Friday, August 14, 2009

I Hear the 7th Circle of Hell is the Grocery Store

Going to the Grocery Store

I know that this is far from the truth but I feel like I spend a full day at Kroger every week. It only feels that long because I hate it so much. I have tried going to Kroger drunk to see if that makes it any more enjoyable, but then I just have to pee midway through and I usually buy way more than I need.

I am also the youngest person at Kroger at noon on a random Thursday. The youngest person without children, that is. And usually the bitches that do have children have a car seat in the basket and a toddler walking alongside.  And they are always blocking EVERYTHING. Especially while they let the toddler pick out what kind of cookies or cereal they want. And you say, politely, “Excuse me...” with a smile on your face and you get this aghast look like “How dare you, I have children.” And your point...

Usually at Kroger I have some form of incident and these incidents fall into categories, and I have no clue of what it is about my face that complete strangers always feel the need to tell their honest opinion:

Tattoos - It’s hot outside and I usually wear a tank top or a dress to when I do my shopping. Of course once I enter the automatic doors I start freezing my ass off. My tattoos are usually always showing.  And someone always, ALWAYS, comments on them and usually they are the people that work there. And it is the same people every time. 

I am a fan of the self checkout.  I use my own bags (you should too) and the checkers and baggers get very snippy when you hand over your bags. I do not see the issue since you can fit so much more in them than those dang plastic bags. Especially since every Kroger bagger puts no more than 3 items in each bag. It drives me insane.

I am not really sure why people always feel the need to comment on tattoos. Usually they are complimentary, but not always. 

The Self Checkout Lady, I call her Martha (not her name), is usually there. I have had to explain to her at least three times what the one on my arm is and the significance. I really hate explaining the significance of tattoos to people. But, whatever. And after I am finished explaining Martha ALWAYS says “Oh...Okay, that’s different” then she walks away. Every time. 

The next is a girl who mans the self checkout randomly.  She is about 20 and I call her Stephanie (not her name).  She has one tattoo of a flower (Guess where it is?!?!) and she tells me about it every time I see her. And her boyfriend (who I have reason to suspect is fictional) has tattoos as well. Then she asks me how many I have and what they all are and where I got them and it is exhausting. Especially when I just want to get my flour, sugar and salsa and get the fuck out of there. I usually hide from her or I go to the line that she is not in. It wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t had to answer these SAME questions every time to the same girl.

Then I got this random dude who wrangles carts that asked to touch it. He was at least 50 years old and he ran up to me as I was entering Kroger and said, “That’s a cool tattoo you’ve got there. Wow. Can I touch it?” My response, “I would rather you didn’t. It just feels like skin.” Creeeeepy. Who does that?   

Dogs - The few times that I buy dog treats are usually the times that I have too much crap to use the self checkout. Someone always comments. Usually they ask what kind of dogs I have. I tell them and every FREAKING time they turn their nose up when I say “Chihuahua.” Stella Bean is awesome and she will rip out your jugular for saying otherwise. Lay off Chihuahuas! 

So yesterday I explain to the bitch checker what sort of dogs I have and I am sitting there watching the bagger struggle with my reusable bags (why is it that every bagger has the hardest time ever putting groceries in reusable bags? It’s not rocket science. I could do it in less than a minute) I paid and got my receipt and I am waiting for all of my groceries to go in the bags, Bitch Checker says this:

BC: Do you have any children?
Me: No, just the dogs. They are my children.
BC: *eye roll* Dogs are NOT children! I don’t see how people can say that. Dogs should never be referred to as children.
Me: *bags finally ready, taking cart from slow bagger* You are right, Dogs are so much better. It’s really an insult to dogs. Toodles. 

Yeah, I said “toodles.” I am not sure what it is, but I only have these incidents at the Southaven Kroger. 

I have to start going to Shnucks.


The Mean Beene said...

WHY do the checkers and baggers HATE to bag in your own bags. At the shitty store here, when I say I have my own bags, they leave it for me to bag. WTF? It ain't my job, dammit. Whole Foods never has that attitude. And what is the deal with the conversation strikers? Shut up.

OOOO, I have an excellent idea. Start wearing your ipod. Even if it's off, people won't bother you. Or they will try to bother you and then you can just act like you can hear them (and point to your ipod). It will be hilarious!
Or your iphone, just act like you are on the phone.

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