This summer I worked at a dollar store, mostly because I did not have the foresight or ambition to find a higher-paying, more interesting job.

But, despite the boring hours and pay that will be below minimum wage next July, I did learn some life lessons and gain some insight into life.

I learned all customers develop a herd mentality when it comes to the checkout lanes after watching them rush the counter at the same time.

I learned it is very annoying when customers come in five minutes before closing. Is it really an emergency? Can it really not wait for tomorrow?

Of course, you can never ask any of these questions out loud.

You just smile and remind people in a pleasant voice that the store is closing in five minutes, hoping they’ll take the hint.

I learned no boss is the same.

One of my managers is proud of the fact that he has a lot of fish and has an unusual elephant-nose fish. I looked the fish up online. It’s weird.

Another manager, I learned, is passionate about the injustices in the world, from the need to drill for more oil, to the insult of the minimum wage, to the ridiculousness of poverty in our prosperous country.

They taught me that you can learn a lot about people by simply listening to them.

I learned from a customer that $1 carpet cleaner works better than a more expensive name-brand cleaner.

I learned little children develop extreme attachment to toys they find in stores.

When a mother tries to release a toy from a pudgy toddler-grip, the toddler erupts in a tantrum while I quickly scan the item and hand it back to the mother. She then thrusts it back at the child like a pacifier.

And giving money in exchange for a toy? Doesn’t work.

I relearned something I knew at age 5: The candy and trinket vending machine is a kid magnet.

It was the rare child who could walk past the array of key chains, stickers and gumballs and not ask mom, dad or grandma for some quarters.

It was the bratty kid who whined and protested when mom, dad or grandma explained either that they had no quarters or the treat was off-limits.

A lesson in parenting: Make sure your kids understand the word no.

I learned people don’t read advertisements — or don’t believe them.

The most-asked question in a store that sells everything for a dollar is: “How much is this?”

My response that it — whatever it was — cost a dollar always came with more shock than you’d expect.

I learned my conversational skills are sorely lacking.

It was a rare time when the conversation extended beyond the conventional cashier-customer pleasantries.

Me: “Hello!”

Customer: “Hi, how are you?”

Me: “Alright, thank you. How are you?”

Customer: “Fine.”

Customer then returns to unloading cart, digging in purse or dealing with runaway kids. Any other comments might include reference to the weather or a query about an item.

It was the rare person who might chat about the party for which he or she was buying or ask me a question that was not about the location of a particular item.

But the lack of conversation isn’t necessarily bad. It keeps the cashier and customer from investing too much emotion in a one-time encounter.

Even so, conversational skills are invaluable for connecting with those people who are more than random encounters.

I learned elderly people tend to be the friendliest.

The grandfatherly-looking men sometimes accompanied by grandmotherly wives were the ones who smiled the most, looked me in the eye, teased me gently and had alternate replies to the question, “how are you?”

Perhaps at that age, your ego and pride need less protecting. Perhaps you are free to treat everyone you meet as a friend.

Perhaps retirement makes people more relaxed and less burdened with deadlines and places to go.

I’m not sure. But I liked those people, no matter why the were kind.

I learned a homeless man will wear a parka, sweatshirt and jacket, even in 100 degree heat.

I learned I do not know everything, and a smile, an apology and a call to the manager will solve most problems.

I learned life — at its best and worst — is often its most sincere at the dollar store.

Sarah Rosencrans is a zoology and biomedical science junior. Her column will appear every other Tuesday.