Background: I go to WalMart as infrequently as I possibly can. I don't like WalMart. It's not because of the tempting "Puppies For Sale" sign perpetually held in the far North end of the parking lot. Nor is it the parade of women over the age of 60 in short shorts and belly shirts. I can even tolerate the unattended children riding bikes around the store and running a tire up my leg. The toothless man with the large tattoo covering his entire upper torso in a wife beater shirt who likes to come on to me is at least flattering. He gives me options if my husband ever walks out on me. No, the real problem at my closest WalMart is the checkers who take F.O.R.E.V.E.R. to scan my purchases.
On Saturday I got in "Jeff's" lane. He was animately friendly. However, this significantly slowed his job performance. By the time I got to the front of the line, I discovered why he was so slow. You see, he mistook me for someone who wanted to bond and form a close, personal relationship.
First of all, he took a personal interest in every single item in my cart and made a comment. "Aren't you a little old for crayons?" laughing too hard at his own joke. When I pretended to be intensely interested in the contents of my purse, he repeated in a louder voice, "I said, aren't you a little old for crayons?" I gave him the obligatory smile but said nothing. The problem of course, was that for everything he scanned, he had a comment. For every comment, he held my purchase hostage in midair until I acknowledged his "jokes."
"I see you're not too old for menopause, though," he mentioned, as he scanned my feminine hygiene products. He then stopped scanning to share with me the story of his mother's menopause. Awesome.
After 28 minutes from the time I first stood in line to check out (I was the third) and my purchases were, at long last, safely bagged and discussed, I ran my credit card through the machine. Naturally, he asked to see my driver's license. I handed it to him.
"I see you live on Daisy Lane. Do you know Joe Wizowski?" I shook my head. He then gave me the whole story about how he and Joe went deer hunting last October, drank too much beer, got lost in the woods and woke up the next morning laying in deer poop and vomit. Now I was even more glad I didn't know Joe Wizowski.
I quickly took my new purchases for which I had paid my soul and hurried away. "Have a nice day, Nancy!" He said.
Unsolicited Advice Column on Jeff's Social Faux Pas:
1. If you can't scan and talk at the same time - always choose to scan. My goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible.
2. Commenting on a person's purchases is like looking into a home medicine cabinet or in a woman's purse. It's off limits.
3. The purpose of looking at my driver's license is to simply verify that I am who I purport to be. When commenting on other aspects like an address, weight, hair color, and whether or not I am an organ donor, you look like a stalker.
4. The story about your mom. . . way too Freudian for me to even comment.
5. Really don't want to hear stories about you drunk with a rifle. The vomit was over the top but not the most disturbing part of my experience with you. That fact, in and of itself, is disturbing.
6. Did you really call me by my first name? I don't remember being formerly introduced. Call me old fashioned but I want to keep professional distance from you. In fact, I want to keep as much distance from you as possible.
7. Please pass this advice onto Krystal, Jenny, and Kyle. I've had similar experiences with them, as well. Except for the menopause story. That one was novel.
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What unsolicited advice would you like to give and to whom?
On Saturday I got in "Jeff's" lane. He was animately friendly. However, this significantly slowed his job performance. By the time I got to the front of the line, I discovered why he was so slow. You see, he mistook me for someone who wanted to bond and form a close, personal relationship.
First of all, he took a personal interest in every single item in my cart and made a comment. "Aren't you a little old for crayons?" laughing too hard at his own joke. When I pretended to be intensely interested in the contents of my purse, he repeated in a louder voice, "I said, aren't you a little old for crayons?" I gave him the obligatory smile but said nothing. The problem of course, was that for everything he scanned, he had a comment. For every comment, he held my purchase hostage in midair until I acknowledged his "jokes."
"I see you're not too old for menopause, though," he mentioned, as he scanned my feminine hygiene products. He then stopped scanning to share with me the story of his mother's menopause. Awesome.
After 28 minutes from the time I first stood in line to check out (I was the third) and my purchases were, at long last, safely bagged and discussed, I ran my credit card through the machine. Naturally, he asked to see my driver's license. I handed it to him.
"I see you live on Daisy Lane. Do you know Joe Wizowski?" I shook my head. He then gave me the whole story about how he and Joe went deer hunting last October, drank too much beer, got lost in the woods and woke up the next morning laying in deer poop and vomit. Now I was even more glad I didn't know Joe Wizowski.
I quickly took my new purchases for which I had paid my soul and hurried away. "Have a nice day, Nancy!" He said.
Unsolicited Advice Column on Jeff's Social Faux Pas:
1. If you can't scan and talk at the same time - always choose to scan. My goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible.
2. Commenting on a person's purchases is like looking into a home medicine cabinet or in a woman's purse. It's off limits.
3. The purpose of looking at my driver's license is to simply verify that I am who I purport to be. When commenting on other aspects like an address, weight, hair color, and whether or not I am an organ donor, you look like a stalker.
4. The story about your mom. . . way too Freudian for me to even comment.
5. Really don't want to hear stories about you drunk with a rifle. The vomit was over the top but not the most disturbing part of my experience with you. That fact, in and of itself, is disturbing.
6. Did you really call me by my first name? I don't remember being formerly introduced. Call me old fashioned but I want to keep professional distance from you. In fact, I want to keep as much distance from you as possible.
7. Please pass this advice onto Krystal, Jenny, and Kyle. I've had similar experiences with them, as well. Except for the menopause story. That one was novel.
***********************************************************************
What unsolicited advice would you like to give and to whom?
To all those who want to stike up a conversation with me...
ReplyDelete1. Saying "Are they twins?" only makes you look like an idiot.
2. You look even more like an idiot when the next thing you say is "They are identical." because if you thought they were identical (which they aren't) then why did you ask if they're twins?
3. Asking me if I'm sure won't get you a different answer.
4. Telling me about your neighbors best friends sister boyfriend's mom who has twins doesn't make me feel any more connected to you.
5.Don't proceed to say things like "well atleast you got it all over with at once" or "double trouble" or "poor thing", trust me you aren't the first to say your "witty" comment no matter how original you think it might be.
6.Be prepared for me to be rude, I don't take well to people, especially people who are only talking to me to get closer to my children...I think you're wierd and wish you would go away.
AHHHH I feel so much better now, Thanks Sister Taylor!
Sometimes I am stunned by other people's stupidity. You'd think by now that I could never be stunned- but alas, it happens.
ReplyDeleteHa :) I don't like Wal-mart either . . . and for exactly the same reasons!
ReplyDeleteLove it. ROTFL.
ReplyDeleteWhere do they get their staff?!
ReplyDeleteSimilar to the lady at my local petrol station. Just as she hands you back your card and you are starting to walk away she asks "What are you going to do today?" So many of her customers freeze and mutter a garbled response because they don't know if she really wants to know they are on their way to have their haemorhoids cauterised...
Oh how I wish I could have the nerve to think up some witty responses to use that would stir things up and make her rethink her friendly enquiries!
This was awesome. It reminds of Kristin Wiig's checkout lady from Target character on SNL. Have you seen it? H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S. I think you'll appreciate.
ReplyDeleteAhhh Walmart. When it is late at night I like to wear my daisy dukes, a tank top with no bra, and wander around the store in my slippers. Why? Because it is Walmart of course!
ReplyDeleteOh I sooo feel the Walmart thing, too many times have I wanted to pinch a young checkers head for commenting on groceries and the sharing of their soul...please!
ReplyDeleteOkay, here is one I wish people would consider BEFORE they speak.
"Are they all yours" Yes, they are. (I have 9)
"Well, then are any of them adopted?".
ARE YOU KIDDING ME, like I'm going to stand there and tell a perfect stranger which ones are adopted (if they were, they are not). What a horrible thing to ask right in front of the children!!!
And-
"You've got your hands full"..if I had a dollar for every time I'm told this while in the store I'd never have to pay for the groceries myself.
"Don't you know what causes that" to which I now reply "Yes, thats why I have so many" Usually shocks them right out of their making future comments!
Thanks for providing the opportunity to make this little rant, I feel SO refreshed after that!
*side note* I do NOT think it is horrible to be adopted. I do think because I've had foster children that it is a horrible thing to ask, because it somehow felt as if the message going to the child was "you don't belong". I hope that makes sense!
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh-I can't believe he had the nerve to discuss your girl stuff!!! WTF!!!! Who does that!? ... I guess, apparently, Jeff at Wal Mart.. but no really, who does that??? You should've joked about his missing teeth or something.
ReplyDeleteUm nice water skiing! How cool is that?
And hey-you got your blog fixed!!!! It's back to perfect! How'd you do it? Did you see Tiff's? We made a new banner last night.
Ohmyohmyohmyohmy. That is rough. The "not too old for menopause" thing actually mad me say aloud, "Oh no he didn't!" and that is totally not my style of response, but come on.
ReplyDeleteIn my younger life, weird dudes would often say,"How about a smile?" Which is just creepy. (No one seems to care whether or not I am smiling anymore._
Oh my heck! This is SOOOOO funny! We had to stop going to a certain local restaurant because the head waiter/manager felt a "connection" with us! The night he actually sat down at our table and chatted with us as we ate pushed us over the edge!!!
ReplyDelete