Mayhem In The Express Checkout Line

I have a strong distaste for shopping. So if my list is long, my style is to show up at the store with only enough time left to get what I need before it closes. That way I’m in and out of the automatic doors with a minimum of hassle and competition from fellow shoppers.

If I have to shop during peak hours, it’s usually to grab the few necessities my senior memory overlooked on previous late night forays, or to satisfy a sudden craving for something definitely unnecessary, and almost always bad for my health.

Anyway, last week I twice went to the store for such odds and ends. Both times there were long lines at the registers, so I headed for the Express Checkout Line. As in all stores, it was clearly designated by a large, clearly printed sign in English. This one stated: “Express Checkout. 12 Items Or Less. Cash Only. No Checks or Coupons.”

After double checking to make sure my cart met all requirements, I took my place in line. Glancing ahead, I noticed the cashier was scrambling to ring up a lady whose number of items far exceeded the total supposedly allowed. And, as her cart was being filled with bags, she fumbled through her purse to find a clutch of coupons she was determined to use to not only lower her tab, but to raise the furor of those around her.

Now, understand our angst. To this point she had purchased a minimum of two dozen items, at least double or triple the posted maximum. And now she was fumbling through this stack of stamp-sized coupons, asking the cashier dumb questions like, “Did I buy one of these,“ or, “Is this one OK?” She also seemed to have forgotten her glasses because, with sloth-like speed she closely squinted at each one trying to determine whether the expiration date was current or not.

In seconds, the indignation of everyone behind her became overwhelming. The next girl in line, seemingly fatigued from having tapped her fingers on two packs of gum and box of cinnamon Tic Tacs for fifteen minutes, finally called it quits. With a dirty look, she turned and threw the items back on the candy rack, then almost ran out the door like she was late for a date.

The guy behind me, who had a large bottle of Vodka in each hand, seemed ready jump over me to either smack “Madame Roadblock” in the head with them, or just begin chugging there in line while pretending he was on a date.

A last frustrated shopper who could bear it no longer, almost ran over and flattened two other customers as she angrily backed her cart out, and with considerable disgust and profanity propelled it erratically to another checkout register.

Me? Well, I just stood there trying to be “cool,” you know, civilized… displaying an uncharacteristic brand of senior patience. The whole time, however, I secretly worried that such an unjustified delay might cause the freshness date on my Whole Wheat Pita Pockets to expire before I reached the cashier.

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A day later, thinking my travail for the week was over, I again ventured out to the store. This time it was for something to put in those Whole Wheat Pita Pockets I had previously bought. (Obviously, another memory lapse.) Once again, the Express Checkout Lane was embroiled in controversy when I arrived. This time, however, the Line Lummox was a man.

There he stood, not the least bit embarrassed. In front of him were enough items to feed, clean, and wipe the rear ends of an entire village. And to compound his effrontery to those he was making wait, he sheepishly said he had to write a check because, DUH… he had “left all his cash in his other pants,” (along with his brain). Again, those languishing in line came close to rioting before the ink on his check was dry. I really couldn’t believe it. How could this have happened to me twice in one week?

I guess there could be many reasons. Perhaps the American Educational System really is so inept, that it can’t produce quality citizens that function at a minimum level of math and reading proficiency. Or maybe that’s patently unfair, and the few they couldn’t educate just happened to migrate, in mass, to my particular neighborhood to violate Express Lanes in stores where I shop.

More likely, it’s that too many people these days just don’t give a rat’s ass about manners, or how they treat others with whom they share the planet. In short, it’s all about them. They show it daily by not only ignoring posted limits in stores, but by living lives unfortunately guided by situational ethics. In this case, “Laws are made to be followed and enforced …… but just not for me!”

And maybe it’s because political correctness dictates that checkout clerks not hurt the feelings of those taking advantage of the system. Were they to look a transgressor in the eye, then using the microphone loudly announce, “Dumb Ass in the Express Lane… blue tank top and ratty flip flops. Assistance needed to read him the sign, and move his crap to another line,” how many times do you think it would happen again? Probably very few.

Anyway, since these checkout nightmares occurred, I haven’t had the courage to even leave the house. Frankly, I might just give up shopping in person, altogether. As we speak, I’m trying to find an on-line source (even on another continent, if necessary), that can sell and deliver Whole Wheat Pita Pockets fresher and faster than I can get them through the local Express Lane.

Furthermore, it would probably be a lot safer in the end. Shopping by computer all but rules out the possibility of me sustaining bodily injury in a spontaneous eruption of civilian violence. After all, that’s way too steep a price to pay… just to make a sandwich.