I love a good laugh, especially after hauling around a cart, with one stuck wheel, filled with perishables (short-shelf lifers) and canned goods (long-shelf lifers).
Long-shelf lifers are typically heavier than short-shelf lifers and weigh down the cart. One long-shelf item, a 48-pack of beer, elicited a wry comment from the cashier when I started to check out.
As the bright silver-colored carton glided along the conveyor belt, the glare from the package forced the male cashier to shield his eyes, before gazing at me with a cold-calculating stare.
“Hitting the booze I see,” he mumbled underneath his breath.
“What did you say?”
“You must be confusing me with someone else,” he said.
By now, I knew my face had turned all thirty-six variations of red on the color spectrum. “It’s a 48-pack, not a 96-pack,” I blurted. “And it’s only light beer.” Nicely played, I thought, realizing I just had an, “I’m rubber and your glue” moment. That’s it! Keep giving him more ammo to fire my way.
He cocked his head, as his lips curved into a 38-caliber grin. “Do you think I should ask you for I.D?” he said.
I narrowed my eyes while glaring at him, which further deepened the lines that stretched across my forehead, like ancient cryptic markings.
What an a-hole. Even someone looking down at me from a bird’s eye view, could clearly see I was over twenty-one, even the bird.
“It’s your call,” I said, and grabbed a can of LYSOL, my weapon of choice for eradicating germs. I pulled off the cap and thought, go ahead. Make my day.
He licked his lips, as the color drained from his face. “Do you have a card?”
“What kind of card?” I pressed, while glaring at him with the razor sharp penetration of a Ginzo knife. Could this be the moment when I’m IDed and then categorized in the supermarket database, as “almost, but not quite dead?”
His eyes averted my gaze. “Your store card.”
“Oh. But of course,” I grumbled, put down the LYSOL and dug through my purse for the store key tag card amid dental floss containers, broken pens, and expired coupons, While I searched, I heard a distinct clicking sound emanating from behind the register. I turned to see an increasingly fidgety cashier tap his pen against the check out counter rack. Impatience was not another of his virtues, along with disrespecting the elderly.
After I located the key ring, I tossed it onto the conveyor belt for processing.
He crossed his arms against his chest and waited for the key ring to reach him. Then he swiped the card on the register, and plopped it onto the platform on the other side. I would have to wait just as he did.
As soon as I reached the other side, and stepped beneath the overhead light, I swiped my credit card in the machine several times to no avail.
Once again, he looked at me with contempt.
“You’re swiping the wrong side,” he said.
“Right!” I replied, then swiped it again, and waited while the elderly gentleman bagger educated me on the finer points of packing produce.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“Here,” said the cashier, as he thrusted into my hand a foot long receipt with bonus coupons I’d forget to use.
With a grunt, I gave the cart one last push, then stopped at the sound of the cashier clearing his throat.
“Oh,” he said, while flashing a grin. “Have a nice day!”
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Oh my goodness! I thought I was the only one that had experienced the dreaded grocery store cashier. I sure needed a laugh this evening, which your story easily accomplished. I hope you "have a nice day!"
Your story is just like a romance movie where the main characters start on the wrong foot but eventually fall in love with each other. Maybe the bird hovering above your head is actually cupid trying to find a great aim. hehe.
Y;know, I don't remember acting like an a-hole when I worked retail all those years before I had a profession. And that was a lotta years, Sister! Even if I hated the job, I never took it out on my customers…ya should've whacked the putz with your purse! (Mine is so heavy with the kids' stuff, The Hubby's glasses, etc., that it could well incapacitate for a good amount of time)! Well played, Woman. Next time ask him how old he has to be to find a job without a nametag! 😉 Great post.
Sally Lee: Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Greatly satisfying to hear the story made you laugh.
Ryhen: I think the bird hovering overhead likely had great aim with something other than love.
Perry: Next time I'll bring the leather purse, which packs a powerful punch.
Just started reading your blog after finding you on Sally Lees blog.
I love it. You can tell a good blog when the comments are almost as good as the blog. I loved your "Hannity, Fox, barf" blog… and the comments. I'm going to keep reading. I have a lot of catching up to do.
Thank you so much, Barbara. I really appreciate everything you wrote. I'm so glad you found Think Spin. Thank you for following me.
There are some cashiers that I avoid due to their constant commentary on my purchases. And there are certain things that I buy on drugstore.com to avoid the judgement altogether.
Funny story!!
Kys, Was the cashier commentary more obnoxious than the caulker commentary?
Ryhen, I think the bird hovering overhead had really great aim with another four-letter word substance that isn't love.
Perry, next time I'll hit him with a weightier leather purse. It packs more of a punch than cloth.
I haven't been carded in years, I do miss being asked, even in jest.
Wondering if a 96-pack would be considered a double long shelf item?
J, I think a 96-Pack could probably last through a nuclear winter.
I wonder what will happen on your next visit? You seem to have an interesting experience whatever you do. This is so interesting. Have fun and enjoy the ride.
Thanks, Dr. J. You're right. Stuff always happens to me. My life is like the Theatre of the Absurd. 🙂
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