter. I told her it was $2.8. She looked at me and said, “No, it’s not $2.8.” Her face somehow looked even more grumpier. I told her it’s 70 cents for each bun, making four buns $2.8. She said, “No way.” I said, “Okay, then maybe it’s 80 cents for each bun.” She said, “No, it’s not.” She snatched the bag, walked out of the store, and returned with the cashier.

The cashier told her it’s $2.8. The grandma, clearly irritated, said, “There you go. This girl was about to charge me 80 cents for each.” Before I could say anything, she left the exact change of $2.8 on the counter and left. I was dumbfounded and had to tell the cashier what had happened earlier. The cashier told me the grandma always does this to new people because she doesn’t like new staff.

The grandma is one of the few people I see every time I work. She always looks grumpy. I’ve never seen her smile (I secretly wondered if she had a bad day before coming to the bakery). She looks grumpy and annoyed even when she talks to her friend (the one who always gets a small coffee with a bit of cinnamon powder and observes me). But, I never not liked her. I find our first encounter odd, but I’ve never found her weird, rude, or unpleasant.

I knew I was right about her when I saw her walking down the rainy sidewalk with her friend. As they were about to leave the bakery, the rain got heavier to the point where it was almost impossible to walk outside even with a big umbrella. The grandma was holding her small umbrella over her friend. I could see her grumpy right shoulder getting soaked.

To this date, I’ve never seen her smile (or ‘ungrumpy’). I don’t think there would be a day where I could see her not grumpy. But I no longer secretly wonder if she had bad days.