What goes on in my Head


 

I'm in Winn-Dixie's checkout line, uncomfortably stoned, waiting to buy a box of fruitloops and a houseplant. It's the 15 items or less cash only line and there are four customers ahead of me and Winn-Dixie is packed, my watch reads 6:07. The lighting is too harsh and I'm surrounded by unfamiliar croaking voices and this is just not where I want to be right now and the cashier runs out of change and has to leave the register to go to the goddamn change department or whatever to get more. So she lurches off God I swear they must train people to walk that slow and finally she returns with a roll of pennies. That's it. The next customer waits until his items are all totalled up and BAM! whips out his checkbook and starts scribbling one out while avoiding glares from everyone in line. But no one says dick, no, 'cause no one has the balls and I'm fried and feel weird anyway but want to yell "ASSHOLE, IF YOU'RE GONNA BE A PRICK AND USE CHECKS IN THE CASH ONLY LINE THAN AT LEAST HAVE THE COURTESY TO FILL THEM OUT BEFORE YOU GET TO THE REGISTER," but no, I don't say this and just look out over the other lines but they all just seem long and difficult. I shift the fruit loops to my right hand and the plant to my left. The next guy doesn't have enough cash, so he runs over to the cash machine. It's out of order. I see him look back towards the angry line, then back at the machine. He shrugs and runs out the store. So now the cashier has to buzz her superiors and we wait. My watch reads 6:16 when the Delta-minus unit shows up to sign the receipt or something and we're off again but the next guy wants cigarettes. So the cashier, obviously the athletic type of epsilon semi-moron, ambles off to where, for no explicable reason, the cigarettes are hoarded: An isolated, obscure island of a register way in the back of the store. Approximately four minutes later she returns with the smokes and the guy says, "I asked for a hard pack." And she's off like the wind and I shift the fruit loops back to my left hand. She makes sure to take extra-long this time because, you know, it's the only real power she has so she knows how to wield it, but I'm really impatient and am grinding my teeth and some weird piggy-looking woman is standing RIGHT behind me breathing on my neck. When the cashier finally returns YAHOO her shift is over and now she rendezvous with her replacement and they engage in an elaborate, militaristic, Changing-of-the-Cashiers ritual which involves, among other things, exchanging money trays and entering secret codes into the cash register. I'm almost crying now, wondering how society has come to this, when finally it is my turn and I'm quick 'cause I have my money READY and I'm out the door almost sprinting when I realize I forgot the toilet paper.

I steal my groceries now.

 

 Mail

 Home

 Resume