It’s been three days and I’m still steaming a little bit over what happened at the grocery store the other night. Here’s how it went down:
It’s 11pm and I have to make a quick trip to the store for two things. I get to the store and it’s empty. It’s eerily empty especially considering it’s the holiday season and people are always out shopping.
It took me only 5 minutes to park and find the two things I needed plus one thing I wanted…I was hit with a sudden craving for peanut butter ice cream. Why? It’s delicious. That’s why.
Then I go to the register lines. There is one open but isn’t that always the way? There are two people ahead of me but they only have a few small items a piece so it’s no big deal. The girl actually checking out had a ton of stuff but it was ok. It had been a quick trip and I had my ice cream. I was a happy woman.
The girl at the register says those dreaded words, “I need these rang up separately. There will be six separate transactions.” Everyone in line looked like this:
But, you know, what are you going to do? There’s only one register open. We waited…and waited…and waited…and waited. Then it came time to pay for transaction #1. She was using WIC. It’s ok though, no one got upset, we understand. So we waited…and waited…and waited…and waited…then it came time to pay for transaction #2. She handed the cashier another form of assistance card. Then we waited…and waited…and waited…and waited…and waited…and waited…then it came time to pay for transaction #3. She handed the cashier yet another form of assistance voucher. Then…it got ugly. The box of Rice Krispies was declined.
Mmm! But no, not the treats. The cereal.
Yeah, that’s better. The girl flipped out!!! She started yelling at the cashier, “That can’t be declined! I get that all the time! It is my son’s favorite cereal! Try it again! I want your manager!!!” She’s screaming. The cashier tries again and it’s declined. He calls the manager. The manager tries it and it’s declined. The manager tells the girl, “The cereal is $3.89 if you would like to pay cash.” Oh no. She yells and causes a scene. It gets ugly. Everyone is getting impatient. The line behind me is backing up. Uh-oh. Then Mr. Beer gets upset. He’s the customer in line behind WIC girl and one person ahead of me. He is trying to buy a case of beer and toilet paper. Dude knows what he wants and what he’s going to need and he wants out of there. He has to say something and everyone knows it’s about to go down. He says, “Lady, if it’s your kids favorite and the government won’t buy it for you why don’t you be a good mom and just buy it yourself?”
Everyone in line was like:
She gets upset, as expected, and starts yelling at him. I don’t remember what she was saying because at this point my head was still, “OMG I can’t believe he said that” and, “OMG she’s going to whip his ass” and, “OMG I can’t believe I’m watching this. I just want to get away from it all and go home. Why won’t they open another register?” and all my ears were hearing was, “Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah” while they yelled at each other.
Mr. Beer says, “Why don’t you just call his Daddy and tell him to go buy some damn cereal for his kid?” I guess Mr. Beer was thinking this kid had a Daddy like this:
Apparently he was wrong. WIC girl shouts back at him, “He doesn’t have a Dad!” to which, of course, Mr. Beer has to reply, “Honey, you’re not the Virgin Mary and you’re kid wasn’t conceived by miracle. He was conceived because you opened your legs for a man so yes, your son does have a Dad. Why don’t you be a mom and see to it that his Dad pays for his kid? Then you can buy Rice Krispies.”
To which…WIC girl screams back at him, with her eyes bulging and foam dripping from her rabid lips, “He’s MY son! MY KID! His father has no obligation to take care of him! MY son is not HIS responsbility!”
Oh My God. The manager tried to intervene. Mr. Beer threw his case of beer and toilet paper at the manager and walked out shaking his head. Someone finally flipped on a light to the self check-out and I ran over there.
I was out of the store in 10 seconds. What a night.