August 29, 2008
As you can see by the look on my face and I’ve marked it out for you, that photo is representative of how I came off towards the checkout lady at the grocery store today. Why? Because the freaks love me. And I have to pretend to love them back.
I only had to pick up a few things and thought, that I’d be out of there in no time at all. Of course I’m delusional, because I get the moronic cashiers. I should know that by now. I get the ones that make no sense and have less than ZERO common sense.
I put all of my items up on the counter, cashier is scanning them, the prices are coming up on the cash register/computer and things are sailing along just dandy. Of course there’s got to be a glitch.
Cashier scans a bag of sugar – just regular white, granulated sugar. The kind that makes your ass fat. It’s $1.99 for the small bag, which is what I had. It’s also labeled as SUGAR. It rings up as $1.99. Cashier says to me, “what is this?”
“It’s sugar.” I continue to bag my stuff.
“But what is it?”
“It’s white sugar.” I can feel that tingling sensation – and no, not a good tingling sensation. The sensation that makes my arms get twitchy, because I want to take a swing at her. Please, just let me be on my way.
“Ya, but what is it?”
“It’s sugar. White. White sugar.” I’m surprised my eyeballs didn’t fall out of my head because I was rolling them SO.HARD.
“White sugar?”
“Yes, white sugar. Is there a problem? I saw it ring up as $1.99 and that’s the price that’s marked on the shelf.”
“No problem, I just don’t know what catagory to put it under?”
“Catagory? What do you mean? I saw it ring up correctly.”
“Ya, but I don’t know if I should put it under, you know, fruits or candy or grocery.”
“Isn’t that already determined if it rings up correctly? And um, ya it’s not a fruit.” Whaaaaaat?
“You’re probably right.”
“Ya, probably.” OH.MY.GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.
“Do you have anything under your cart? I’m required to ask you.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ya.”
“Sorry, but I have to ask because sometimes people forget things on the bottom of their cart and then they walk out without paying and that’s basically stealing.”
“Basically.”
“So you said ‘no’ right?”
“No.”
“No you didn’t say no, or no you didn’t say yes?”
“Ya.” Oh revenge is Swaaaa – eeeeeet.
“No you don’t have anything under your cart or you do?”
“Right.”
She gave up then. She stood on her tip toes to glance at my cart and must have been satisfied with the results because she didn’t ask me again.
Ya, don’t mess with the master, betch. I’ll cut you.
