Today I was farmed out to a store in the Hills of Beverly.
The customers were not the holy terrors I'd be warned to fear, it was just a bit of a zoo around 11 when the nearby Hotel had checkout. There is always a bit of disorientation when working in a foreign store, things are not where you expect them to be. Different stores have different facilities, expectations, practices, etc. It is like learning a new dialect of a language.

A few hours into my shift and the shift lead and I realized that both of us were on loan from other stores. And we were the only ones on. The third person who came in was 30 minutes late and looked like deep-fried mess with a twist of hungover.

10 minutes before I left, my temporary boss asked "Have you seen the tip jar?"

People who steal tip jars go to a special hell.