I understand that you take your job very seriously, I do. I was a cashier once and, truth be told, it was an awesome job. I sometimes had to bag orders. I was an amazing bagger. If they had awards (which would have been too freakin' ballsy), I would have won! Let's see if I remember: frozen foods in one bag, eggs on the top, meats separate from anything else, not too many cans in one bag, cleaning supplies have the plague - bundle them up several times and don't even think about putting them with anything edible. Um, you get the picture. It's not difficult.
((I bet most people think I am going to write about how he messed up that little grocery packing lesson I just wrote about. I wish.))
As my items came flying down the ramp (I say flying because Monica was whipping my food, even my chips), he stood there watching and waiting. I could easily see several items he could have started with, but I was powerless and bagless to help. He contemplated his next move like this was a chess game he needed to win because the very lives of his family hung in the balance. Then he began. Slowly. One item at a time. Searching for a compatible food item to share its ride home with cat food.
Did you think there were social problems you had to worry about? You stared at the pasta and bread crumbs for like :30? Did you think they'd mate like rabbits or kill one another like two male rats.
So, while he was contemplating my array of goods like he was on the finale of Survivor and this puzzle of fitting my groceries in perfectly, was the difference between $1,000,000 or nada - and trust me if that were the case, me and the 30 people behind me would have been rooting you on - I could only smile (what else could I do? It's almost Christmas, after all) and hope that Monica would help. Monica? Will you help? Please help Edmond. Nawww... she's to busy talking to the cashier next to her. I start listening in. What else could I do?
Monica's almost done Christmas shopping. Yogurt fits in nicely with the cheese and eggnog (they have sugar cookie eggnog, BTW, most excellent). She was going to get her boyfriend an iTunes gift card but that's so impersonal (big word from Monica). Broccoli goes in with peapods. No. Broccoli comes out and carrots go in with peapods. Sure, they are better suited to each other, I understand. Poor broccoli, I wonder where he'll end up. The other cashier (can't read her name. To. Far. Away) is getting her boyfriend an PS3, ha. She has no idea what she has done. I won't tell. Mac 'n Cheese (don't judge) goes in with pasta and a couple jars of tomatoes. Oh, I see where he's going with that...and on ...and on... he goes.
So I get home and pull out my groceries. Everything has fallen over and out of their bags since I had to slam on my breaks for some loser who wouldn't go through a yellow light, I know...loser!!! So I pull out the last bag and there's the broccoli, which has managed to escape its plastic cocoon and is now getting to know, and intimately I might add, the soap and laundry detergent. Really? Really, Bagger!!
I know you are sitting in the break room laughing? I hope you are enjoying yourself.