Friday, September 7

Why Are We In Iraq? Part 627 in a Series.

I HAD to rush in to the grocery this afternoon. I generally try to avoid the quote Express end quote Line, but there was no choice this time, and as a result I was, predictably, stuck two persons behind the woman who read her receipt all the way to the exit, spun around, and came back to announce she'd been overcharged. Which, predictably, she hadn't, and which, predictably, takes four times as long to establish than if she had.

This did nothing to ameliorate the high viscosity service in the quote Express end quote Line due to its being manned by Gabby (not her real name, but definitely her real description), who mistakes making random comments about your selections for "personality", which, evidentally, the store manager has urged her to both acquire and share. This took the form in my own case of the following exchange:

Gabby (scanning my twofer pack of ribeyes): These'd be great on the grill!

Me (inaudibly): I'm so glad you mentioned that. I was gonna take 'em home and boil 'em for a couple hours.

Anyway, the delay provided enough time for two twenty-something Jeopardy! contestants to turn up, each towing a case of warm Bud. After a brief period spent determining which character Sacha Baron Cohen had played in Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby, ("I'm pretty sure he was the French guy.") inspired by the $8.99 Borat DVD hanging on the rack, the talk turned to the possible life-threatening results of consuming all that Bud in a sitting.

"You could go out and get shot in the woods."

"Yeah, especially if you went hunting with that Dave Cheney guy."

11 comments:

Heydave said...

The Parade makes its way all around town!

Uh, dude.

Katherine Williams said...

A "Helpful Hints from Readers" column on avoiding stress suggested one choose the LONGEST line at the supermarket, and just browse the magazines & newspapers. I tried that, and guess what! It acually works. Only problem, I bought a copy of Oprah's magazine, and once, a tabloid newspaper. The newspaper was quite enlightening!

Julia said...

Perhaps it's the public transportation commute, but I am _never_ without a book. Ever.

It also frustrates The Only Person In the Situation Who Has Better Things To Do Than Stand On Line, who is, don't you find?, always right in front of you on line when they can't make eye contact as an entree to telling you all about it.

D. Sidhe said...

Absolutely with julia. Carry a book, pretend you haven't a care in the world. This irritates the hell out of everybody around you in so many ways. Well, okay, that wasn't what julia was getting at. But still...

By my partner's reckoning, we have a seventy percent chance of having the person who's checking us out say, "Oh, Tab? I didn't know they still sold that!" each time we go into a store.

R. V. Dump said...

In my experience, the best stategy when plotting the completion of the retail experience is to count heads in line. Sure, that one shopper with a basketful seems more daunting but it is the human interface that consumes more time.
This has become even more crucial with the wasting and eventual passing of The Weekly World News. But it is fun to grab Cosmo and flip to the how to have better sex articles, if only to imagine what the impediment in front of you might ne thinking.

Lemmy Caution said...

Yeah, never pick the shortest line; one always expects it to be the quickest, so it's that much more frustrating when you find yourself stuck behind some hard-of-hearing old biddy arguing with the cashier about the random mix of food stamps, unrolled change, and out-of-date coupons she's trying to buy her two dozen tins of cat food with.

Anonymous said...

Here's a game: count the women's magazines with captions on the cover such as "Lose 20 Pounds in 2 Months!" right next to a cake.

--Oscar

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Julia said...

Actually, d, that was what I was getting at.

I always think that civilized behavior requires a really astonishing amount of passive aggression to really work.

pookapooka said...

Formerly, I just choose a line, never look at another one, and tailgate the poor befuddled sap in front of me. Works like a charm. At least, in the sense that I'm "actively" passing the time. But then, ever since those few silly harassment incidents I've been forced to participate over...

Now I only shop for the few items I really can't get anywhere else than the local SlowWay at 3 AM. And when the zombie in the parking lot asks me for a dsollar, i ask him for 5.

Chris Vosburg said...

One of those magazines featured prominently on its front cover the blurb "What He Really Wants In Bed And How To Give It To Him", and I was briefly tempted to pull it from the rack and ask the girl behind me (in that offhand "fancy a drink?" tone of voice), "so, can I get you a magazine?"

Sorry, it can't be helped.