One of the habits that I've been trying to break for awhile now is my instant outrageous answer to those overly-obvious questions that people feel compelled to vocalize from time to time. It always sounds pretty funny in my head, but I know that not everyone else has my sense of humor, particularly the person asking the question. Especially since they don't often realize how blatantly obvious their interrogation was. (That, of course, is usually why they asked.)
So, I realize this about myself. I'm trying to do better. Trying to change and grow. But for pete's sake, a body can only stand so much growth, and sometimes these people are just begging for a response so over the top that it stops them in their tracks, makes their jaws drop and stammer in stunned silence. That's just so much more fun than having to supply the boring and expected response to those inane questions, no?
Let me show you just how well I'm doing. (Hey, I may not say it out loud to them, but I have to share somewhere - this stuff is just too good to keep to myself). Before I share I have to, in the interest of full disclosure, tell you that one of my pet peeves is cashiers who think that being attentive and courteous involves discussing my purchases as they are ringing me up. Yes, that Preparation H sure does wonders for my burning rump, thanks for asking. Oh yes, the raspberry scent is so much better than the original! You've just GOT to try it! It also makes a nice sauce for roasted chicken, by the way. Seriously, these people are the reason self-checks have become so popular. I'd rather do the work myself without the commentary. So, without further ado -
Setting: the checkout line of the local grocery store. A young lady is ringing my order up. The conveyor is loaded with bags of potatos, oodles of corn, tons of shrimp and mounds of sausage; supplies for the low country boil we're hosting this weekend.
Cashier (upon scanning the 5th or 6th kielbasa in a row): So...are you making something with all this sausage...and...shrimp?
Me (watch how I am ever so polite): Yes, yes I am. I'm using them, and the corn and potatos here, in case you were wondering, to make a low country boil.
Cashier: ... ... ... ... (stares at me)... ... ... ... (and I swear, a little drool came out)... ... ... ...
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That's what I get for trying! Now here's how that conversation went in my head...
Version A:
Cashier: Are you making something with all this sausage and shrimp?
Me: WHAT?! There's sausage in my cart?!?! And shrimp?!!?! Who put those there?!? I don't eat sausage!!! and then I just melt down in a total freak-out over the sheer thought of shrimp touching my groceries.
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Version B:
Cashier: Are you making something with all this sausage and shrimp?
Me: Yes, yes I am. We're making a paper mache project for my daughter's art class. And I continue to pay as if that was a totally sane response, but I develop a slight tick that gets progressively worse throughout the transaction. By the time I leave, I'm drooling a little.
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I know. I am a mean, heartless creature, I tell you. But I'm working on it. I could do even better, especially if these well meaning cashiers would just go back to texting their BFFs while checkng me out instead of attempting to make pleasantries. Seriously!
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