Oh, crap. She's a chatty one. She's taking forever with these people. And of course they're chatting back. Well, maybe they're the ones who initiated it. They've spoken to me every time we passed each other in the aisles....and they just noticed I'm behind them in line.
"Ah, we meet again!"
[I nod and smile]
Yes indeed we do. And for the last time.
"Are people coming to you for Thanksgiving?" Please don't talk to me. Please just grab you stuff and go. Please?
"Yes. Dinner for seven. And two dogs, but I don't know whether they'll get table scraps or dog food. Depends on their owners."
Why am I encouraging them? Tick-tock, people. I have a bus to catch. Oh, Hallelujah, they're leaving.
"Happy Thanksgiving!"
"You too." [I wave.]
Nope, it wasn't just them. She's chatty. And she keeps calling me "my dear." What is that about? Do I know her? I don't think I do. I just wish she'd stop asking so many questions of me: What am I doing with the rest of the day? Do I have people coming for Thanksgiving?
Look, I understand it's a boring job, and that standing there silently while things go "beep" maybe feels awkward. But please, if you can't talk and move at the same time, don't try it. Don't scan something, ask me a question, and then pause while I answer it. No, please, don't open my egg carton to make sure they are all unbroken. Hello? Do you think I'd put them in my cart without checking? I know you think this is customer service, but you're slowing me down, here.
Aaaand there goes the bus, right by the front window. Dammit.
Sigh. All right, lady, talk to me. I have a forty-minute wait in my immediate future, I might as well spend as little of it as possible in the rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment