Beth’s smile is missing from the aisles

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."

 

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