Beth
Boscardin
"Can you help me find
something in a red box?"
"Where's your hair
dresser?"
"Aren't you too short
to work here?"
"Here's my list. Go get
my stuff."
"You were in the
parking lot. Where did I park?"
"What's Famous Dave's
special today?"
At Marian, we have our share
of grossities: burping, screaming, unbuttoning our skirts, and occasional
disorganization, but it's utopia compared to ... dundundun...the real world.
After school some days and
on most weekends, I spend my time in this world of Albertsons where I
frequently get asked some absurd questions.
As I'm walking in, I stop to
say "hi" to the two or three employees outside smoking. I'm pretty
sure they're employed to watch the parking lot, as that is where they usually
hang out. I've actually seen a few of them behind the deli counter
occasionally.
I take my post at the end of
the nearest check stand and begin the endless hours of sacking.
"Paper or
plastic?"
"Paper in
plastic," comes the reply. I was a bit boggled with this one at first, but
there's this nifty little way I can slide the paper bag into the plastic; this
way the customer gets two bags instead of one. What a rip. Rule number one:
It's paper or plastic, not both.
Suddenly I hear the next
cashier screaming at me, "Carry out! Carry out right now!"
"Errrr," I groan
realizing it's just two bags of bread. Rule number two: You don't need carry
out for bread...ever. If you can carry it up to the counter, you can carry it
to your car.
"How are you doing
today?" I query, hoping she'll at least give me some funny gossip or any
entertainment.
"Well, I just got out
of a colonoscopy. It still feels kinda weird. Have you ever had one? No, well
here's what happens..."
Rule number three: NO one
wants to hear the particulars of your colonoscopy, or any other health
problems, for that matter. Pregnancies included.
After hellish eternity, we
reach her car; I look around exasperatedly noticing the carts at the end of the
parking lot, uphill from the store. Apparently, it's cool to push the carts to
the top and put rocks under the wheels. Rule number four: Cart corrals are
there for a reason. Use them. Don't park in them. This applies to you
motorcyclists as well.
Pushing eight carts in, I
come up to the main roadway in front of the store and start crossing.
"Honk. Honk. Honk. Vroom!" A Z-3 speeds by, barely missing the carts.
Rule number five: I am a pedestrian, and pedestrians have the right of
way...you don't want to hit me.
When you go to your local
grocery store, before piling $300 worth of groceries in a cart and letting the
cashier ring them up, make sure you can pay for them.
Having your cash or credit
card with you is a really good idea. When it's at home it really can't help
you.
For those of you who do
bring the cash, try to clean out your trunk a bit. It's really disheartening
when you open your Econoline 15-person van, and it's completely full of junk.
Clean out your pick-up trucks once in a while. Once a decade would be nice.
The last and most important
rule: Smoking is bad, but if you insist, have compassion. There are an enormous
number of cigarette brands. Don't yell at me from the check stand. I promise, I
will find them, eventually.
I'll leave you with a few
insights:
"What's inside this
'red box' you speak of?"
"Albertsons does not
have a hairdresser, but I'll show you where the scissors are."
"Actually, I happen to
be a midget and belong to a tribe currently living on the east edge of
Iceland."
"We're self-serve. I'll
get you a motor cart if you promise not to crash into any displays like the
last lady did."
"Oh, are you the one
who almost ran me over...twice?"
"Famous Dave and I lost
touch after a fight involving cheese, potatoes and floss."