Chore Girl Thinks Ahead The forecast said a big storm was coming Sunday night into Monday. I had my niece's shower on Sunday, superseding my routine Sunday food shopping. So I announced to hubby, Paul "I will be doing the food shopping Saturday night early, get the list ready" -the list is his chore. This provided a tricky scenario as we go to the health club separately on Saturday, and Paul does his food shopping for his special Saturday meal. The cars were moving in and out of the driveway all afternoon. I arrive at King Kullen and immediately notice the store is quiet, no hustling around going on, the aisles are negotiable. All goes well, until checkout. I get on line and at that moment a container of yogurt falls from the runway to the ground. Big plop. This is an item belonging to the woman front of me- and she seems very sad about it. Guess this was going to be important on her menu.
She asks the cashier to call to have it cleaned but the cashier is embroiled in a heavy dispute with the woman in front of her about what is on sale. Backup has been called by the cashier-I recognize this woman, she knows her stuff-the arguing customer does not have a chance. So I size up my plight- I have two women in front of me on line, the first has dug her heels in about her items being on sale and the second woman is upset about the blob she has sent to the floor as well as its loss in her menu. Should I go to another line? No, never do that. The "Yogurt plop" woman is wearing high heels, so she is off balance and getting fidgety. She says. " I am getting another yogurt". I say "Good idea". She leaves, the fighting continues up front. Then the arguing customer gets the ultimate revenge. "Okay, take them off the bill" On no, this requires yet another King Kullen employee to join in as he has the power of removal of items. Yogurt women returns. "What no progress !" I feel like a failure for not getting the line moving" "No" I reply and add wickedly, "She (referring to arguing woman) does not seem to realize that others are waiting". Evil Carol. That gets Yogurt woman more annoyed, as I knew it would- my revenge for her releasing feelings of failure in me.
Then it happens-the BIG manager announces that two more checkouts will open. All the people waiting in back of me run and I am now alone again naturally. My line is not moving. I make the decision. I go to the next line. Not bad, only one person in front, a woman. I see that there is no divider between her items and mine, a flag goes up in my mind-trouble ahead if I do not watch. "Well , why should I always have to be the one to watch?!" I soon hear a commotion, I am still loading my stuff on the belt. "Those are not mine, those are hers" Yikes, it has happened- my items have morphed into hers. And not just one. She ticks them off one by one, so all can hear. "The soup is not mine, the sauce is not mine, the tarts are not mine" .Oh no. Everyone now knows I have tarts. And then it happens, the Manager with the power of item removal is summoned to my line and I am the cause. I am no better than the arguing woman. I have caused "delay in line" It takes a while. My total time on line has now exceeded my total shopping time. It gets done. My items are zooming along, I am packing, back in the groove. Then the dreaded produce question "What kind of pears are these?" I answer "Red". "No" says condescending checker" He continues " I mean like type of pear for example - Bartlett or Anjou". I patiently explain that these pears are labeled "Red", nothing else. Another checker is called and a decision is made, not shared with me-(ignorant of pear title person). We finish, I am done.
Everyone seems a little on edge. But not me, I have a secret. I don't mind what happens. I am always writing a story in my head, and the more that happens the better I like it. I look at the receipt to find what title my pears were given They were rung up as pears red. Not red pears. Guess that was his revenge.
Woof, Woof
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