The Rantings of a Cashier

Hello, I’m the Grocery Whisperer. How may I be the brunt of your life’s failures and shortcomings today?

Here’s some things that make me want to kick you in the shin.

What really peeves me is when you discard your shopping cart in front of me and block all the other customers. Seriously, do I look like your buggy maid? Don’t be lazy. Show some class and put things away after yourself. How about…I’ll show up at your place of employment and throw around a few staplers. Then I’ll photocopy my fairly large, but firm bum and gently cascade one hundred copies onto the office floor. You go ahead and pick it up though, because it’s your job and the customer/client is always right.

Another delightful experience is when you leave food behind in the red grocery basket that you decide you don’t want. Hey, I’m not going to chow off your arm like a hungry bear zombie because you changed your mind about the chunky peanut butter. Seriously, hand it to me. It saves me from rolling my eyes when I discover it. Too much of that strains them and I don’t want to end up looking like Marty Feldman.

Must you talk on your cell phone when I’m asking you how you’d like to pay?

YOU.KEEP.DOING.IT

I’d love to take your phone and smash it to bits on the counter with a six pack of Orange Crush. Then I’ll chug the frothy brew like an open keg at a frat party while you rant about your phone being ruined. Oh, so now I have your attention and you want to talk? Perhaps you don’t realize what a rude and ignorant piece of smelly armpit tuft you are.

When something won’t ring in, quit saying it must be free. Like, I’ve never heard that one before. You know what else is free? My scanning gun’s laser in your eyeball.

You forgot your wallet in the car? OMG, check your pockets before you cash out, it’s not that hard. Look, I’m on express. The line gets as backed up as a starving rhinoceros pigging out on bananas and cheese. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t cut it because now I have to ring everything through faster than a high-strung Speedy Gonzalez on steroids, and everyone else in line is angry as a smashed hornet’s nest because they had to wait for you.

You stroll in to purchase items two minutes before the store closes. Seriously, are you going to be that person? Some folks are as smart as a box of rocks. No, no, be completely selfish and shop. I’ve only been working for thirteen hours straight with no break, ready to drop on the floor like a fly that just got her head smashed in by a paralysing Raid can, but you go ahead and fill up your cart with all your low fat, gluten free foods. I’ll just wait another fifteen minutes past closing for you…and bleed.

Oh, you’ve got a bad flu, too? Well, have a cough all over the counter before you leave. Have a good sneeze on the money before you hand it to me as well. I wanted the bubonic plague. Thank God you came in. Feel better soon.

I

Pet Peeves

Yeah, I have some pet peeves. I like to consider myself a tolerant person, but I’m sorry to say some things just irk the hell out of me.

The rudest lunkheads on the planet are people who can’t seem to get off their friggin’ cell phone when they are in the grocery check out line. I mean, come on! What is so damn important that you can’t say…”Hey girl, I’ll call you right back.” Don’t get me wrong folks, I’m not a violent person. However, when customers pull that ill-mannered shit and ignore me when I’m trying to ask them how they want to pay for their carcinogenic, processed, artery clogging slop, I just want to snatch the phone out of their hand and throw it forcefully against the wall, smashing it into oblivion. It amazes me how many people do this and they are completely unaware of how obnoxious they are.
Another thing that really exasperates me is when stupid dipshits are driving and don’t signal when they are going to turn. Seriously, it’s not rocket science. Show me which way you’re going so that I don’t accidentally ram my giant boat of a vehicle into the side of your little eco-car, killing you and your seven children. These are the same dolts that drive slower than a pack of snails going through peanut butter in the left passing lane as well. That’s why speed limits are set. I have to get to work, I actually have a job I have to get to. I don’t have all day. Step on it grandpa, or get in the right hand lane with the rest of your prehistoric, geriatric herd.
The worst peeve for me personally, is when inconsiderate folks bathe in perfume and I’m forced to breathe it in because they come to my till. Seriously, why does one have to wear so much? Have they never heard of the expression, less is more? I have severe allergies to that chemical torment. Whenever they come around me my throat closes up and I sneeze like a combusting, epileptic snuffleupagus. It’s not pretty.