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Revelaltion:
Apr. 19th, 2008 05:21 pmI can now put my finger on why I dislike shopping at Yup-Mart.
The store is clean, the meat and produce departments are well stocked (swiftly becoming my barometer of a store), and I can find the one two-toned nail polish I love most there...
But the cashiers.
Doesn't matter if the day is crammed or catatonic, the cashiers never look at me. "Hey, how you doin'." as they scan my selections, and "ThanksfuhshoppinTarge'." as they hand me my receipt, but in between? Nothing. They will chat among themselves, peering through the customers between them. But they will never look at me.
Also:
The other people shopping there. Who also never look at me, unless they're the sort of person who immediately brings to my mind the only person to ever creep me out at GenCon--the cat in the Ralph Lauren polo shirt and white cargo shorts, the white baseball cap with the fishook pin on the brim, and the painfully white smile, who tried every smoothtalking line he could think of to get me to let him into my car.
~shudder~
And gods forbid you say a pleasant hello to any of them.
The one exception to this has been the staff in the meat department, who never fail to greet me pleasantly. Maybe it's the hunks of dead flesh back in the cold, cold work-area, waiting to be divvied into steaks and arranged attractively in plastic that makes them personable to things that still have their pulse. I don't know.
The store is clean, the meat and produce departments are well stocked (swiftly becoming my barometer of a store), and I can find the one two-toned nail polish I love most there...
But the cashiers.
Doesn't matter if the day is crammed or catatonic, the cashiers never look at me. "Hey, how you doin'." as they scan my selections, and "ThanksfuhshoppinTarge'." as they hand me my receipt, but in between? Nothing. They will chat among themselves, peering through the customers between them. But they will never look at me.
Also:
The other people shopping there. Who also never look at me, unless they're the sort of person who immediately brings to my mind the only person to ever creep me out at GenCon--the cat in the Ralph Lauren polo shirt and white cargo shorts, the white baseball cap with the fishook pin on the brim, and the painfully white smile, who tried every smoothtalking line he could think of to get me to let him into my car.
~shudder~
And gods forbid you say a pleasant hello to any of them.
The one exception to this has been the staff in the meat department, who never fail to greet me pleasantly. Maybe it's the hunks of dead flesh back in the cold, cold work-area, waiting to be divvied into steaks and arranged attractively in plastic that makes them personable to things that still have their pulse. I don't know.
