There are certain things that I can count on every time I decide to pick up a few things at the grocery store. For instance, it never fails that I'll pick the the shopping cart that has...a) a wobbly wheel
b) a wheel that is stuck
c) discarded chicken bones or a half-eaten hot dog
d) bubble gum on the handle
Today, I was lucky enough to get the stuck wheel. I didn't really notice it as I pushed the cart across the bumpy asphalt parking lot. But the instant I hit the smooth floor inside the store, the wheel seemed to immediately lock up. Yeah, I could have went out and grabbed another cart, but the odds are it would have had another defect from the list above. So, reluctantly I pushed on with my stubborn cart, leaving a rubber skid mark from the broken wheel behind.
One of the other things that really annoys me at the grocery store are the "gawkers". These are the people who stand in front of a particular item forever. For instance, I was looking for some nice steaks the other day. I usually prefer a NY Strip. So, I head over to the beef section. Right on cue, there's a woman blocking my access. Giving her a few minutes to get her ass in gear, I lurk around in front of the organ section. It's not like people are lining up to buy beef hearts and chicken gizzards, right? So, after I give her what I consider adequate time to move, I walk back over. Sure enough, she's still there. But this time she's deep into a text-message interchange. This leaves me no choice but to pull the old "excuse me while I reach across" move. Walking towards her, my eyes make contact with a ribeye directly in front of her body. I pull up within a few inches of her and then excuse myself as I reach across in front of her. This almost always causes the person to instinctively move a few feet in the opposite direction, giving me access to my coveted food item. If you ever run into a similar situation, feel free to use my tactic.
And of course, no store would be complete without the whiny kid. Sometimes, they whine about the Three Musketeers bar that Mommy won't let them open in the store. Or other times they scream because the bag boy looks like Marilyn Manson. But whatever the case may be, I will inevitably cross paths with that kid.
Why are the doors in frozen food aisle sometimes all fogged up? You can't see anything inside! One time, my face was nearly frostbit after opening up fourteen doors in search of the Moose Tracks ice cream.
And no matter what anyone tells me, the self checkout line always takes considerably longer than a line with a live cashier. But since I have a control issue where I feel the need to do everything myself, I always feel a magnetic pull towards the self-scan line. I never make it through without at least one burst of profanity.
And why does the lady in front of me feel the need to organize her purse while I'm waiting to check out? I actually saw one woman methodically organize a wad of assorted dollar bills on the counter after her transaction was completed. I've seen bank tellers who didn't put this much effort in counting out the money. Keep in mind, there were about ten irritated customers waiting for her to finish. With all the time she was taking, I really thought she was preparing to do a magic trick for the crowd!
And when I swipe my Visa card, the machine always defaults to a debit payment. Normally, I hit the "red x" and then I'm prompted to carry on with the credit transaction. But on some occasions, the "red X" cancels everything and I'm greeted with "Please remove all items from the belt!" On at least one occasion, I was so pissed that I just walked out of the store and left everything on the belt. Mess with me, will they?
Why do contractor salesmen constantly harass shoppers as they enter the store? They approach me and ask me about my windows, doors, roof, etc. When I try to tell them I'm just hear to pick up a Mountain Dew and bag of pork rinds, they continue on with their sales pitch. It annoys the hell out of me!
And lastly, at a local chain of area grocery stores, when I approach the cashier, she'll always ask, "What school?" The first time I was presented with this question, I rattled off my high school, trade school and gave a long winded explanation of why I never finished college. But after some research, I found out that these stores actually contribute a portion of their proceeds to the area schools. The shopper is given the choice of which school receives the cut from his/her sale. But I still like to have a little fun every now and then by answering the "What school" question with Ordnance Road Correctional Center. It always creates a confused look from the poor cashier......
Yeah, it's probably a good thing that Tina does most of the shopping.
kw
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