GROCERY STORE NIGHTMARES
There’s a lot that bugs me about going to the grocery store. Let’s start with your arrival at the zoo. At first glance it may look like a parking lot, but it’s a death challenge to the end. It’s becomes a drag race to see which car can twirl around to the other side of the parking lot to get the one empty space. Then if you’re one of the sharks cruising for anyone coming out a space you run the risk of having a car back out over you or worse they see you sitting there and decide to not pull out but to put on a full face of makeup or have a three way conference call.
Next it’s the high assed prices that remind me I am middle class and therefore can only afford one bag of food. Here you have several options. You can either (A) drive around town looking for all the bargains and end up gas poor and tired or (B) Pay the ransom and move on. Then it’s the cartons stocked in the middle of the aisle blocking your path. So you think coupons are designed to help you with your grocery budget? Dream on Dreamer. You can either buy 5 of an item that you hardly use or take the time to cut out a dime coupon for one item
But my favorite torture is the check- out line. Let me share with you some of my pain. First, there’s the people who stand there waiting and waiting. Then their appointed time arrives and they stand there patiently as the cashier scans each item finally arriving at the magical total. And then you know what happens? The shopper whose mind has been on a day journey, now returns to reality with the rest of us and starts fishing for their plastic card or start to write a check!! Did they not know they had to pay for their groceries or perhaps they thought they were lucky# whatever and had won a million dollars-worth of groceries for a year?
My other issue is the credit card machine. Why can’t there be one standard machine used at all places. Some cards slide the left, while others slide on the right. Some are stuck into a slot. Then there’s the privacy wing bats attached to the sides. Now I have to bend and squint to make sure I punch in the correct number.
Then there’s another favorite, the cashiers that just don’t give a dam. I got it. I feel their irritation at being stuck there, but why make me drown in misery with them. They give you a big bright smile with a drool “How are you today?” and immediately avert their eyes from you not waiting for the response, that’s where you lost them. They go to that invisible place that tells them the slower they are the better they are. Sometimes one of their friends go by and they have to rehash their date with the latest pimply faced stud or studette of the moment. Or they have to compliment the latest poppy colored hair color and style of their co-worker that goes by. Complete with price, who did it, where are they, how long does it last, is it 100% human hair ,clip in or sew on, and on and on.. Until you’re secretly wishing for a pair of scissors to cut everyone’s hair off.
Please say a prayer for yourself if you’re behind someone waiting a price check. There they are holding up the line for $0.25. I can see standing there for a dollar or a free item, but $0.25. Just put a fork in me and let me keep screaming until the ambulance comes. Then the bagger , if there is one there, is requested to take a leisurely stroll back to where you picked up the item to confirm who is right or who is wrong.
Well there you have it, another aggravating day at the grocery check-out line. My only salvation is that I told them to double wrap my wine.