Usually I love grocery shopping...because I love food. What I don't like are crowded stores. I try to shop in the early morning or late evening just to avoid crowds. Yesterday, the day before Thanksgiving, was horrible.
The Husband and I have to go have family fun with his side of the family this year. I like his family so it's not a big deal. Plus, I don't have to cook the whole dinner. I did, however, get instructions from the SIL (sister in law)to bring a dessert. No problemo...PW pound cake coming right up. The only problem is that the last time I made it the crust stuck to the bundt pan. Now I'm paranoid that it's going to stick again and that the cake's going to be ruined. So off to the store I go to buy different cooking spray.
I get to the store and immediately realize I've chosen poorly. The parking lot is full. Fortunately I was in the car and not the truck so I could squeeze into a smaller space. My plan is to get the spray and get out...pronto.
I usually grab a cart only because I know that once I get inside a store and don't have a cart, I immediately need one. The first hold up was in the shopping cart area where there were really s-l-o-w people. Not old, just the meandering sort who have no idea that there are other people behind them waiting to get a cart. These people annoy me...not the waiters...the meanderers. I don't think that's really a word but I don't care.
Finally a cart is in my hands which fortunately, since I didn't want to take the time to check, has all wheels functioning in sync. So I think maybe this will be an okay trip. I usually check to make sure the carts roll properly because I hate having one that has a sticky wheel that always wants to pull you to the right or left and you have to fight just to go in a straight line. I also hate the carts that make noise with each turn of the wheel...sometimes it's a loud squeak, sometimes it's a thump, thump, thump, with each turn...it makes me feel like E.F. Hutton...and that people are staring. I'm sure it's all in my imagination but I can't shake the feeling.
I wind my way through masses of people oblivious to the fact they're blocking isles... kids running lose with snotty noses knocking shit over... old folks shuffling along... young folks ignoring their kids with snotty noses knocking shit over, all doing their best to make my quick little trip an hour long torture fest.
I grab the cooking spray...and a few other necessities...at least they seem necessary at the time...in hindsight, they probably weren't...anyway I'm off to the checkout. This is one of those large discount food stores where you unload your groceries onto a conveyor belt and bag your own stuff. Lines were a mile long.
In the line next to me were two old ladies with painted on eyebrows, bright blue eye shadow, coral lipstick, and pin curls...not carrot red either, solid brown...sisters as I was soon to find out. When a clerk came and grabbed the one in front to open a new checkstand, I ended up behind her. The other old lady looked at me and, of course, I felt guilty so I asked her if she wanted to go ahead of me. Old Lady #1, hereafter referred to as #1, thanked me and told me that Old Lady #2, hereafter referred to as #2, was her sister. Yadda, yadda, yadda...just go lady, I'm in a hurry (to myself, of course...to her, I smile and nod).
#2 gets her order paid for and rolls her cart to the end of the belt and #1 puts her stuff on the belt. While #1 is paying, I start unloading my cart. There's a rhythm to this. I have a whopping four items. After paying, I look and see that #1 & #2 (kinda sounds like I'm talking about peeing & pooping now...doesn't it?) are standing at the end and just gabbing. Neither of them is bagging their groceries.
The cashier, who's probably in her early twenties, sees that the oldsters are holding up the line and asks #1 to please bag her groceries.
Apparently #1 thinks I've complained or am in some way responsible for her mild reprimand by the cashier because she starts ripping plastic bags off the little rack that holds them and throws them at me. She doesn't say a word but glares at me making a scrunchy sphincter face with each toss (four in all). #2 glares at me making the same sphincter face and now I can see the sisterly resemblance...thankfully #2 doesn't start pelting me with plastic like her sis. Fucking hags.
Part of me wants to laugh, part of me wants to tell her to fuck off, and part of me is mortified because I'm sure everyone watching thinks I must have said or done something horrible to this poor old lady to make her behave like this. Honest, I was just standing there fat, dumb, and happy, minding my own business. I didn't even complain to the cashier about the Hagathas holding up the line. Jeez.
In the end I used each of the four bags ole Sphincter Face threw at me, bagged my four items individually, and slunk out of the store hoping to get to my car before I inadvertently pissed someone else off and they started throwing solid objects at me.
I knew it was a bad idea to go to the store. Looking back if I'd just walked into the store without stopping for a cart, picked up the one item I needed, paid and left...I would have avoided the whole embarrassing bag throwing hag episode...it's the stoopidist thing.