Aaah, the joys of shopping at the supermarket. The endless array of products, the fresh produce, the name brands....the headaches, the congestion, the noise...the list could go on and on. I'm beginning to believe home delivery is the way to go and here's why....
The Line Mule
Store etiquette is very simple: let the old lady go first, have your club card ready and let the 1-item person go ahead of you.
It's an unspoken yet understood rule - comparable to the ordering etiquette at In&Out. We all know the secret menu exists - just order your damn food already, and stop acting like you're on a secret mission.
When you have a full cart - wait, scratch that. When you have more than 10 items, don't go in the Express aisle. Even more important, when you have more than 10 items, let the 1-item shopper behind you go ahead of you. This especially applies when I'm holding up a hand-basket with four liters of Diet Coke and it's obviously cutting off my circulation to juggle that AND my 20lb purse. But no, Mr. I-Am-Pretending-You-Aren't-There, with your back firmly turned to me.
It's the principle of the matter, right? I'm running you over with my car.
The Useless Manager
As a fellow sufferer in the world of customer service, I am more than inclined to be sympathetic to the store cashier. However, when I am in a rotten mood, the best antidote is a polite customer. My mood is instantly lifted and I am newly motivated to make this customers day.
Not so with the cashiers at Ralph's. Even going above and beyond the realm of politeness, the ladies in red barely look at me and mutter their standard "how are you today?" with zero feeling. A mannequin encased in fiberglass has more personality.
I can take it to a degree, but when they ignore my questions and simply continue scanning my items, I get personally insulted and take it to the manager. I don't do it very often but when I do, the managers are useless. I'm 31 - they're maybe 19 and have zero idea what "caveat emptorium' means. I'll voice my concern, thank them for their time and ask that they not be too hard on the hapless cashier. They struggle to make sense of what I'm saying, mumble "oh, sure, ok, sorry about that" and go back to Twittering on their Iphone.
Honestly, it's not worth it.
"yeah....yeah....uh huh....ummm ok....yeah....yeah..." - holds up a finger to the cashier, telling her to WAIT - "uh huh....really?....yeah...yeah...ok, I should let you go. I'm in the store and the cashier lady is glaring at me....I know, right?"
We'd like nothing better than to take their cell phones and beat them over the head with it. Personally, I can think of other places to put it, but that would involve getting my hands dirty.
These tools will wander aimlessly around the store, looking in every direction but the one they're going in. Why don't they just leave? Is it really that pressing, that the entire produce section will wilt before these idiots will hang up?
The Coupon Junkie
Annoying: seeing a full basket of little items.
Really Annoying: knowing she's not paying cash or debit.
Extremely Annoying: watching her pull out the checkbook.
Beyond Annoying: seeing that checkbook stuffed with coupons.
And you just KNOW those coupons aren't in any order. Most likely, they've expired anyway. And are for items she's not even purchasing.
You and your fellow liners heave a sigh and settle in for the long haul. Even while she's watching the poor cashier shuffle crumpled coupons, she isn't preparing her checkbook. So when the hour of power arrives, it's a flustered "oh! sah-ree! my bad.." and will then begin to do what should have been done before she even entered the store.
Shoot me now.
The Paranoid Parker
Tap the break.
Tap the break.
Tap the break.
This would be appropriate behavior if you're driving a fully loaded Chevy Avalanche in a parking lot in Venice Beach.
But when you're driving a Mini Cooper in a full-sized lot, with parking spaces the size of an olympic pool, you don't have to inch out slower than a baby on delivery day. Just pull out, already, so the rest of us can pull in.
Kudos to the elderly: they only shop 1 day per week: Sunday.
Sometimes I prefer this day - like when I'm sick or on my period and am so not in the mood to be rushed.
But otherwise, I'll take a deep breath, count to 50 and try to remember that in about 30 years, I'll be moving just as slowly.
The frustration is carried out to the parking lot, where Ma and Pa get into their immaculately maintained Lincoln Towncar and very, very, veeerrrrry sloooooooooowly drive away.
And it's ok, because as frustrating as that can be, it's nothing compared to the ass-clown coming up.
Seriously, this isn't the Indy 500.
Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Fake Street Racer with the souped up Mitsubishi Lancer. And you, with the tricked out Cadillac Escalade. And you, 90lb woman in a Ford F-350, too busy on your phone to watch where your big ass is backing in to.
The whole tires squealing, dust-inducing, eye-rolling shenanigans of pealing out of a parking lot died in high school. No one cares anymore - we're GROCERY SHOPPING, not hanging out at a drive-in.
Get a life and pray your insurance is as good as mine.
The Aisle Slug
Looking at everything and buying nothing. Go to a store enough times and you'll have the layout memorized.
The cereal aisle hasn't moved since yesterday. The produce may have sprouted feet but it's still in the same place.
There are people behind you, WAITING FOR YOU TO MOVE. But you're too busy gazing in awe at the pretty labels and colorful packaging around you.
Unless you're on acid, that type of environment just isn't stimulating to most people.