Tales from the Dollarama: Legacy

Welcome to a window within the world of Dollarama.

They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself. If so, then these stories must be fear incarnate. Let us delve once more into the realm of...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

As I finish scanning the customer's items and place them into a bag, I look back to him.

Me - "So, your total is 30.25$."

The man pats himself down and looks to me with a sense of pseudo-surprise.

Man - "Oh, I forgot my wallet, I'll be right back."

The man walk out the door, his hefty duffel bag bouncing off his back.

My co-worker looks to me, dumping the contents of the bag into a basket.

Co-worker - "Should we set this aside for him?"

Me - "Nay, I had a vision. He will not return."

An hour passes. A day passes. A week passes. There was no sign of the man. It must have been an amazing odyssey that the man undertook.

A month passes. Oh, then by two months he actually returns and comes to the cash with a fresh set of items.

Man - "Oh, I forgot my wallet, I'll be right back."

And then this time for certain, he mysteriously disappears, never to return. Some wonder if he is still looking for his wallet. Perhaps he never had a wallet to begin with. Or maybe, his gluttonous duffel bag had swallowed it whole. It is the only conclusion I can come to in regards to how the bag managed to grow two sizes between entering and exiting the store.

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 Imagine a world where everyone is passive aggressive and when they aren't they are active aggressive. This is a very real world that takes place in...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

As my co-worker finishes cashing a customer out, she hands him a ten dollar bill. He refuses to take it though.

Bill refuter - "Oh, I don't want that new ten dollar bill. I don't get why they even changed the person on the bill. People say he owned slaves, but no Canadian has ever owned slaves. We had the underground railroad. And that new lady on the bill? She's not even Canadian, can you believe that?"

I was working at the next register over, at awe of every word that poured out of that man's mouth. As he left, a customer came to my cash, and she also overheard the conversation.

Customer - *Deep sigh* "I have a brother like that."

I turn to my co-worker with a sort of dumb smug expression.

Me - "He's right, like, man, why do we even have Queen Elizabeth on our bills? She's not even Canadian."

The customer in front of me snaps to attention and shoots a steely gaze at me.

Customer - "Friggin' millennials! Go back to school!"

My face froze, dumbfounded that my snarky comment would illicit such a reaction from someone. But I most remained composed. One thing was for certain though, I was not going to forget about charging for bags on this customer.

When the rest of her order had gone through, she looked to me one more time.

Customer - "I'm sorry, I have to know. Do you really not know about our relationship with the British empire?"

There was a lot I could have said in this situation considering that I was taking a course on Victorian Literature at the time, but really, I just wanted her to leave. I returned a deadpan expression.

Me - "It was a joke, goodbye."

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 The dictionary defines fear as an unpleasant emotion that is caused by something we perceive as dangerous. It is only written that way because retailers would sue if they gave out the true definition. This truth can be found in no better place than...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

I found myself in the food aisle yet again, sorting out the candy bars since customers enjoy nothing more than tossing chocolate bars around like orangutans discarding their banana peels.

Nothing was necessarily out of the ordinary, that is until a man enters the store. He walks past me and loudly sings along with the radio. I guess he was a big fan of Lady Gaga's The Shallows. As he continued his impromptu karaoke, he just unabashedly began to shove items down his coat. He had absolutely no regard for the fact that I was watching him do it. Just as quickly as he came, he just walked out the door. Really, he didn't even wait for the song to finish.

It is my belief that he is one lab accident away from becoming a super villain, alias: the Songbird.

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 Long long ago in a mall far far away...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

There I was, tending the cash. While I was putting one order through a scraggly man enters the cue. He looks to the display of lighters and just picks up the whole thing and disappeared into one of the aisles.

Upon scraggly man's return, the display had magically vanished and in its place was one of our fake bonsai trees. Of course, his little over the shoulder pack was rattling like he was smuggling snakes. He places the bonsai on the counter.

Scraggly man - "That's everything."

I looked to the lighter display next to me.

Me - "Are you sure you don't want to pick up a lighter?"

Scraggly man - "Nah, I'm good."

As I scan his singular item, I notice that his hands were jittering.

Me - "Oh, is it cold outside?"

Scraggly man - "... Nah, it's fine."

I nod my head and breath out a sigh of understanding. As I tell him the total, I expect to hear the ol' "my wallet's in my other pants" excuse, but no, he pulls out the money and actually purchases the bonsai. I suppose it is cheaper than paying for, random example, thirty lighters.

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 Prepare your special brew and lean in close. There is yet more to tell of...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

A rather unsuspecting man approaches my cash register and places a water bottle on the counter. I scan it and return it to the exact position it was in prior. After a few taps on the touch screen of my register, I return my gaze to the customer.

Me - "Your total is 2.25$. Will that be on cash or debit?"

The man's head twitches in utter befuddlement, squinting his eyes as though I spat on his shoes.

Man - "What am I some kind of Martian!?"

My brain froze at that moment, like I was a computer that crashed and couldn't detect the system error that caused it. Luckily my manager was nearby and detected the disgruntlement of the customer.

Manager - "Is there a problem here?"

Man - "I'm trying to pay for my water bottle!"

The man throws his hands up in the air with a five dollar bill wedged between his fingers.

Manager - "... You can pay with cash."

The man places the bill on the counter. As I exchange the bill for coins, he continues to shake his head. Though he continues to mutter to himself.

Man - "I don't get why they make buying things so complicated, I have cash."

Once the transaction was complete, the man wanders off continuing to mutter to himself. I look to my manager for guidance as I'm still baffled beyond belief. She offer me a shrug and that was the end of that.

From that day forward, I stopped asking people how they were going to pay since most people are ready with their preferred mode of payment by the time I'm supposed to ask them anyway. It also helps to avoid the wrath of any Martians in disguise because if you ask me, that man is the truest example that extraterrestrials live among us. The man doth protest too much, methinks.

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 Tonight we delve into a story so heinous that the police had to get involved. Shocking? No. It is another day in the life of...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

There I was yet again, a slave to the cash register; shackled so that my co-workers could be free to stock shelves. A lady comes to my station and begins to place her items on the counter. I prep a plastic bag for receiving, but there is a question I am required to ask first.

Me - "Would you like a plastic bag?"

Lady - "Are you charging for them?"

I glance over to the giant sign at the front door, the one that very clearly states that we are charging for bags as part of our Earth Day incentive (which became permanent from that point forward).

Me - "Yes, five cents per bag."

Lady - "That's illegal, you know."

Me - "You can call the police if you want."

Lady - "Oh, they already know."

The lady sneered and completed her purchase, bag included; no doubt to use as evidence. We did not hear about any response from the police, however, we weren't sure if she was biding her time. Waiting for right moment to strike! Now whenever I see a police vehicle I feel the need to hide my face. How can I live my life knowing that the police have a five cent bounty on my head? It isn't a life, it's just another prison.

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 Fear intrinsically stems from that which is unknown. If so, the reason why people try to steal candy above all else must be truly frightening...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

When stationed at cash, the items that customers retroactively decide they don't need pile up rather quickly. As such, it is the duty of the head cashier to put such items away when the store isn't busy. I found myself in that very position.

As I was putting some chocolate bars away, I noticed a child with his backpack in his hand further down the aisle. The bag was wide open. The game was afoot. I put the items down and paced my way over. The child heeded my approach and began to hobble away, hiding around the corner while his free hand was joggling around within the bag. He abandoned two Wal-Mart shopping bags in the process. I turned the corner to meet the frantic child.

Me - "Are those your bags?"

The child nervously nodded and returned his pack to his back. In understanding, I nodded back to him.

When I returned to my station, I called my manager and asked her to call security. Given that we're outside of the mall, it takes them quite a while to show up, but our young friend browsed around long enough for them to make it.

Security looked through the boy's backpack, but he had no items from our store. When they checked the Wal-Mart bags, they found dog treats (not from our store) and four sticks of Starbursts. Conveniently inconvenient, he had no receipt for his items from Wal-Mart, but he asserted that he bought them there. Security was at an impasse since they couldn't prove that he stole them. He could have bought them at Wal-Mart. My manager was adamant that he was lying. He put put on a puppy dog face.

Boy - "You don't want to believe me, do you?"

I got to thinking. I can't remember the last time that I saw Wal-Mart selling Starbursts in sticks, most places just have them in bags now. I presented this notion, and the child was convicted guilty.

It did not sit right with me though. I only presented a hunch rather than factual information. For a while, I felt sorry for the kid, must have been the puppy dog eyes.

While I wallowed in my woes, wondering if I convicted an innocent boy, I stopped by Wal-Mart to verify my hunch. To my surprise, Wal-Mart did sell Starbursts in sticks. I was not wracked by further guilt though. The sticks we sell at Dollarama are roughly thirty centimetres in length, the ones at Wal-Mart were half that size. The child was trying to dupe us and nearly got away with it. Underneath those teary eyes was a devious mind.

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 The most mysterious specimen the Earth has to offer is that of the lowly retail employee. They may look human, but they are understood as lesser. However, this status seems to disappear when the alpha manager is in the vicinity...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

Once more, I was confined to the duty of cashier. Things were going as per usual, perhaps too per usual. A young man comes along and place down a drink and two Bueno bars. I scan them and nearly finish the order.

Me - "Your total is 4.50$."

The young man looked to the screen with a squint of disbelief.

Man - "The display showed those Bueno bars as 82 cents."

For the sake of confirming his assertion, I go to check the display. When filling the basket with new product, one of my co-workers forgot to change the tag. The label on the display clearly said it was Mr. Big, not Bueno. I return to my station.

Me - "Yeah one of my co-workers forgot to change the tag, the Bueno bars are meant to be labeled as 1.50$ each, sorry."

Man - "That's against Ontario's code of conduct for sales. I've worked in retail for three years!"

I would have debated further, but I've been through this situation before. Given that I don't have permissions to edit sales, I called my manager to the front. Not to mention that Mr. three years in retail was not going to listen to a lowly Dollarama employee.

Man - "C'mon, what are you calling up your manager for!? How long have you been working here!?"

Suddenly the man had evolved into besmircher.

Me - "I have to. I've been working here for two years, I've been working retail for six."

Besmicher - "Oh yeah, do you like it?"

Me - "Not at this moment..."

My manager shows up and I explained the situation. She remains completely deadpan.

Manager - "... And?"

Besmircher - "That's against Ontario's code of conduct."

This time however, besmircher spoke very sheepishly. Perhaps it was from my manager's vacuous eyes.

Manager - "Yeah, no, we aren't allowed to alter our prices like that. The code of conduct doesn't even apply to this situation either since anyone can just move a label from one product to another."

Besmircher - "Oh, so sorry, ma'am."

Besmircher places his money on the counter, leaving more than 4.50$ in change, about two dollars worth. He picks up his stuff and promptly leaves. What a wiener.

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 For some, the twisted fruity flavour of Twizzlers is beyond that in which us mortals can comprehend, much less resist. Here is merely one example of what happens to a man who succumbs to its siren call...

TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA

It is nearly five minutes until close. The day is at its end, yet a weary man shambles into the store ready to shop. He approaches the aisle nearest to the door and browses for a moment.

Considering that we were close to locking up the store, I was assigned to door duty. Coincidentally, as I settled at the door, the weary man had taken his backpack off and was in the process of stashing a pack of two foot long Twizzlers inside it.

I warn my co-worker at cash about the weary man. As he nears the exit, my co-worker confronts him, but he blows her off. Unfortunately for the weary man, I stood between him and the exit.

Me - "Sir, I saw you put the Twizzlers in your bag!"

The weary man scrunches his face, acting like he's been insulted.

Weary man - "Is that so?"

I gazed at his backpack, which wasn't zipped up all the way, and pointed to the exposed corner of the Twizzlers pack.

Me - "Yes, I can still see it."

The weary man's eyes become the size of dinner plates as he inspects his backpack. Having been had, the man pulled out the Twizzlers and handed them off to my co-worker.

Weary man - "Oh, I'm so sorry..."

He mutters to me as he sheepishly rushes out the door past me. I return him a deadpan expression and lock the door behind him.

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If you think your heart strong, then consider delving even further into the pits of despair. They thought it couldn't be contained, but yet it has. TALES FROM THE DOLLARAMA is now available in print. Now each story not only holds terror within its content, but also the fear of physical lacerations should you shiver when turning the page. This edition chronicles every tale that has been told here, including exclusives and bonus content, such as a top 5 list of stolen goods. Number 2 will convince your dad to come back home. Links are below.

Softcover:
https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/eric-leger/tales-from-the-dollarama/paperback/product-7jp5w2.html
Hardcover:
https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/eric-leger/tales-from-the-dollarama/hardcover/product-782py6.html