Customer Dis-Service and Why I Hate To Go Out In Public

Let me just preface this by saying…

When you go out in public it may be a divine experience. The cashiers may be the friendliest, nicest, most professional people you have ever met. Cars may go the right way down the isles in the parking lot. Heck, customers may even smile at you and steer clear of you with their cart, while their children, with snot free upper lips greet you with warm wishes.

Let me go on record as to saying, none of these things ever happen for me.

I don’t know what it is about me. Friends tell me that I have the “bitch look”. If I am not super smiley and laughing about myself, I must be in a bad mood. Again, you know how chubby people should always be jolly! None of this is true though. Sometimes, when I am spending massive amounts of money on things that I will eat (two things you don’t mess with, my money or my food) I need to focus all my attention on the task at hand. Just because I am over 6 foot tall doesn’t mean I automatically work at the store and will help you get down the 5 gallon can of Wesson Oil on the top shelf (I get asked that all the time! Standing there in normal clothes, shopping cart in tow. “Do you work here? Can you get those Depends on the tops shelf for me?”). Maybe because I am in “the zone” when I shop makes me the target for the craziness. Let me share with you some true to life experiences.

**Grocery store with wild safari animal in title, close to house**
Walking down the isle, searching for just the right scent of laundry detergent, a mother and her child walk past me in one of those huge race car carts. The child, full on snot dripplets leaking out his nose, some dried on his lip, looks at me and goes “Ew, your Ugly!” His mother just looked at me and laughed and gave me the “isn’t he adorable” look. If I were a meaner person I might have told the child that he wasn’t much too look at himself and he should save his judgment until he was old enough to groom himself and blow his own nose without mommy saying “Now blow! Just a little harder, let’s get all those boogies out!”

**At same grocery store, days later**
Just as I am about to check out, after I check my buggy to make sure I have the essentials (Bread, check. Soda, check. Ice cream, check. Liver mush, double check…don’t judge me) I see that I have lucked up. There is a line with no waiting. As I wheel up to the counter, I notice that the cashier is standing, leaned up against the register, talking to the teenager in the next lane, with his back to me. I begin to put my delightful food choices on the belt and see that he still has not turned around to acknowledge me or began to check me out. I then start to put my food down a little more loudly…but without being too rough with it. It is way too fragile!!! After all the contents of my cart are on the belt, said teenager has still not stopped his conversation and asked me for my MVP card! Damn him! He must be destroyed! Doesn’t he know that the longer he waits, the longer it will take me to get home and sample these new, ever so excitingly packaged, Pringles? So I get my card out, put it towards him and say, “Ah hem”. He then looks over his shoulder at me, rolls his eyes, looks back at the other teen and says “hold on just a sec”, then finally takes my card and begins to check me out. I mean I am SO sorry I made you do your job!

The absolute best EVER

**Ghetto-Mart (I call this Wal-Mart that because I feel as if I might be shanked every time I go there)
Again, I check to make sure I have everything on my list (was already stocked up on liver mush, needed some oatmeal though) and wheeled the buggy up into a line. You always have to wait like forever to get checked out at this Wal-Mart because people are beating their kids in line and running out the door with 15 pregnancy tests that they didn’t pay for and everything else. So when I put my items on the belt for “Desiree” I noticed that she was in a full on, hands waiving in the air, finger snapping, neck popping, conversation with the cashier behind her. Let me just preface this conversation by saying, I am white, I go to an HBCU (historically black college or university) and I could care less about race. Also, I was wearing my NC A&T SU tee-shirt, complete with “Aggie Pride” logo.

Finger Snapper 1 (Desiree) – I know girl! I had to take my weave out!
Finger Snapper 2 – Oh no you didn’t! Why!?!? Girl I like those braids! (Let me remind you that all of this is being said “quite” loudly)
FS1 – Cause! He just kept wantin to pull on it all the time!
FS2 – No he didn’t! Girl those braids were mad fresh!
FS1 – I mean I like when he pulls my hair when we are gettin down, but dayum, that is just too expensive! I was like, you must be crazy. Pullin on this weave like that!
FS2 – Ooooh! I know! When he pulls your hair, that’s hittin it right!
FS1 – I might have to get it again, I ain’t feelin it without it!

It went on from there. But I was so shocked about the topic of conversation while being checked out; I have tried to repress it.

So in closing...as my cashier, or fellow shopper, just smile at me. I will do the same back. That is, as long as you don’t force me to listen to what gets you off, sexually.