I felt wide awake when the Cardinals won the National League championship Friday. I had to go to Walmart the following morning for a grocery run, so why not do it right there and then?
Funny how grocery shopping can quickly tire you. I walked through the aisles as workers were restocking, and it felt like I was sleepwalking. Go here, get cat food, check. Go here, get milk, check.
I pay up and take the cart to the car. Then I realize I forgot ground beef for the chili I was going to make next day. So I go back in, get the only ground beef they had before restocking, and go check out again. I had lucked out.
The middle-aged woman doing the checking out was talking to a much younger man about everything under the sun despite the fact they barely knew each other. Bap-bap-bap-bap, bap-bap-bap. It really didn’t seem to matter that I’m in the “21 items or less” aisle, they were going to have their conversation, period.
Now I’m a nice guy in situations like this. Perhaps I shouldn’t be. I fix a solid gaze on this woman, trying to say “I’d like you to do your job so I can get out of here” with my eyes.
“You know, they don’t pay me enough here. We work long hours just to make ends meet.” I wanted to say that I used to work at one, but I figure I’d be stuck there until 7AM if I did, and it was just past 1AM.
I nod my head, trying to figure out if she’s attempting to shame me for being so impatient. Then I figure out this is how she normally seems to be.
I take the ground beef and move out of the store with purpose. I can tolerate when my fellow shoppers slow me down, but when employees do that, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.