Monday, October 11, 2010


I think express checkout lanes are a marvelous invention. They allow stores to optimize their cashiers, and people who are only at the store for 15 minutes until the 831 turns around to get in and out quickly.

Except when people abuse them.

Sometimes, at Wal-Mart, people go to the express checkout lane with 20-squared instead of just 20 items in their shopping cart. Sometimes people go to the express checkout lane who have apparently never used a debit card in their life before, because they need the cashier to explain every step in the whole process to them. Some people are so distracted by cell phone conversations that they keep having to be reminded that they are, in fact, in the middle of a transaction.

When those people are in line in front of me, I burn with a cold rage.

Once, at Macey's, back when I lived on the 830, I was making a few important purchases at approximately 10:10 at night. I, being conscious of the fact that the last 830 of the night went past the stop closest to Macey's at 10:22 pm (the schedule has since changed, for you purists out there), headed for the express checkout lane with what I thought was plenty of time.

I was wrong.

There was a girl in the checkout line who was buying some inane-looking potted plant for purposes I wouldn't dare divine. She was talking to a boy who I hope was related to her, because the topic of conversation was how she was "crushing" so bad on a boy in her Home Evening group (It's a BYU Mormon thing) and how, while she was telling someone else about said "crushing", he looked right at her and omgitwassoawfuli'mgonnadie.

In the first place, for those of us who use Webster's Dictionary instead of Urban Dictionary, "crushing" is a verb meaning "to take an object in one's hands and squeeze tightly, thus causing deformation of the object." It is not "to lose all dignity due to one's excessive preoccupation with another individual, even if that individual is extremely attractive."

In the second place, she was so distracted by her conversation that she wasn't even looking at the cashier. This meant that when she held out a bill that was too small to cover the purchase (sales tax applies, honey), the cashier was unable to communicate this fact to her, even though he tried several times. The young man who was the unfortunate recipient of the "crushing" story was obliged to take the money out of her hand, augment it with another bill from inside her purse, hand the amended total to the cashier, receive change from the cashier, and deposit the change back in her purse. The young lady noticed none of this, and had to be physically directed away from the register after the transaction had been completed.

I really hope nothing came of that crush, because that young lady had better not reproduce.

In brighter news, I did catch the bus. It involved running.


  1. LOVE. As in, I love this. Not as in crushing.

  2. You'd better not crush me . . . that might hurt.