I'm not quite sure if it's because of the weather (sub-zero), the fact that I hacked into my finger with a bread knife this morning or just dealing with clueless dumb asses everywhere I go, but holy shit you guys, society is just pissing me right off.
This morning, after dropping Charlie off at the high school (because it was -13 and hell, who wouldn't want door to door service when it's that cold), I drove through the Brueggers drive thru line for a half dozen bagels. I placed my order, specifically asking for the carb bombs to be sliced, and drove to the window where I was greeted with the sight of an employee's underwear-covered ass and an incorrect total. Now, I don't give a shit how Damon or Devon or whatever the hell his name is wants to dress when he's out with friends or going to school or whatever the hell he does in his not-working-at-Brueggers time and am generally not an "Oh my god can you believe how kids dress these days!" kind of person (except in regards to how girls are dressing like whores), but seriously fucko, if you're serving food and are standing in a spot where you are in direct contact with your customers and your ass is at the customers' eye level, stop putting the belt at the bottom of your ass cheeks and PULL YOUR FUCKING PANTS UP!
After I got home, I had decided that I wasn't going to be the crabby old lady that calls the store regarding the fact that the sight of some kid's underwear was burned into my retinas, but then I reached into the bagel bag to discover that the bagels weren't sliced and half of them were rock hard. So while Zoe starting gnawing her way through a cinnamon sugar brick, I called the store with my list of grievances and it was while I was simultaneously on the phone with the manager and hacking into a bagel that the bread knife slipped. I was like "OH FUCK I JUST CUT MY FINGER WHILE SLICING THIS AWESOME BAGEL!" and the manager said "Well, slicing bagels while on the phone probably isn't a very good idea" so I said "WELL NO SHIT BUT I WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO CUT THE BAGEL IN THE FIRST PLACE IF IT HAD BEEN SLICED LIKE I ORDERED." She was silent. And promised me a dozen free bagels.
Eventually, after a lot of applying pressure, a few "Ewww!"'s from the family and about an hour, my finger finally stopped having its period and I could go about my day. So of course I did what most moms do on a freezing ass cold Tuesday: I went to Target.
Now, is it just me or is Target sucking? I don't mean "sucking to the point that I'm going to start shopping at Walmart" sucking, but it's definitely sucking. Maybe their explanation is true and the entire population of my corner of the metro area is in need of a certain type of sandwich bag or pea pod or salsa on the exact same day and that's why they happen to be out of stock, but I don't think so. And why is it that you can't walk 10 steps down any aisle without someone asking "DO YOU NEED HELP FINDING ANYTHING?" but when you actually have a legitimate question, no one in a red shirt and khakis is within shooting distance?
And here is where you may think that hell froze over because I'm about to say something positive about Walmart: When I do go in there and don't use the self-checkout line, the cashier simply scans my shit, puts 1-3 items in 42 different plastic bags, and I'm out. There's no awkward conversation, no "how is your day" or "what's with the weather huh" or "what'r you doing this weekend." I like that.
Target cashiers, on the other hand, want to know your favorite color, what you're doing for lunch, what movies you've seen and whether or not you have a good relationship with your parents. There's one Target employee in particular that if I see her, I run away from her line like she has Ebola. She bags very non-Tetris style, is a Red Card bully and surveys my purchases way too closely. Yes, chick, I am buying half a dozen jugs of diet tonic and some limes... and I'm going to go next door to purchase some delicious vodka because I'm an alcoholic, duh!
Today, Ebola Cashier was nowhere in sight, so I went to what I always seem to find: the shortest but slowest moving line. The lady standing in front of me looked capable, organized and pregnant. Did she look like she was going to give birth right there in line 7? No. Was she obviously pregnant? Yes. Should someone ever, EVER comment on the extent of how visible the pregnancy is? NEVER.
While Anonymous Cashier scanned the items, she said something that should be stricken from the English language: "Wow! It looks like you're about to pop!" I waited patiently for Pregnant Lady to say the line I've always dreamed of using in this type of situation, which is "Really? I'm actually only 9 weeks pregnant." but she simply and politely said "Oh, gosh, well, yes I'm having a baby soon."
Anonymous Cashier proceeded to ask her if it was her first or second child (second), if they knew what they were having (a boy) and what they already had at home (a girl). "Oh PERFECT!" she exclaimed. "You'll have the perfect family! So many people want one of each and are so disappointed when they find out they're having another of what they already have!" At this point, Pregnant Lady just stood there, speechless but still smiling. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open, glaring at Anonymous Cashier, because I felt sad.
First of all, she was bagging like shit and taking forever. Second, how does she know what "perfect" is? How does she know that the woman she's talking to hasn't been struggling with infertility, miscarriages or even the death of a child? I understand that she was just trying to come up with conversation topics surrounding this woman's visible life-changing event that was just around the corner, but the way she went about it was so incredibly awkward and could've been avoided if she had just said "Oh congratulations, you must be so excited."
Maybe I'm hyper sensitive to comments like hers because we have had a miscarriage (like so many other people) and we have had a baby boy die (hopefully not like so many other people) a year before Zoe was born, and so when people look at our family of two boys and a little girl and say "Oh you got your little girl, you must be so relieved you didn't have three boys" I simply say "Yes, we do have a girl" instead of what I want which is to hiss and claw at their eyes.
So, PSA to Target: please tell your employees to: 1) quit asking every single customer if they need help because some of us get asked 17 times within 8 minutes and it's kind of annoying, 2) learn how to bag stuff properly, 3) NEVER tell a pregnant customer that she looks like she's about to pop, and 4) stop sharing their opinions as to what they think is a "perfect" family.
3 comments:
I think I wrote this! Seriously. This post is the exact conversation going on inside my head (in a healthy, non-psychotic way, of course) EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. When it gets to be too much at Target, I whip out my phone and start texting my friends about what is going on ("They just put four items in 56 bags!"). Why? Because it forces me not to say something I would regret, and because it drives the cashiers NUTS when you text while checking out. Oh, and it also keeps them from having that long, inappropriate conversation as they shame me about your grocery purchase ("You must be having a party tonight or "I wish I could eat cookies but they're just too fattening"...I always wonder, though, how they'd comment if I only had a box of tampons). And BTW, and the employee I avoid is the Obama-hating, racist cashier.
I don't consider myself an unfriendly, socially inept type, but I despise, with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, idle banter with retail employees, and just about anybody I don't know, but who inquires about my weekend, asks me "is it still snowing out there?" or comments on items I'm purchasing. This is one reason I no longer bank at Wells Fargo (although there are about 100 other reasons for that). I love Target, but I am noticing outages of products I need (Coffeemate Peppermint Mocha Creamer), and an overabundance of people asking me if I'm finding what I need. I also have a cashier I avoid like the plague - and my daughter helps me avoid her line at all costs, lest I get caught up in the crazy talk.
ALSO - never enough lanes open! I usually take my few purchases to the service desk because I can't abide the wait (lengthened by the small talk going on). There, some bright bulb ALWAYS asks me if I'm purchasing today. And one of these days, I'm going to say, "No, I'm returning this bread, cheese and gallon of milk, so I can go buy them at Wal-Mart where I won't get chatted to death!"
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