A couple of nights ago I was standing in the “express” lane at the grocery store nearest my house. This is the store where I run in if I only need something basic. It is not my store of choice. Actually, I can’t afford my store of choice, but that’s another story.
One reason I dislike this store is that they don’t have U-Scan. I can’t check myself out…I have to stand in line and let the cashier do it for me. And sometimes that involves chit-chat which is one of my very least favorite passtimes.
So, I’m in the “express” lane and it’s time for the woman in front of me to pay. She digs a HUGE wallet out of her purse…you’ve seen them…the kind crammed with every piece of paper she’s ever been given. Coupons that expired six months ago. Reminders for hair appointments and doctor visits from six years ago. Receipts for clothes that she sold in her last garage sale.
She navigates through all the paper and starts pulling out credit cards and debit cards and plastic of all sorts. She shuffles through them like she’s fixing to deal us all a hand of Credit Card Rummy.
Meanwhile, I’m behind her tap tap tapping my foot. About to offer to pay for her yogurt and twinkies myself.
She evidently can’t find the card she’s looking for. She puts the wallet back in her purse and pulls out a checkbook. A checkbook! Who writes checks anymore? I write about 2 a month. Thankfully, the cashier had a pen. So she writes the check and hands it to the cashier. You know what comes next…she has to dig the wallet back out of the purse and start looking through all that plastic for her driver’s license.
I just sighed opened one of the beers in my cart and had a little happy hour right then and there.
(Well, not really, but I thought about it.)