It’s Monday! Now that I’m working on Sundays, I don’t usually do the grocery shopping on that day. I do it on Monday, which is a teeny bit less annoying because you don’t have to deal with as many Full Families (seriously, grandma does NOT have to come to the grocery store with you) or Grocery Tourists (you will know them by the candied walnuts and quarter-wheel of expensive Brie all alone in the cart). Mondays are much easier for getting in and plowing through the list and getting the hell out.
I’m fairly relaxed about the grocery checkout. Sometimes the line is a bit long and that can get boring, but that’s why God invented Us Magazine, you see. So it’s not bad. I don’t mind waiting. Sometimes the front-end coordinator person comes over and is all “hey, why don’t you step down to lane 5?” That’s always fun, and it happened today. So I moseyed on down to the lane he indicated and it’s a “7 Items or Fewer” lane. Eh, fine. That guy was just standing there, and after all, the other guy TOLD ME to go there. So I did.
Immediately after I entered the lane and started unloading my cart, two people got in line behind me and holy shitballs, you’d think I was smacking a puppy the way they acted.
[note: these people were of the “elderly” variety of human]
The woman directly behind me said nothing, but shot me a pretty nasty look. That’s fair. I’ve done the same, and it’s all good because you know? Someone jumping on the 7 Items lane with a whole cart is kind of a dick. BUT I WAS TOLD TO GO THERE. The elderly gent behind that lady, however, decided to make with the smack talk. AND THEN HE FOLLOWED ME OUT TO MY CAR to yell at me some more.
Here’s an excerpt:
Him: You people are unbelievable.
Him: HEY. DID YOU HEAR ME?
Him: It said SEVEN ITEMS OR LESS.
Me: Um, actually, that’s seven items OR FEWER.
Him: What? What’s the difference? Can’t you count?
Me: Apparently not, but I’ve got this English grammar thing down cold.