Pet Peeve

Okay… I know I can be cranky… and downright difficult… but… some of my pet peeves are definitely legitimate… at least I think so…

I hate the grocery store… period… while I know that the invention of the almighty supermarket has made our lives infinitely easier… and we do not have to go to a number of stores to get everything we need like our great grandmothers had to… I still hate it…

As you might have guessed I just returned from one of my quick little pleasure excursions (okay… I know that was a tad sarcastic…I’ll try to behave more from now on).

The first thing I hate about the grocery store is the deli counter. The clerks … (some have been there since the flood and must have canasta buddies with Noah’s wife)… are definitely set in their ways… and if you want rare roast beef… they do not want to slice it and will do everything to convince you that you do not need roast beef. Be prepared for the 20 questions… do I know how rare it is?… yes I do… it’s bloody you know?… yes ..I know…. am I sure?… yes I’m sure… well it’s going to bleed all over the slicer…. dead silence follows as if I am going to say… “oh in that case I’ll take bologna”…she finally realizes she is going to have to slice it….then the loud sigh as she removes the hunk-a-cow from the case… I was tempted to moo.

As she’s slicing it, she wrinkles her face up like a raisinette as if to say what she is doing is totally gross and she will up-chuck at any moment… looking over to be sure I notice… she asks… you like this???.... I’m tempted to say… “No… I spend 10 bucks a pound on that crap so I can throw it out”…. I just nod and smile.

Our store decided to re-arrange all the aisles… so now I am lost yet again… and it’s always the last thing on the list that I can’t find… and forget trying to get help finding something… Customers are 4 deep at the Customer Service counter… and if I’m lucky enough to find someone working in one of the aisles… they will avert their eyes from me until I am practically stepping on them… then it’s a 50-50 chance they either won’t know where my item is or they will send me to the wrong place.

Now the fun really begins… the check-out line. It never fails… I always chose the wrong line… three people in front of me, the cashier has stopped… she managed to charge the poor woman 100 bucks for a head of lettuce and now needs her supervisor to correct the over-ring. After 5 minutes of waiting… that gets straightened out… great… then the next man is buying beer… he doesn’t have his ID… but he looks at least 70… you have to use your brain… something they do not teach in employee orientation… so we wait for yet another supervisor… next woman is writing a 3 dollar and change out-of-state check… you guessed it… we wait for another supervisor…
Finally I get to the cashier… I’m excited until I see that the supervisor comes over and starts counting out the cashier’s drawer…. I want to shoot myself… I just smile.

But wait… it doesn’t end there… the bagger…. The bagger is some teenage boy who apparently never grocery shopped for his mother or has any idea the price of the stuff his is cramming into the plastic bag…his mother would have killed him had he put cans on top of the eggs…. And detergent with my 10 bucks a pound mooing roast beef….All my stuff is stuffed into a bag with the cantaloupe sitting squarely on my grapes… and the tomatoes on the bottom…By the time he is done… I just wanna go home….

The parking lot… all I can say is…I just want to know one thing….why is it carts roll not toward the shit mobile with a million dents in it and the bumper tied on…but your car with only 6 payments on it…???

I just looooove going to the grocery store… maybe next time I will let Warren experience all the fun… yeah right … delusional woman….and I believe in the tooth fairy…