The 4-9 Shift
As I mentioned before, my part time job in high school was working as a stocker/bag boy at the local Ebeling’s IGA grocery store. Many legends of Norway, Michigan, worked there before and after me, and I am incredibly grateful for the good times that were had and life skills that were learned working that job. During the school year, I typically only worked weekends because I always had some kind of sports practice after school, but occasionally there would be a week or two between one sport ending and another beginning, so my boss Dave Ebeling would put me on a few weekday 4-9 PM shifts. Those weekday 4-9 shifts had certain characteristics, some of which were awesome and some of which sucked. Anyone who worked at the IGA back in those days will surely recognize these traits and hopefully get a laugh.
When you came in to work, you knew the back area was going to be fucked. This never failed. See, the back area had a section that was completely dedicated to sorting empty bottles and cans that had been brought back for the Michigan $.10 refund. There was a bin for just about everything you can imagine: plastic, aluminum, Coke, Pepsi, Miller, Budweiser, you name it. Sorting returns was a nasty job because, inevitably, you’d get splashed with empty cans that were still half full of stale beer or had been used as chew spitters before being discarded. Once a bin of empties was full, you’d pull the giant garbage bag out of the bin, tie it up, and fire it down the stairs to the basement. Every so often a truck would come to pick up the empties, and we’d have to go downstairs, wade through mountains of garbage bags to find all the ones of a certain brand, and then haul them back up to the loading dock so the truck could take them away. It was a quite a system. Many of the people who worked the day shift acted like they were too good to sort empties, so when the 4-9 workers came in, the back area would just be full of shopping carts haphazardly stacked with returns. All of this crap had to get sorted and cleaned up before going home at 9 or else we’d get an earful. It pissed us off to no end.
Funny customers would come in. Some silly things always seemed to happen on the 4-9 shift. One time my boss Craig was showing me where he wanted a new aisle end display put up, when we both noticed a guy by the canned fruits and vegetables stuffing items into the inner pockets of his winter coat, prompting a visit from the local cops.
Another time, I happened upon this guy who was holding a 40-oz of Miller Lite and anxiously walking up and down the aisle that had over-the-counter medicines and what not. “Hey Man, you guys sell condoms?” he whispered to me. The guy caught me off guard, and I really didn’t know the answer. After talking to Craig, I had to regretfully go tell the guy we didn’t sell condoms. Craig, being a very shrewd businessman, had condoms on the shelf about a month later. I wonder if there is a person walking around who was conceived that night because the Ebeling’s IGA in Norway, Michigan, didn’t sell condoms at the time.
This one guy, who I knew worked as a custodian at the school, would come in and buy two 40s of Hamm’s beer. I don’t know who in their right mind would drink Hamm’s, but I guess it was cheap and got the job done.
Old school fear of missing out made time stand still. I worked at Ebeling’s from 1999-2002, so this was years before I ever had a cell phone or the ability to easily text or otherwise communicate with my friends. If I was working a Friday night shift, my friends would often swing by at some point to pick up supplies and let me know where they were going to be later in the night. One time, I had just carried out for an old lady when a group of my friends pulled up with the windows down and “TNT” by AC/DC blasting. It always sounded like I was missing something incredibly fun, so I would start watching the clock and time would drag on until 9:00.
Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner. Ebeling’s had a great deli section that had things like fried chicken, potato wedges, pasties (not pastries, pasties…look it up if you’re unfamiliar), and a whole lot more. At the end of the day, instead of just throwing out the extra food that hadn’t sold, the deli ladies would put it on the break table in the back so we could feast. It cannot be overstated how much food I would stuff down when I got my 15-minute break. I’d eat until my eyes were seeing double and I could hardly move. Oftentimes, I would get a massive stomach ache from eating so much so quickly, but it was worth it, and I loved those deli counter ladies for hooking us up.
Mama P. would stock up. Now, this didn’t happen every 4-9 shift, but it certainly happened a lot. Ms. Pollard, affectionately known as Mama P., was a teacher of Home Economics and Foods, classes where students learned how to cook and do basic things in the kitchen. There were many times I was out on the floor stocking a shelf or doing some other kind of work when I would spot Mama P. pushing not one but two shopping carts that were both completely piled with food for her classroom. It was insane how many items she would fit into those carts. Mama P. liked to come into the store when she knew it wouldn’t be super busy, like after 8 PM or when she knew something was happening that would keep people away. One Super Bowl Sunday, I was watching the big game on the 13-inch television in the meat room when I got called to pack up one of Mama P.’s massive grocery hauls. I couldn’t believe I was having to do work at work. It seemed like it took forever to get everything packed up and out to Mama P.’s car, but she was always appreciative. I never thought too much about it at the time, but the fact that Mama P. was doing school work stuff at night was just one example of how much she cared about us kids. She really went the extra mile for her students and always held us to a high standard with a firm but gentle touch.
We had to sweep the floors. As the end of the shift approached, we had to get out the big push broom and start making our way around the store. Like a lot of other things in that job, there was an art to this project. Up and down all the aisles, around display cases, make a pile in a spot where a customer wouldn’t walk through it and kick it around, shake the broom off outside…it was a whole thing. We would always tell the new guys they had to go all the way down the block in front of ERA Chevrolet to shake off the broom or Craig would get mad. Nothing like a little first-day hazing to keep things entertaining. Making the final passes with the broom as the lights began to dim and the day wound down always left me with a peaceful feeling, like the hard work was done and the day was over. Well, at least until I could meet up with my friends and blow off some steam with whatever was going on that night.
If you worked at Ebeling’s and enjoyed reading this, let me know what you remember and/or what I missed. I’d love to hear some old stories.