Chandri MacLeod (chandri) wrote,
Chandri MacLeod

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Overwaitea-induced Schizophrenia

Cashier Brain: Hello, Customer! Happy! Smile and cheer and accomodating expression!

My Brain: Hel-- um. You have... you have *twenty* disposable sponges? Why do you have *twenty* disposable sponges? Do you have some kind of death wish?

Cashier Brain: Ooh! Your pettiness is so *interesting*! *titter* Would you like your milk in a bag?

My Brain: That's right, go ahead and waste three plastic bags on jugs of milk that already have handles. Oh, and you want them *double*-bagged, too? Well! Why don't I carry your groceries to your car and set fire to a tree on the way out?

Cashier Brain: Do you have your points card with you today? Would you like to redeem any coupons? Shall I be even *more* accomodating?

My Brain: No, I *can't* do it with just your phone number. We have cheque cashing, so I can't do that. Yes, I know Safeway does that. They don't have cheque cashing. Sorry. Sorry. *Sorry*. Grargh. No, I CAN'T DO THAT. I'm sorry that your husband didn't give you enough money to cover it without the club discount. That's not actually *my* fault, you know.

Cashier Brain: Would you like to take something out? I can send a service clerk to find a more economically-priced item...

My Brain: Oh, my GODS. Why not the sponges? How about the sponges? Use soap and a dishcloth like a civilized person. Like a non-chronically-mind-numbingly-stupid-lazy-got-married-right-out-of-highschool-never-worked-a-day-in-her-life-idiot. Why don't you take out the SPONGES?

Cashier Brain: Oh, you'd like to leave your entire order here and go get your husband so he can put it on the credit card? Why, sure! I'll just put it on suspension until you get back.

My Brain: And... now you've been gone ten minutes. And now twenty. And now... there's a line. And there's no manager in sight. Aaaand... oh, don't tell me. Those people, the old lady in the polyester leopard-print? They're your friends, right? And they *really* want to be served *right* now.

*sigh* When I quit, I'm getting a partial lobotomy. Really. To take out all the enforced cheer *and* the evil vegetable codes.

While waiting for the idiot woman to return (over six bucks worth of sponges in a $200 order!), I had this daydream - where the lady in the polyester leopard-print pulled a little gun out of her purse and started shooting up the place.

And the stupid woman never came back.

I really need a new job...

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