checkout lane

Day Thirty-Seven

-I noticed a woman look around and, accepting that there were no self-checkout lanes at our store, resigned herself to coming through my lane. After seeing the stack of steamy romance novels she had with her, I fully understand her plight.

-In response to my compliment on a woman’s purchase, she informed me that ”They’re cute. They’re convenient. They’re cheap. That’s all that I look for in socks.” I am glad that we were able to live up to her justifiably high sock standards.

-I looked down the line. I saw a man in sunglasses with no nose, no mouth, no facial features, only a smooth, pale face. He then raised his head and I realized he was just a bald man resting his sunglasses on his forehead. I felt safe again.

-A woman was wearing a shirt with the slogan “Always Lead A Life Of Hope” along with a satchel, the strap of which covered the “P” in “Hope,” resulting in a very different albeit equally admirable message.

-For the duration of the transaction, a woman switched back and forth between singing to herself in a high voice and talking to me in a deep monotone. This vocal range was impressive but I want to know more about her motivations.

-The tally of elderly women who animatedly reenact the sound of the card reader beeping for me continues to increase each day.

-A guest brought their Pomeranian to accompany them during their transaction and I have made a new best friend. This pup and I have bonded for life.

-My reputation seems to be spreading. Other team members at my store have begun to share their strange stories with me. I am just grateful that I am not the only one, although I am somewhat disappointed that I am not some sort of magnet for these experiences.

-A guest brought through a basket full of items, each covered in a fine layer of what was either dust or cocaine. I do not know which it was, but my lungs were not a fan either way.

-A group of three college-aged girls came through towards the end of the night. Whether they were drunk, high, or simply having a grand old time is unknown, but one of the girls was stunned to see my manager and myself. She loudly exclaimed that we looked exactly the same. When prompted for details, she explained that we were both wearing red shirts and khaki pants. She had a point. This seemed far too unlikely to be just a coincidence. This had to have been planned ahead, like some sort of uniform. This is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my most fun transaction of the night.

I’m never going to understand the stigma that “millennials are the lazy generation”

i watched a middle-aged woman unload her cart of groceries onto the checkout counter then proceed to nudge the empty cart back down the checkout lane - blocking the entrance to the till altogether.

i’ve seen a mom carrying a basket of items and literally pick one out (that she must’ve decided against purchasing) and drop it on the nearest available surface in the middle of an aisle. i’ve seen adults go out of their way to push product back on the shelf to do this too.

i’ve seen older adults literally leave their trash and food trays on tables in food courts and restaurants when they’re done.

do i dare even contest the amount of times I’ve seen some grown-ass adult flick their cigarette butt onto the ground when there’s a specific disposal container for those barely a foot from their reach

i’m not saying all millennials are perfect, but damn I’m tired of seeing articles and studies about how millennials are exclusively all about the “””me generation”””

I helped an elderly gentleman at work yesterday and when he got to the register he was like “wait where’s my sugar?” and at first I thought he forgot to buy a bag of sugar and was about to ask if he needed help grabbing it real quick before i finished ringing him up but then his wife started wheeling down the checkout lane in her buggy and he turned to look at her like “there you are, sugar!” and honestly i think my heart increased at least 4 sizes

Biaswrecker

Summary: How to Christmas with Min Yoongi when you’re a fan of surprises and not a fan of cleaning.


DIS A REQUEST FOR MY DEAR @agustambitions

Here dah request: “ Hmmmm okay a Yoongi christmas fluff where he finds out you don’t have any set plans because you’ve never celebrated with anyone besides your family. And since you don’t live with them anymore… Anyways he invites you to spend it with the boys and showers you with love…”

WHEEE. Dis is garbage I’m sorry hun. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT

I SUCK AT FLUFF. 


“Bread, noodles, chicken, chicken broth…” You murmured your cooking list out-loud, the thick scarf that was practically a fucking curtain–courtesy of your boyfriend’s closet–muffling the words where it was wrapped over your mouth.  Shoving the piece of notepaper into your pocket, you grabbed a pack of chicken from the cooler and placed it in your basket before heading over to the checkout lanes. It was Christmas tomorrow and you needed to get the last of your groceries before the stores closed later that day.

With a brown paperbag full of groceries in either arm, you started towards your new home. It was difficult to walk properly what with the way you were bundled up to the high heavens–Yoongi would kill you if he found out that you got sick, plus, since he had gotten the garments for you, you wanted to wear them every chance you could. Well, Yoongi would kill you either way when he found out that you would be spending Christmas alone, but that was another story entirely.

Climbing the steps to your apartment, you set the groceries on the ground to unlock the door before toeing it open and transferring the bags to the kitchen counter. When you clicked on the light, the boxes littered the room like landmines in the hazards of war, the few bits of furniture that were fully put together standing like lone soldiers in the battlefield of possessions. Luckily for you, you’d gotten used to the messy display in the day or two that you’d been there–it helped that you cleared a path to the kitchen, mattress that still sat in the middle of the living room, and the bathroom down the hall. There was still a lot to do.

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Day Twenty-Six

-An elderly woman approached an empty checkout lane. After tentatively taking a few steps forward, she called out, “Is there somebody there whom I cannot see?” A cashier told her there was not, to which she replied, “That’s good, because I can usually see ghosts.” I am now mortally terrified of any ghost that this woman cannot see.

-I am beginning to notice a persistent correlation between guests purchasing baby supplies and the computer dispensing Starbucks coupons.

-A single mother came through my lane on a serious business call, accompanied by her eldest daughter who was taking care of her siblings, her middle son who tried to look tough but got very excited by stickers, and her youngest daughter who wanted to be a princess when she grew up. Now I know what it is like to be an extra in a 90s family sitcom.

-A young boy picked up a Baby Bottle Pop and smiled expectantly at his mother. When she inquired if he was serious, he simply whispered, “Yup.” He then began marching around, parading his new candy with the pride of one carrying a flag after battle, until he saw his reflection in a mirror, at which point he yelped and scurried behind his mother’s legs.

-I handed an eight year-old boy a sticker. He looked at it for a moment, then softly told me, “I think that I would like a second one for my brother, please.” This child is the most polite boy I have ever seen and he has my vote in the coming election.

-I met a man in his eighties who was wearing high-waisted jeans, a thin, brown leather belt, a mustard, olive, and maroon striped sweater, small wiry glasses, and a bright yellow bucket hat. He is my new fashion icon and I want nothing more for Christmas than a shopping spree with him as my mentor.

-My register has been freshly stocked with more seasonally-inappropriate winter stickers. However, these stickers now have perforations and the roll has slightly different dimensions. We have clearly been restocked with a new shipment of stickers, but rather than provide me with fall stickers for my people, they continue the conspiracy and give me only stickers that have no place in the present day.

-Today, I was truly blessed, as I was visited by a family as devoted to Target stickers as I am. As I handed the mother one sticker for each of her six children, I saw their eyes light up in an instant. She handed them out to each eager hand, prompting such exclamations as, “Sweet, I haven’t had this one before!” “This is going straight into my Target sticker collection!” “I finally have my first Target sticker!” and, from the five year-old who I am sure is actually employed as a Target spokesperson, “I wish I could come to Target every day to get more stickers!” I nearly teared up. Slightly swept up in the moment, I tore off a strip of twenty-five stickers which I handed to the mother, much to the delight of the children I have decided to adopt. I had to confirm that this happened with a fellow cashier, and now I will go to work every day hoping to serve the Sticker Kids.

-A man who looked as though Hagrid had lived his life out as a hermit purchased both shaving cream and a product called Beard Butter. He seemed unable to decide what path he wanted to pursue with his facial hair, but now he is prepared either way.

-A boy with a thick southern accent, an “AUSTRALIA” t-shirt, bright blue sweatpants, and knee-high cowboy boots laid across the end of an adjacent register and made some of the most intense eye-contact I have ever been an unwilling participant in.

I work as a cashier in a grocery store. Yesterday a women came to my express checkout lane and told me to process each of her items as a separate transaction. At least she only had five items but ugggh why hold up the line and make things more difficult for no real reason. She paid for each item with a credit card, so she could have easily done a single transaction.

What The Classes Are Often Thinking

Witch: aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAaaaaAaAaAaaAaAAAAAAAAAAAAa
Heir: [no thoughts in words, just complete wonder at the beauty of the world around them]
Mage: No.
Seer: Called it
Maid: I just want to buy some tea why is this the ONLY CHECKOUT LANE OPEN
Sylph: I’ll cut you if you call me simpering or weak one more time :))))
Prince: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuck it
Bard: soft kitty warm kitty little ball of fur, happy kitty sleepy kitty purr purr purr
Thief: I don’t need it I don’t need it I don’I NEEEEEED ITTTTTTT
Rogue: Did I feed my cat before I went out??? oh nO I neEd TO geT HOME and FeED my cAT [they actually did feed their cat]
Knight: I probably fucked it up but its fine lmao
Page: ADVENTUUUUUUUUUUUUURE

“A: As of January 1, 2015, employers with 50 or more full time equivalent (FTE) employees are required to provide health coverage to full-time employees or else pay a tax penalty. This is commonly referred to as the employer mandate”

This is why Walmart only has 2 out of 30 checkout lanes open at once

it means to establish ties

Valentine’s Day AU - Bellamy and Clarke both work at the grocery store

“Okay, do you want the paper sleeve or cellophane?” Clarke asked.

“Uhh,” the man stared down at the bouquet. “Which one’s cellophane again?”

“The clear one,” Clarke tugged a cellophane sheet out from the counter behind her.

“Sure, that one,” the man said. “Do you have any ribbon?”

Clarke looked at the mess of tissue paper, twine, and cellophane that had accumulated in the checkout lane behind her.

“Yeah, I can make something work.”

She did make it work, in a manner of speaking. The bouquet was technically wrapped by most operational definitions but it wasn’t particularly aesthetically pleasing. The red tissue paper was crinkled and fastened together with three strips of tape, the cellophane was cut jaggedly, and the twine was tied in a limp bow with shredded ends. Clarke never had gotten the knack of using the scissors to make curly cues. She passed the bouquet over to the man and stuffed a handful of coupons into his bag.

“Sorry about that,” she said as he turned to leave. “Have a good day!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be an art student?” Bellamy asked as he walked by.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Clarke sniped back. 

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Last night I ran a local organic supermarket out of cornbread, so I returned today to collect the fresh cornbread I knew they’d have baked this morning, a grand haul of four center pieces, no pan’s edge piece bullshit.

I got in line and ended up in the checkout lane for this one girl who saw my pile of cornbreads and told me that when she started working there, the first few times she’d seen me I’d had only one cornbread slice, and had grown slightly wary that I’d show up, grab something simple and cheap, and get in her line like a creep or something, and eventually she mentioned it to a co-worker and they told her-

“Hold up. Super tall, glasses? He does that all the time. Just cornbread, usually. I don’t know. The man likes his cornbread.”

I do.
I do like my cornbread.