I can remember when standing in long checkout lines happened mainly during the Christmas season. Well, I went shopping this week (at 1 PM on a Tuesday), and ended up waiting in lines so long, I began to think I might have been in a coma for a few months and it actually was December.
Target, for example, had only one register open, with an employee directing people to the “self-checkout.” I have had such disastrous results in the past when trying to use one of those dumb things (which kept yelling at me in its robotic voice whenever I goofed up), the employee ended up doing if for me anyway – so it really wasn’t a “self” checkout after all. And when I got home and looked at my receipt, I noticed I’d been charged twice for the dog biscuits.
After Target, I went to Walmart, where only two registers were open, but at least that was a slight improvement. When I finished my shopping and headed for the checkout, I noticed that the shorter line snaked all the way back into the women’s clothing department. I had no choice other than to go to the end of it – or just abandon my cart and run (which I briefly did consider).
At least I was able to look at the latest fall-fashion trends while waiting…as the chicken in my cart was busy breeding salmonella bacteria.
The line brought to mind a column I once wrote about the Concord Walmart store one Christmas season when I’d had to wait in line for over 30 minutes, not only because the store was so crowded, but also because the cashier handling my line was very elderly and scanned the items in slow motion. By the time she lifted the item, examined it, slowly turned it to the UPC code and scanned it, the cashier at the next register already had scanned and bagged an entire order.
So when I later wrote about it in one of my newspaper columns, I said something like, “By the time I finally reached the register, two of the people in line behind me fell in love, got married and had a baby.”
The manager of Walmart happened to read the article and actually emailed me, “I am NOT pleased and do NOT think this is funny! You exaggerated!”
Really? Ya think?
Anyway, as I waited in a seemingly endless line again this week, I noticed that the man directly behind me was holding only a half-gallon of ice cream…in his bare hands. I immediately felt sorry for the poor guy. I mean, not only was he a candidate for frostbitten fingers, I figured that by the time he reached the checkout, he’d be holding a half-gallon of sour cream.
“Would you like to go ahead of me?” I offered, thinking one more minute of extra waiting wouldn’t kill me.
He shook his head and said he was fine.
Meanwhile, the woman in front of me turned to say, “This is why I do my shopping only once a month now! I don’t want to go through this every week. My poor old feet can’t handle it. God, I really miss the good old days…it’s sad to think they’re never coming back.”
Anyway, back to the present and Walmart…
The line moved another inch-and-a-half, and I was able to browse through a rack of very sheer dresses…and wondered what the heck someone would wear underneath them. I also wondered if the guy behind me was dripping ice cream on them. Their patterns were so bright and busy, however, it probably wouldn’t have mattered if he added a little fudge ripple to the designs.
Finally, after what seemed like hours and I was on the verge of keeling over from dehydration, I reached the register. I was about to unload my cart onto the counter when I turned to the man behind me and asked him if he was sure he didn’t want to go ahead of me. He eyed my heaping cart and looked hesitant.
The guy behind him, whom I hadn’t seen previously, also had only one item and said, “If he won’t go ahead of you, I will!”
He then stepped out of line and moved to stand in front of me. The man with the ice cream decided to follow him.
So I ended up with two guys ahead of me instead of only one. But heck, at least I did my good deed for the day.
The only trouble is, I’d had to wait so long in line by the time my items finally were scanned, the dozen eggs in my cart actually began to hatch.
(Just want to see if I’ll get another “you exaggerated!” email from the store manager!)
# # #
Sally Breslin is an
award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for
newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several
novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science-fiction. Contact
her at: sillysally@att.net
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