A Day In The Life Of A Cashier

A feral woodland creature with big hair, all decked out in her leopard coat, walked up to the grocery store cash register pulling her shabby wheeled cart behind her. She sluggishly pulled out each of her items one by one and dropped them on the conveyer belt.
I rang in her purchases, but then she decided that she didn’t want some of them and I deleted them from her bill.
By this time it started to get busy and the lineup curved around the corner of the store. Folk’s eyes started rolling with impatience as she leisurely took coins out of her purse. I felt trapped in a Looney Tunes cartoon with granny counting pennies.
One…..two……three.
Well, it wasn’t really pennies but it felt like it.
Then Ms. Indecisive realized she didn’t have enough money so she chose to pay with debit instead. With immense difficulty, she finally pried the debit card out of her wallet using her talons. She tapped it too quickly. Two beeps!…NO!!! Holy mother of all shite that is holy. The tap didn’t work, so now she has to insert her card.
She stood there with a vacant look on her face. OH MY GOD…She can’t remember her pin number. She wasn’t just missing a screw, the whole toolbox was gone!
At that moment, I just wanted to die. I literally wanted to internally combust and explode into flame…at this point I’d even be willing to pray for the naked rapture.
At the same time customers started to line up at the opposite lottery counter. Some dick-wad wanted me to serve him immediately. He lowered his eyebrows and his mouth curled into a sneer. “Miss, can you get me some lottery tickets,” he snapped.
“Sir, you have to wait your turn. There are other people ahead of you in line,” I politely replied. “I can’t let you butt in, that wouldn’t be fair.”
His eyes grew wide as saucers and his face turned red. “Well, I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes!”
Okay, now he’s getting my dander up. The next part that is bolded I didn’t really say, however, it’s what I screamed to myself inwardly with the intensity of a nuclear bomb.
“First of all, that is not true – You ignorant piece of shit on a rope – It’s been about three minutes. Secondly, although I’d be delighted to serve you all at the same time – I’d like to serve you a brick thrown directly at your forehead – I am not an octopus. Please be patient.”
Actually, I really wished I was an octopus so that I could slap eight people at once. I have one hundred billion nerves in my body, and some people have the ability to irritate all of them.
Mr. lottery entitlement buggered off into the distance in a huff because his privilege didn’t work with me, and the slow-witted wildcat finally paid for her food and pounced off into the distance to catch her bus.