21!!!

I just spent a lovely, leisurely time shopping in my local Jewel for tonight's dinner, browsing some magazines, carefully selecting toilet bowl cleaners and other household cleaning supplies. It was a pleasant trip, until it was time to check out. I purposely hand-picked this particular check-out lane over the one next to it, because I saw that the shopper waiting in the back of the line had a lot of wine bottles in his cart and I noticed that the cashier was a young guy who would undoubtedly shout out "Twenty-one," and then wait for an of-age cashier to ring up the alcohol. This would take forever, I knew, so I carefully selected a different lane with only two other customers ahead of me. Since the first customer in line was already half-way through getting rung up, I was confident in my lane selection.

About twenty minutes later...I kid you not...it was finally my turn to get checked out. I don't know what the cashier or the other customers in front of me were doing to take up that much time, but I obviously chose the "loser lane." Loser lane, schmoser lane. At around fifteen minutes into the wait, as all the other cashiers in the adjoining lanes called out, "Twenty-one," I felt even more confident in my decision. And I do mean ALL the other cashiers. Jewel must be hiring for the summer. So what if I chose the loser lane? All wasn't lost. Turns out, I also mistakenly chose the Sky Citrus vodka that was on clearance sale with no price tag. And what does the cashier do? "Twenty-one!" Yep, my age-guessing abilities had failed me. The older cashier who'd come over to ring it up said that she'd call for a price check and I asked if I should just go get a different bottle to speed things up a bit. She walked away from me. Not a word. Okay, I normally wouldn't have said anything. But she walked away from me. I kinda lost it. "Why are you walking away from me? Why is she walking away from me? Answer me! I've been in this lane for twenty minutes! I'm going to get a different bottle. Keep ringing!"

When I returned, with the shelf price sticker thingy that I'd ripped off the display (none of the bottles of Sky Citrus clearance vodka had price tags...what was I supposed to do?), a different of-age cashier came over to ring up the liquor. Then my adolescent cashier couldn't find the product code for cilantro.

By the time I finished my transaction, I'd realized a few things: Check for a price tag before approaching the check-out lane. Find the oldest cashier in the joint and make a b-line for that register. Drink as much vodka as you can before going grocery shopping on a Saturday afternooon.