As I attempted to enter the door, I noticed that it was locked. A person inside the door pointed to the other entrance and mouthed some unintelligible instructions. I immediately wished that Governor Hogan's animated sign language guy was here to interpret it for me. But nonetheless, I followed the direction of the guy's finger and moved towards the other entrance.
As I half-limped across the front of the parking lot (yes, my broken toe is still a bit tender), I saw a middle-aged woman inspecting a shopping cart. She looked at it from a few different angles and then took a cloth out of her purse and wiped down the handle. Figuring that I would sanitize my hands after shopping, I bypassed the personal inspection and wipe-down of my cart. I then wrestled the cart from the other carts and headed inside. Of course, I happened to get a cart with a wobbly wheel. Why does this always happen to me?
As I approached the first aisle, I noticed that there were arrows. Yes, in case you didn't know, the aisles in most of the stores are now one way. So, as I roll my cart about three-quarters of the way down the first aisle, I realized that I forgot to pick up a can of coffee. This presented a bit of a dilemma....Do I break the rules and head back to the coffee shelf in the work direction? Or do I do the right thing and exit the aisle and re-enter it? Can you believe that simple things like shopping for coffee can now be complicated? Nonetheless, I decided to buck the system and backtrack in the wrong direction towards the coffee shelf. No one needs to know this, ok? Can we agree on "what happens in the grocery store, stays in the grocery store"?
As I made my way around the rest of the store, I couldn't help but check out the status of the paper goods aisle. Like a kid peeking down the stairs in hopes of catching a glimpse of Santa Claus, I craned my neck to look down the aisle. As expected, with the exception of one large pack of Bounty paper towels, the shelves were bare. Now, I can almost understand the initial panic and subsequent run on toilet paper. But we're now two months into this pandemic lock-down situation. Why are people still hoarding toilet paper?
As I finished up my shopping and headed toward the check-out line, I noticed there was only one "live" cashier. Everything else was a self check-out station. Don't you think you should get a discount if you're doing the self check-out? If the store is paying a cashier to do this, why would they expect me to do it gratis? Anyway, because the "live" line is full, I go the charity route and scan/bag my own groceries. I always feel the urge to take a "free" item. like a pack of Tic-Tacs, for compensation. But my conscience always gets the best of me and I take the high road instead.
After all of my items are scanned, I go to swipe my credit card. I notice that the credit card machine is covered in thin plastic. On my first attempt to swipe, I catch a piece the plastic and my card gets semi-jammed in the machine. Giving it a firm pull, I tear a half of the plastic off. Now, the plastic is flapping in the wind, leaving most of the keypad exposed. I'm not even sure of it's purpose anyway. I mean, unless you are going to replace the plastic after each shopper touches it, what's the the point?
As I made my way back to my car, I had a brief chat with a lady next to me who was loading up her groceries. We both agreed that these are some crazy times. And we both looked forward to the days when we can, once again, go shopping maskless down bidirectional lanes.....
kw
As I made my way around the rest of the store, I couldn't help but check out the status of the paper goods aisle. Like a kid peeking down the stairs in hopes of catching a glimpse of Santa Claus, I craned my neck to look down the aisle. As expected, with the exception of one large pack of Bounty paper towels, the shelves were bare. Now, I can almost understand the initial panic and subsequent run on toilet paper. But we're now two months into this pandemic lock-down situation. Why are people still hoarding toilet paper?
As I finished up my shopping and headed toward the check-out line, I noticed there was only one "live" cashier. Everything else was a self check-out station. Don't you think you should get a discount if you're doing the self check-out? If the store is paying a cashier to do this, why would they expect me to do it gratis? Anyway, because the "live" line is full, I go the charity route and scan/bag my own groceries. I always feel the urge to take a "free" item. like a pack of Tic-Tacs, for compensation. But my conscience always gets the best of me and I take the high road instead.
After all of my items are scanned, I go to swipe my credit card. I notice that the credit card machine is covered in thin plastic. On my first attempt to swipe, I catch a piece the plastic and my card gets semi-jammed in the machine. Giving it a firm pull, I tear a half of the plastic off. Now, the plastic is flapping in the wind, leaving most of the keypad exposed. I'm not even sure of it's purpose anyway. I mean, unless you are going to replace the plastic after each shopper touches it, what's the the point?
As I made my way back to my car, I had a brief chat with a lady next to me who was loading up her groceries. We both agreed that these are some crazy times. And we both looked forward to the days when we can, once again, go shopping maskless down bidirectional lanes.....
kw
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