that person
i stood behind 5 people in line while the 17 year old cashier explained how much she loved the book the woman was buying. why is it she has to affirm every purchase, i cannot help but wonder. are border’s employees told customer’s are insecure about their purchases and therefore need a life coaching session?
i tap my foot. four people ahead of me and no sign of a relief cashier. isn’t there a protocol for this? where’s the back up? i almost ask her to call someone, but refrained. i don’t want to be ‘that person.’
okay, enough with the chit chat. finish up. three more… two more… one more.
‘can i see your driver’s license?’ the bubbly blond asks the woman ahead of me.
the woman fumbles through her purse which seems to be an endless abyss. diving in, she finds nothing but continues to swim around in hopes of uncovering the sacred plastic card.
‘i just need to verify your name on the card. it’s a company standard as we don’t want to…’
‘yeah, i know… i just cannot seem to find it,’ as she continues to fumble through the madness.
i tap my foot again. kind of intentionally, kind of not.
without turning around, i hear the woman say, ‘why don’t you help the customer behind me. i think she’s in a hurry.’
i freeze. in that moment, i became ‘that person.’
here in my business attire, black heals, blackberry, and urgent schedule, i became that person. you know, that person who’s not patient enough to wait in line, who critizes the way the store is run under her breath, who let’s out a sigh when people don’t arrive to the counter with everything ready.
‘oh no. please, go ahead. i can wait,’ i quickly stammer with my face turning several shades of red. if my mom were here, she’d pinch my arm right now and give me that look that all moms have perfected.
finally, the sale is complete and i step forward to purchase my GRE flash cards and on sale christmas ornament.
‘thank you for waiting,’ the blond says as she rings me up.
‘no worries,’ i smirk. she had no idea.