Time to reveal my secret. You see, I've been too busy to blog because I've been working day and night to get Ralph Nader on the ballot in all 50 states. Go Ralph Go! He He He
However, I still have family responsibilites. One of those is Chief Procurement Officer, in other words providing food for the masses. So the Boy and I were at the local market on Sunday after church. For any who long for small time life, get this....they still bag your groceries for you!
We'd made a pretty good haul. After we were in line, I looked up and discovered to my horror that I had picked the lane manned by the Slowest Cashier in the Universe. I'm serious. She has one speed and one speed only, Slow and Steady. With a sigh I reminded myself, Patience is a Virtue. (Who said that anyway? If you google origin+"Patience is a virtue" the first hit is a web story of the Romulan Empire, titled "Patience is a Virtue". Sure, everything might be available on the web, but they never said we'd be able to find it.)
Anyway, back to the grocery line. I manage to be patient as she slowly checks out the man in front of us. It's Sunday remember. We're fresh out of church and still wearing our best behavior. After checking him out she adjusts a receipt for another customer. No problem. I'm not late to a meeting or anything and we are next after all. Being in her line should only entail an additional 5-10 minute wait, right? Finally it's our turn. She begins and manages to scan 5-10 of our items, then stops.
There are two young hispanic men checking out in the lane next to us. (I mention their heritage because we live in a pretty non diverse part of the country, and I'm unsure if that contributed to the events following or if age was the deciding factor.) They have two carts burdened with enough food for a whole passel of folks to eat well for a week. The first gentleman is through the line and waiting with his cart. The second one, whom appears to be paying for all the goods, is apparently purchasing adult beverages and has an I.D. to document he is old enough to do so.
Our cashier, Slow and Steady, leaves her lane, and requests the I.D. of the gentleman already through the line. She insists that both of them have to be of legal age. Hmmmm. As Through The Line guy protests he doesn't have an I.D., she persists. Meanwhile, I consider what would happen if I were purchasing adult beverages? I have the Boy with me, who is obviously underage. Would she be demanding his I.D.? Would she refuse to sell me alcohol because the Boy is with me on our shopping venture?
I don't think so. For some reason, she's decided it's imperative she treat these two guys differently than she would treat me. Not only that, Slow and Steady has abandoned me to get involved in a situation that no one asked her help with. At that point, Patience left the building, suddenly replaced by Social Unrest.
I interjected myself into the situation loudly, "Excuse Me. Can I Get Checked Out Here?" Quickly followed by, "Isn't there a Manager who can handle this?" (Lucky it wasn't the Girl with me. She is old enough that she would be mortified that I was making a scene in small town America.)
To her credit, the cashier in the aisle next to us quickly calls in the manager to intervine. He rightly determines that only the person purchasing the product needs to be of legal age. Slow and Steady returns to check us out. The manager speeds our departure by bagging our groceries himself. Apologies are offered and accepted for the delay and we're on our merry way.
As we walked into the parking lot, the gentlemen in question were about to pull out of their parking spot. I lifted my hand in a wave, which was returned with a smile.