Woman is blessed to have two high order friends in life--lifesavers, confidantes, sisters in laughter. My friend Doreen, a talented comic, creative force, warm heart full of love and kindness is my next guest blogger at Lori Hahn at Home...
There is one inevitable required task I absolutely hate. Shopping. Whether it is clothes, groceries, linens, it doesn't matter. One would think that since I am female that this should be instinctive. The shopping chromosome was never part of my DNA. When approaching a parking lot I mentally calculate the time it will take me to run in, grab what I want and dash through the checkout line with as little human contact as possible.
Recently I went into a home improvement store to make the simple purchase of anchor bolts for a shelf I was putting up. After going though the miles of isles, which looked well stocked to build a small city if necessary, I finally found my $1.98 item. I made my way to the front of the store and saw the latest and greatest in modern technology - self-checkout. My recluse spirit relishes the opportunity to make my purchase with out the monotone "Did you find everything?" from the teenager behind the register who has not mastered the art of eye contact. As I attempt to scan my single item the computer announces the price and demands I put the item in a bag. I refuse to waste a plastic bag on my one item so I place it next to the bag. Apparently this was not good enough for HAL. The computer demanded again that I put the item in the bag. I gave in put it in the bag, knowing as soon as this transaction was over I would remove it from the bag victorious in my ecological decision. The computer demanded again that I put the item in the bag. I am clearly looking at my purchase in the tan and orange plastic bag. I gently shake the bag hoping the computer will recognize that I am compliant to its demand. That was not good enough and I am instructed again. I more forcefully shake the bag pushing its contents all the way to the bottom. Then, unprovoked, the computer announces repeatedly "Please wait for an attendant", and a red light starts flashing. For some reason I feel like I have been caught shoplifting. I am slightly afraid of the person who has co me to offer assistance. Her name badge reads "Tiffany" but with the multiple facial piercing, neck tattoo and dark distant gaze, I doubt that this was the image her parents had when they named her. Without uttering a word she types a security access code (7594) that provides hope of liberation. I touch the computer screen to let it know I have no other purchases and wish to complete the transaction with a whopping $2.13 charged to my debit card. After I slide my card the computer wants to know my zip code. Although I know this is useful for demographic studies by somebody stuck in a dark drab corporate basement I find some sick enjoyment in providing 08807 as my zip code imagining an the anal retentive analyst trying to figure out why a customer from Bridgewater, NJ would need to purchase anchor bolts in Northern California.
I grab my receipt and race to the door knowing my estimated time in and out of the store was completely off the mark. As I walk through the parking lot a bit frustrated the old proverb came to mind, "Be careful of what you wish for, you just might get it."
Published on: Jul 15, 2006
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