December 12, 2003

  • I just went shopping at the supermarket—at midnight—and left the groceries sitting in the store.  Deliberately.


    Seems that they closed all the registers but one right at a time when a nearly cashless couple with a handful of food stamps was postured at the remaining lone checkout with 1) a hell-load of items, 2) a discount coupon that wouldn’t scan and couldn’t be cleared except by ‘Customer Service’ which wasn’t opening till dawn, 3) unmarked merchandise requiring a price check, and 4) a total sum value of items scanned in excess of the amount of food coupons they had in hand.
    .


    I stood three deep in that line with three others behind me witnessing that stalled shopping spree.  And, after staying patient for 5 minutes without any visible sign of progress, I shook my head and remarked, softly yet audibly, “Fucking people.”


    The store management, also witnessing the checkup line backup, opened a second register after some internecine who’s-job-is-it bickering.  While I could have bolted to the newly opening ‘Register 5’ to be first in line, I considerately allowed the three shoppers behind me to move over first.


    So there were then four shoppers in Line 5 (myself at the end of the line) while the coupon people still litigated in the other aisle along with one other shopper, the one previously ahead of me and still directly behind the coupon people, who decided to stay pat.


    My aisle cleared quickly with the three shoppers ahead of me (all with just a few items) processing through at comparatively breakneck speed.  So it then came down to just me left and that’s when the cashier said: “The till has moved.  See.  The till has moved over to Aisle 10.  They’ll take you over there. The till has moved.”  The cashier in referring to ‘Aisle 10’ was attempting to herd me over to yet another register that had just, just opened.


    No forewarning.  No “Register Closed” sign.  No indication whatsoever that the “till” was about to migrate.  I actually got the immediate impression from all the confusion that the store must have had a computer system policy that allowed only two registers max to be open simultaneously after midnight.  So when the Register 10 ( "over there") opened to assist in the ongoing backlog, Register 5, where I was, automatically shutdown.


    But I had already unloaded half my groceries from the cart.  I looked away in disgust from the Register 5 retired-cashier-now-traffic-cop.  And responded; “Fuck your shit.”   And walked.


    I know it was rude, but don’t ever herd me, dammit.


    Besides, the food was already dead.

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