Suicidal Groceries

Suicidal Groceries

A Story by Anniebugg
"

Cashiering can be fun. Shopping, not so much.

"

It was an ordinary day, like any other. I was standing behind the cash register waiting for work to come at me, both hands crammed into my pockets, watching a woman at the customer service desk explaining her dilemma to my co-worker, Mary, who wore a look of genuine concern. The woman, who seemingly forgot to use a hand-held mirror to look at the back of her uncombed hair, was frantically waving her hands in the air. I cocked my head to the side and took a few steps closer to hear. Ahhhhh… she bought a hair dryer that never did work and now look! Her hair is just a mess. I suppressed a giggle and watched as Mary took the appliance out of the bag. The end of it was black and there was a crack running along the side of what was once a pretty blue tool. No box or packaging. No receipt. Mary wanted to know where and when she'd bought the item and how it became blackened at the end and cracked. She couldn't remember when, but it was here at this store. She'd bought it just the way it is. 

Mary smiled at the woman and said, “You bought a broken, burnt hair dryer and now you want us to give you a refund for a piece of junk? Are you kidding me?” Well that set her off. She began shouting about our store having such a bad reputation for treating its customers with disrespect and acting like they are liars. She demanded her money back! Mary asked her how much she paid for it. She was pretty sure it was $29.99. Mary told her she wasn’t going to give her any money and she should take her hair dryer to a repairman. The woman stomped her foot and clenched her teeth as her face morphed into a pair of bright red cheeks. She promised to call the top guy and tell him what she thought of his store and the people that work there. She grabbed the hair dryer out of Mary’s hand so hard that it slipped and fell to the floor with a bang where the blue, plastic appliance cracked in two and skittered along until it reached its final resting place against the wall. Motionless and silent, everyone stared at the pile of rubble. Then the woman began to laugh. She looked my way, pointed a finger at me, threw her head back and laughed louder. With each turn of her head she saw a new pair of eyes looking at her in disbelief. Mary never moved; never uttered a word. Hers was the last face the woman took in before turning and walking out the door, shaking her head and laughing over the demolished hair dryer.  


I watched as Mary gathered the things needed to clean up the black and blue fragments when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. An overflowing cart was headed right at me. I couldn’t see who or what was propelling it forward. A tiny woman peeked out from around the gigantic mound, her smile slowing revealing large teeth that all but consumed her entire face.


“You ready for this?” she quipped.


“I am if you are”.


“OK then,” she answered in a firm, but awkwardly squeaky voice, “but I don’t want you to start until I’m ready”.


That figures. Another one of those. They want to make sure I am doing everything the way they think it should be done. If they had their way, they’d jump behind the register and do it themselves. But deep down they know they could never do the superb job that I perform on a daily basis. These people are control freaks. We all know at least one. Given half a chance, they’d pin a medal on their shirt or wear some distinctive hat so everyone would know, without a doubt, that they are the Big Cheese. I shoved my hands back into my pockets and waited for the go-ahead.  She tried unsuccessfully to make her way around the heap of stuff on wheels. When that didn’t work she backed all the way up and walked around the monster. With her feet firmly planted on the ground she tugged, putting her weight into it and pulled it up to the conveyor belt.


“Ok, now,” she quipped, hands out in front, fingers splayed. I waited for the inevitable instructions that she was surely getting ready to describe to me using hand signs in the air. “I’m going to try to get these heavy things up first so I can load them back into the cart first.” Uh huh, sure. I couldn’t wait to watch her dig into the bottom and bring up that 25 pound case of plastic water bottles.


“How about this,” I smiled. “Just start putting your things up here on the belt and I’ll come ‘round there and scan those heavy things with my hand scanner. That way we’ll both save our backs the ache.”


The look on her face was one of complete confusion. I showed her the little hand held scanner every store except your corner all-nighter has for just this purpose. Still the look. Clearly she did not want any part of the hand scanning ability I so desperately wanted to perform. I could hardly believe what I saw next, but there it was; the HAND. The ‘say no more, do no more’ hand signal we’re all familiar with when someone just wants everything to stop. Big Cheese. I stood there, hands at my side, defeated. She began rummaging through her avalanche of merchandise while looking back at me every so often, suspicion clouding her gray, beady eyes. As she put her items on the belt she made sure to keep them at the far end so they wouldn’t be accidentally scanned before she was ready. She was losing the battle, her frustration growing while I continued to watch. I could have reached over and flipped the switch that stopped the moving belt. But I had a score to settle.


She harrumphed and growled, “Can you please turn this thing off!!!”


I leaned a little closer to her, “I’m sorry, what’s that?”


“Turn it off! TURN IT OFF!”


“Oh sure….,” I answered as sweetly as I could with a smile. A little flick with my finger and the belt floundered to a halt.


Gingerly, she cradled the bread and laid it at the very end of the belt, then turned to watch as several things fell to the floor with a crash. Cereal boxes, packages of pasta and hamburger helper lay bruised but unbroken across the tile. Never giving me a single glance, she scooped them up and threw them on the belt. I watched in horror as she started moving things from the front of the basket to the back, each item teetering as a new one was added. She dove head first into the basket determined to get that gigantic case of water out from under the remaining items. The frozen foods showed no cooperation; Tony’s pizzas, Birdseye veggies and Lean Cuisine slipping and sliding, gaining speed as they neared the edge of their confines. The woman frantically swiped at these frozen delights as more of them careened right out of their invisible boundaries and leapt to the floor. An apple shot strait out from that basket, flying through the air at just the right angle to catch the eye of those double doors opening them before it rolled to a gentle stop. Grapes loosened themselves from their plastic bag and plopped to the floor.  Boxes of tea, containers of coffee, jars of pickles, salsa, olives, mayonnaise, mustard and ketchup joined the fray in the mad march to suicide.


And there I stood, waiting, both hands crammed into my pockets, for the go-ahead. Well I figured I should probably help the poor woman. So I punched the intercom button and made the announcement “clean up on aisle 3”. 

© 2012 Anniebugg


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Reviews

Hi Marie,
Yes, cashiers can be very finicky people, as can customers. I usually let them bag and load the cart too, unless they're taking all day about it. Some of them don't seem to really want to be there helping me with my groceries, if you know what I mean.
Thanks for coming to visit and read. I appreciate your comments.

Posted 12 Years Ago


This is funny! I occasionally bag my own groceries or load the cart myself, but I have learned it's best to let the cashier do it.

Posted 12 Years Ago


That was hilarious. I have seen similar situations with customers all dressed for appearing in a "Walmart people" You Tube presentation ...LOL

Loved it.... Mic suggested I read your submissions.... Thank you Mic!

Posted 12 Years Ago


Anniebugg

12 Years Ago

Hey Gray Witch, thanks for reading my story. I'm glad you liked it. I'll be over to check out your w.. read more
A kernal of truth here? Seems there might be. With my hot temper, I could never do a job like that. Praises be to those who can, though. This is an outstanding bit of writing, and I enjoyed it very much.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Anniebugg

12 Years Ago

This story is based on true events. But everything is grossly exaggerated. I did spend some years as.. read more
Very well written, Enjoyed it all! Great start to my day reading this!

Posted 12 Years Ago


Anniebugg

12 Years Ago

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.
WeatherTattoo

12 Years Ago

No problem at all!
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Mic
Ha! I think I may have witnessed that! Seems there's always something going on in whatever line i choose at the checkouts.

Good tongue in cheek humor, well written, and easy read.

Well done!

Posted 12 Years Ago


Anniebugg

12 Years Ago

Thank you for reading, Mic. Your comments are much appreciated. Glad you enjoyed it.
Mic

12 Years Ago

You're most welcome!

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Added on September 30, 2012
Last Updated on October 25, 2012

Author

Anniebugg
Anniebugg

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About
I'm an old hippie with 3 grown sons and 6 grandchildren with 1 more on the way. My career was always motherhood so I never experienced the business world other than to have several menial jobs here an.. more..

Writing