Once again, Valentine's Day lurks around the corner, snickering evilly, knowing that I have failed to come up with any grand romantic gesture to prove my love and pass The Test. Fortunately, My Lovely Bride grades on a curve (or claims to do); but I still like to do something, usually involving roses.
So it was that I ventured out this morning in the wind and freezing fog to Kroger. I was pleased with the timing of my trip, as the level of insanity in the aisles was relatively low. No screaming children. No elderly person ramming me with her Hoveround®. No thuggish individual throwing elbows next to the flower displays. One unsupervised sprog running in circles in the middle of the card section, but I was able to successfully reroute and reach my goal without mishap.
I found what I was after without much deliberation, and as I had only a few items I headed for one of the self-checkout stations. As I started to wave my bar coded flowers across the scanner, a diminutive but quite enthusiastic Indian gentleman appeared in a small puff of smoke and tugged the bethorned stems from my grasp.
"Hey…" I began.
Undeterred, he had my stuff scanned and bagged in the blink of an eye – and probably would have swiped my credit card for me, if I had let him. Next thing I knew, I was half way across the parking lot to my car. That's when I discovered that my genie hadn't put everything in the bag I was carrying.
I dashed back inside and was relieved to find the rest of my stuff still sitting at the check-out. No one tackled me as I picked it up the bag and headed for the door. Mission accomplished.
Next time, I think I'll just go through one of the full-service lanes, where the employees are less helpful.
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3 comments:
Hey, you're back! Briefly, like a groundhog sticking its snout out of the burrow only to withdraw once again and slumber away the remaining weeks of winter.
I don't enjoy self-checkout lanes - around here it's like trying to find teeth in a hen's beak if you need help for any reason.
Usually, I'm with you. I have little patience with people who don't know what they're doing, and when it comes to self-checkout lanes I'm usually one of them. At the grocery, there's just too much stimulus: language choice, method of payment (and sub-choice of debit or credit... it's on the magnetic strip, for Pete's sake!), scan your bonus card, find where the receipt got spat out. I usually don't bother, unless it's Home Depot, where I already know the drill.
But this time, I thought I'd give it a go, since the crowd was light and I wouldn't be holding anyone up. Perfect time to figure things out for future reference. And now, thanks to the genie, I still haven't quite got it sorted.
On another note, I was surprised to find anyone still paying attention. My job went through some pretty radical changes a couple years ago. No slack time and a completely exposed cubicle don't make for a good environment for sneaking in blog posts during the day - and also leave me with little time to notice all the weird little snippets of daily life I used to write about. These days, I mostly fire off quickie two-liners on Facebook.
Those self-service lanes only work when there is no one behind you and you aren't in a hurry. Otherwise, I'm certain they are the devil's handiwork.
PS. Turtle is worth braving even the worst checkout lane, but I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir. :)
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