Today I left my shopping cart in the check out line and left the grocery store. I do this about 3- or 4-times a year. OK – I’m not known for my patience – but sometimes they just push me over the edge!
Sometimes it’s a slow cashier whose lips move while she laboriously pushes the register keys. Sometimes it’s a screaming, psycho-brat who makes makes my vasectomy scars SING. Most often it’s shoppers who can’t read “Fewer Than 15-Items” – and push carts through with enough items to feed their local National Guard units.
Today it was a mild combination of all of these and I felt my blood pressure rising. I was doing my prescribed, deep-breathing, relaxation exercises when the cashier’s light started blinking. This is a visual, distress signal to some clueless, wandering manager who must try to make sense out of a register not accepting a dweeb’s card number – or debating a customer with attitude insisting she saw the store’s advertised price as 11-cents cheaper than the price rung up.
I looked at the few items in my cart, calculated their worth against me popping an aneurysm in line, and walked out the door leaving my cart behind. Maybe this isn’t the best option – but the alternatives could be much worse.
I’ve left lines before: presentationsunplugged.com