Every larger produce department has at least one. You know, the kind of squirrelly type of personality. The one who simultaneously gets on the crew’s nerves but does so in a way that people come to like them despite their annoying quirks — or perhaps it’s because of their quirks.
We had such a personality on our produce crew when I was in my late teens. His name was Don Duffield, but everyone called him by his nickname, Duffy.
Duffy was a heck of a produce clerk. He hustled, but at the same time he would pepper the rest of the store’s employees (especially his fellow produce clerks) with all sorts of random questions and comments. They were usually not serious or even thought-provoking ones. Rather, Duffy spewed his nonsensical opinions in the hope he’d get a rise out of someone.
Provoking all right. A troublemaker. But like I said, he did it with a smile, trying to liven up everyone’s day.
Duffy also liked to pull pranks on fellow employees. One annoying thing he did to me was that he would occasionally pile our plastic produce trays in the back room. These trays were used to do “the wash” as we called it — soak leafy greens in lukewarm water, then fill and transfer the filled trays to store overnight in the cooler. Like placing flowers in a vase, this helped wash away excess dirt, refresh and crisp the greens.
The annoying part? Instead of stacking the empty trays (that we also used to pull leafy greens off the wet rack at night) in multiple manageable stacks, Duffy liked to pile the trays in a single stack, very high, something like 15-20 feet high. So high that I had to track down a ladder to safely retrieve the trays some nights.
It was just another annoying ploy he liked to pull. And as he piled the trays during his early shift (using the same ladder to pull his prank), I imagine that he was giggling away like the goofy guy he was.
Even though I asked him not to do this, he thought it was funny and continued to stack away.
So, one night after working the 2-10:30 p.m. closing shift, I was naturally tired and ready to pull the leafy greens off the rack, cover the remaining 80% or so of vegetables with wet linens (this was before automatic wet rack misters) and call it a night.
I went to retrieve the dozen or so trays needed to do so and realized that Duffy had them stacked to the stratosphere, again.
While teetering on the ladder, and as I was cussing old Duffy under my breath, I heard the call echo over the PA system: “Produce, call on Line 2.” Ugh. I eased my way down the ladder, nearly tripping on my way to the phone. It was Duffy.
“Hey, pal. I have a favor to ask,” he said ever so sweetly. “I’m at a party with my wife and won’t be in at 5 a.m. to set the rack. It’ll be closer to 8 a.m. (when the store opened). Can you just leave everything up on the wet rack, and I’ll straighten it out when I get there?”
That’s when the classic angel and demon duo popped up on my shoulders. The angel side of me spoke on the phone. “Why sure, Duffy. I’ll leave the rack up for you.”
The demon on my other shoulder spoke more loudly as I hung up. “Don’t pull anything? Heh. Duffy, your comeuppance time has arrived.”
It took me a lot longer to do, but I took that towering stack of trays and pulled everything — and I mean everything — off the wet rack and wheeled it all into the cooler. It was going to take him hours to get set up the next morning.
I think I did leave a partial case of turnips on the case. You know, just because.
I only wish I could have been there the following morning when Duffy arrived at a quarter till 8 and store opening time. I always took pride in leaving the morning guy in great shape, but as he rounded the corner heading into the produce department the following morning, his jaw must have dropped.
He not only had to reset the entire case, but he had to do so in record time.
A couple of days later I ran into Duffy as I arrived for my usual closing shift, just as he was leaving. He wasn’t mad. In fact, he had the biggest grin on his face as he wagged his finger at me and said, “Heh, heh. You really got me there, bub!”
I just smiled back at him. The trickster had been pranked right back.
Bless your heart, Duffy, wherever you are. That’s karma, produce aisle style.
Armand Lobato’s more than 50 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions. He has written a weekly retail column for two decades.
