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This was the best/worst thing I ever got to experience that didn't involve headlocks. (Worst at the time, best now that I've had a chance to think it over.) I do truly believe this is the most defined appearence of passive-aggressiveness I have ever seen. Probably the term "textbook case" could be applied. I also freely admit to my own suckiness, but at least it was measured suckiness that could be ended at a second's notice.
And yes...this is THAT Wal-Mart. The one I seriously have GOT to stop going to...as soon as I find another Ramen noodle dealer...I mean carrier. Stupid spicy beef addiction.
I was in Wal-Mart, doing my usual thing (8-pack of Dr Pepper, scads of Ramen noodles, random chocolate, etc.), and since I'm pretty anti-human, I went to a self-checkout to do my business. Now, this was a full service self-check...had the little treadmill belt and everything so that you could stack up a whole cart full of groceries to ring up yourself. I didn't have a full cart, just about 40-50 items, most of which were small cans of cat food and bags of noodles, so I wasn't taking up a lot of space on the conveyer.
Now, I've mentioned before...I'm a change hoarder. I can have easily a pound of change on my person at any given time. Wal-Mart machines are usually how I deal with this, though, either with the card refiller up front, or, as in this case, the self-check. That said, though, I'm intelligent enough not to do it during a huge rush, but at this point, it was about 10:30 on a weekday morning and there was no one there but me and the bingo crowd (elderly folks), who don't want anything to do with the self-check 90% of the time anyway. So I rang up my stuff and started chunking my coinage.
At this point, a 30-ish woman with SERIOUSLY frizzed out brown hair came up behind me with an overflowing cart full of what had to be a week's worth of family groceries. I didn't think much of it, since A) most of the time, people are just pulling in to look for an empty self-check, and B), there was another full-service to my left, two express to my right, and rows of empty regular check-outs complete with real-live breathing people.
So I'm standing there, with my buggy holding my bags out to the side, the conveyor empty, and my change purse open and rattling through the machine, and after about 30 seconds, I realize the woman is still standing there. I glance back at her, see her staring at me, and pointedly glance at all the other empty check-outs before returning to what I'm doing.
At this point, the woman lets out a SIIIIIIIIIGH and starts shuffling her feet, looking around herself. Interestingly enough, this inspires me to start taking my sweet time with what I'm doing...hey, can't just be idly tossing away those Wisconsin quarters, I might find a misprint...look, a 1982 penny, that's my birthyear...
After about another minute of this, she can't stand it anymore. "Is that ALL you have to pay with?"
"Nope."
"Well, can't you use your BILLS? I'm in a hurry."
"Nope. And if you're in a hurry, try that aisle right there-," *pointing to next self-check where an elderly lady is paying for one box of Tylenol with a fifty* "That lady's about done."
"But I'm already in this aisle!"
I can't find a fit response to this, other than silence, so that's what I go with, and I keep dropping pennies into the slot. The lady huffs, sighs, taps her foot, and looks around...not going to another aisle, and also not bothering to start unloading her scads of groceries on the utterly empty belt. It's been a grand total of two minutes, and since this has been going on, I've thrown in about five bucks in change, most of it pennies, so it's not like I'm being slow...comparitively, I'm hauling ass.
She decides to chime up again. "Other people need to use the registers, you know!"
"Do you have OCD?"
"What is OC-NO!"
"Then you don't have any problem with moving to the next register. I'm using this one."
"I've already got my cart in here!"
"Well, if you'd like, I could move it out for you."
"Just hurry up!" (Here's the best part!) "You're being a BAD CUSTOMER! Don't you know that people like you make Wal-Mart workers mad!"
I admit, I hesitated. I debated the ethical and moral dilemma now facing me...I could take this woman-probably just a stressed out single mother, possibly a retail worker, who was just trying to get things together while the kids are at school-and flame broil her with one of my patented curse word-laden tirades, possibly reducing her to tears or at least making her so angry as to scream...or I could turn the other cheek, collect my karma points, and move on with my day.
or 
so to speak.
Or, I could compromise on the two, grin, and say "Yes ma'am, I know I am. There's a website online you should visit..." And after my pimpage, finished off my change within another minute and was on my way while she FINALLY started unloading her stuff.
Total change spent: $27.21.
Total minutes spent popping it in: approximately four.
Average money per minute: $6.80
Not bad if I do say so myself...
I haven't seen any railings about the red-haired wench in Wal-Mart who was jamming up the self-checks yet, though...I guess maybe she decided not to check us out. Can't blame a girl for trying!
And yes...this is THAT Wal-Mart. The one I seriously have GOT to stop going to...as soon as I find another Ramen noodle dealer...I mean carrier. Stupid spicy beef addiction.
I was in Wal-Mart, doing my usual thing (8-pack of Dr Pepper, scads of Ramen noodles, random chocolate, etc.), and since I'm pretty anti-human, I went to a self-checkout to do my business. Now, this was a full service self-check...had the little treadmill belt and everything so that you could stack up a whole cart full of groceries to ring up yourself. I didn't have a full cart, just about 40-50 items, most of which were small cans of cat food and bags of noodles, so I wasn't taking up a lot of space on the conveyer.
Now, I've mentioned before...I'm a change hoarder. I can have easily a pound of change on my person at any given time. Wal-Mart machines are usually how I deal with this, though, either with the card refiller up front, or, as in this case, the self-check. That said, though, I'm intelligent enough not to do it during a huge rush, but at this point, it was about 10:30 on a weekday morning and there was no one there but me and the bingo crowd (elderly folks), who don't want anything to do with the self-check 90% of the time anyway. So I rang up my stuff and started chunking my coinage.
At this point, a 30-ish woman with SERIOUSLY frizzed out brown hair came up behind me with an overflowing cart full of what had to be a week's worth of family groceries. I didn't think much of it, since A) most of the time, people are just pulling in to look for an empty self-check, and B), there was another full-service to my left, two express to my right, and rows of empty regular check-outs complete with real-live breathing people.
So I'm standing there, with my buggy holding my bags out to the side, the conveyor empty, and my change purse open and rattling through the machine, and after about 30 seconds, I realize the woman is still standing there. I glance back at her, see her staring at me, and pointedly glance at all the other empty check-outs before returning to what I'm doing.
At this point, the woman lets out a SIIIIIIIIIGH and starts shuffling her feet, looking around herself. Interestingly enough, this inspires me to start taking my sweet time with what I'm doing...hey, can't just be idly tossing away those Wisconsin quarters, I might find a misprint...look, a 1982 penny, that's my birthyear...
After about another minute of this, she can't stand it anymore. "Is that ALL you have to pay with?"
"Nope."
"Well, can't you use your BILLS? I'm in a hurry."
"Nope. And if you're in a hurry, try that aisle right there-," *pointing to next self-check where an elderly lady is paying for one box of Tylenol with a fifty* "That lady's about done."
"But I'm already in this aisle!"
I can't find a fit response to this, other than silence, so that's what I go with, and I keep dropping pennies into the slot. The lady huffs, sighs, taps her foot, and looks around...not going to another aisle, and also not bothering to start unloading her scads of groceries on the utterly empty belt. It's been a grand total of two minutes, and since this has been going on, I've thrown in about five bucks in change, most of it pennies, so it's not like I'm being slow...comparitively, I'm hauling ass.
She decides to chime up again. "Other people need to use the registers, you know!"
"Do you have OCD?"
"What is OC-NO!"
"Then you don't have any problem with moving to the next register. I'm using this one."
"I've already got my cart in here!"
"Well, if you'd like, I could move it out for you."
"Just hurry up!" (Here's the best part!) "You're being a BAD CUSTOMER! Don't you know that people like you make Wal-Mart workers mad!"
I admit, I hesitated. I debated the ethical and moral dilemma now facing me...I could take this woman-probably just a stressed out single mother, possibly a retail worker, who was just trying to get things together while the kids are at school-and flame broil her with one of my patented curse word-laden tirades, possibly reducing her to tears or at least making her so angry as to scream...or I could turn the other cheek, collect my karma points, and move on with my day.
or so to speak.Or, I could compromise on the two, grin, and say "Yes ma'am, I know I am. There's a website online you should visit..." And after my pimpage, finished off my change within another minute and was on my way while she FINALLY started unloading her stuff.
Total change spent: $27.21.
Total minutes spent popping it in: approximately four.
Average money per minute: $6.80
Not bad if I do say so myself...
I haven't seen any railings about the red-haired wench in Wal-Mart who was jamming up the self-checks yet, though...I guess maybe she decided not to check us out. Can't blame a girl for trying!
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