2/16: Getting (Sorta) Punked At The Checkout Aisle
8:15 p.m.
• So the better half and I had a bit of a disagreement today. Of course it was serious. Was it over money or family planning? Of course not. We were at Kohl’s going through the clearance racks, and after picking out a pair of pants for 80 percent off retail price and several “spa” things that chicks like that were marked 90 percent off (early Christmas presents – good job, honey), we went to a register to check out. The first casher told us that she was closed, even though she was waiting on another customer. Oh shit, did I miss the “closed” sign. Well, where the hell is it? There? You can’t even see the damn thing. Oh well, not a big deal. I just pride myself in seeing if a register is open before walking up to it. Hell, in baseball you’re an All-Star if you only get out seven of nine plate appearances.
Then we went to the second register. Oh Christ, this guy has about 20 kiddie outfits and the casher doesn’t know how to ring the discounts up. Oh well, there’s no other cashier around so I just have to bide my time. At least when this happens at the grocery store I have the tabloids to keep me occupied. In fact, this past week while waiting for someone to figure out how to self-checkout, I picked up “Star” (I think) and read about how Paris Hilton got kicked off a stage by 50 Cent during some Super Bowl party. The photo alone more than made up for my time waiting. I’ll tell you what though, I’m now realizing how much the Weekly World News meant to me because now most of the magazines by the grocery store registers are aimed at either cooking enthusiasts or teenyboppers. (God only knows what will happen to me if I pick up the latter magazine whose cover teases us with 10 ways to get that cute guy to notice you in math class.) Yeah, there’s the Enquirer or Star, but I hate thumbing through those issues because people might actually think I take that shit seriously. At least when you had Batboy or a public figure next to a UFO landing, it was presumed that this checkout read-through was not meant to be taken seriously.
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What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
So I was zoning out at this register when someone said the common, “I can help whoever is next in line over here.” Now my policy when it comes to this situation is that if I’m next in the current I just bide my time. I already invested a small chunk of my life standing in this aisle so I might as well follow it through much like someone endures a shitty book or movie. Then there’s the other speed factor: by the time you get your stuff and move over, that “open” register will be occupied. Of course, the people standing behind me in line were telling me to go there and Mrs. kkk grabbed her spa shit and walked over. There was no going back now. What a surprise, there was someone already at the register and she had even MORE shit to scan than the person I was originally standing behind. Well at least the people who encouraged me to change lanes followed and were stuck, too. Fuckers. It’s just like those motorists who give you the “wave” to go ahead at an intersection even though they have the right of way. JUST GO ALREADY! It’s situations like this when an accident occurs. You may have all the best intentions in the world, but you are not controlling the flow of traffic in other lanes. I have the Stop sign, you have the right of way: I’ll wait an extra minute because I know if I pull out in front of you there will be a vehicle speeding in the lane next to you not knowing of my presence because you’re blocking his view.
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What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
Well, there’s not much more to say. The person who I was originally behind was out the door while I was waiting for the new person in front of me in the new aisle to get her shit and go. I really wasn’t all that annoyed, but one thing that does get me a bit is that when you are in front of someone that takes 5-10 minutes to get a transaction processed it only takes your purchase about 20 seconds. It’s like chipping in for a prostitute, waiting an hour for the guy in front of you to finish his thing and then blowing your load after four thrusts. (Not like that’s ever happened to me before … ohhhh no. Four strokes? Not me.)
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What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
As we were walking to the car, Mrs. kkk was pissed because that lady we were in front of at the newly opened register went ahead of us because we were “next in line.” I disagreed because when it comes to open registers it’s survival of the fittest. We then drove home.
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I just typed 860+ words on my wait at a checkout aisle and I didn’t get into a fight with a customer, cashier or Mrs. kkk. The hell? Oh well, at least it wasn’t me who had to read through all this. Well I want to leave my adoring readers happy. Hey Ho! Here we go.
Yeah, I know it’s not the “Blitzkrieg Bop,” but I always liked “Judy is a Punk” better, and it’s from 1974. Guess there wasn’t enough in the petty cash account for everyone to have leather jackets (or shirts for that matter).
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