There's A Fine Line Between Stupidity And Hypoxia

Oh, the high standards of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. Expecting employees who ring up and bag her groceries to do so in a logical manner. What are the odds that I get a brand-new checker just learning the ropes, every time I shop? SLIM TO NONE! Inexperience cannot be the excuse!

I know my checker at Country Mart on Tuesday had experience. After all, there was a lady ahead of me buying groceries. I could not have been this gal's very first customer.

She was wearing a paper mask as Country Mart requires of its employees, yet touching it every five seconds, and making sucking noises that were either attempts at inhaling, or snorting back snot! I don't care if people wear a mask or don't, but if you DO, for the love of all that is not-Not-Heavenly, KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF IT! Surely if the gal was sick, she wouldn't have been allowed to work, right? A store that requires masks must also be taking temps before shifts, right?

I'm not concerned about catching anything from her. There was a plexiglass shield between us during most of the transaction. I didn't touch my face. I washed my hands as soon as I got home, and again before eating my lunch. No big deal, just annoying. Maybe she has allergies.

I suppose it was the lack of oxygen to her brain that made the Masked Checker put my bag of hot chicken tenders in a bag with my frozen taquitos. Since she could easily have put the hot chicken tenders in with the foil bag of White Cheddar Cheeseball snacks, no harm done. But no. She'd put the soft bready steak rolls in with the cheeseballs.

But here's the most egregious act of bad-check-ery that the Masked Checker subjected me to. She didn't give me a bag for the plastic tray of 8-piece chicken! Just slid that tray across the end of the checkout to me! Naked. For me to carry like a platter. Sweet Gummi Mary! I didn't want to push a cart out to T-Hoe, and have to bring it back across the lot. I wanted to drape bags on my arm and walk out. I only had five items! You'd think I could carry them in bags.

So there I was, bearing the plastic tray of 8-piece chicken like a cater-waiter offering a tray of drinks. My arm weighted down with the two bags at the elbow, and T-Hoe's door lock clicker in my other hand. Sheesh! Last time I didn't send in my DNA for data mining to 23-and-Me, I didn't notice any Indian or African heritage that would predispose me to carry that tray of 8-piece chicken on my head. It was awkward.

When I got home, I took a pack of Hawaiian Rolls out of a Save A Lot bag, put it in with the steak rolls and cheeseballs, and used the empty bag to stow my chicken tray for carrying in.

But let me backtrack. THE most egregious thing that the Masked Checker did was to NOT GIVE ME MY $20 CASH BACK! I had to ask for it!

"Um. I put in CASH BACK."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Maybe it didn't show up. But I put it in."

I handed her the receipt. She looked at it, and opened the cash register to get my twenty. I really think she was delirious. Hopefully from lack of oxygen due to the mask, and not due to a VIRUSy fever!