I Require Adult Supervision
Most every time I go out in public, I end up with a story.
Earlier this week I went to a local Sprawl Mart to get a few things for the office.
It was a simple shopping trip.
But, we are a talking about me here.
I got to the self-checkout lane and rung up my purchases. I swiped my credit card, and that’s when things went horribly awry.
The screen read “Processing…Please Wait”, and it stuck there.
The helpful cashier monitoring the self-checkout lanes came over and tried to cancel, tried to suspend, tried…everything.
It didn’t work.
Instead, it got worse.
Slowly, I noticed cashiers and customers alike up and down the checkout lanes mashing buttons and cursing the gods of shopping as purchases were stuck in limbo.
Apparently, I’d broken Sprawl Mart.
Finally, after many minutes, one manager with long false eyelashes and nails started mashing on buttons at her console and the gods of shopping released their death grip on the machines.
I finished my transaction and booked it out of there.
I got in my car and noticed I needed gas, so I stopped at the nearest place and as the gas was pumping I decided I needed a vat of soda from their vast fountain selections.
I filled the vat with ice and diet soda, went to sit it on the counter so I could pay, and my miscalculations as to the height of said counter led to soda-launching as if from a trebuchet.
The now-drenched clerk waiting to ring me up stood there blinking at me, pieces of ice and rivers of soda running down her hair, face, shirt.
“Well, at least it’s diet…so…umm…you…uh…won’t….be…you know, sticky…” I mumbled as I backed away, intent on
reloading refilling my vat…because, dammit, destroying the world is thirsty business.
When I came back to the counter, I had a new
victim clerk waiting to take my money.
I paid, and got the hell out of there.
And this is why we can’t have nice things, and why I shouldn’t be allowed out without a chaperone.