Something to do with buying four candy bars and not getting the fifth one for free as the coupon suggested she should. Then, with the help of the cashier, a manager and a bag boy, that issue was resolved. When everything was resolved as to what the bill should be, just then did she begin to search her suitcase sized purse for the all allusive debit card.
Have you ever heard that term, "Ready Golf"? I'm not a golfer, but once while participating in a tournament for slackers (a Best Ball style arrangement), a co-worker explained to me this concept of playing ready-golf. The idea being that, you don't want to rush the group of golfers in front of you, but by God, as soon as they have cleared the green, you should be ready to take your next shot.
I have applied this "ready-golf" idea to all things in life. For example, if you are at a stop light, you should be ready to go when the light turns green, not when you finish your nails or changing radio stations. And thus, we find ourselves in HEB standing in line behind a lady who already has her bagged groceries in the cart, has the full attention of a cashier, a manager and a bag boy, and she is just now thinking about how she might pay for this little transaction.
We got the sympathetic and knowing look from the lady in front of us who was stuck like chuck, the same as us.
Meanwhile, as the lady is pulling out receipts and notes and yellow sticky's and feminine products, her kid has grabbed a box of candy from the counter and opened it and wandered off to eat it. The manager casually rang up a similar box of candy and added the cost to the bill. Here, Everything's Better.Thankfully, the manager did some sort of technique where he could suspend the transaction, pull the lady aside and let our cashier get the line moving again, and of course, just then the lady found her debit card along with some important documents relevant to The Da Vinci Code. Not quick enough my dear; had you learned to play "ready-shopping" you wouldn't have had to go to another register to finish your transaction.
8 comments:
Great post! I once went off on a woman like you describe at the IH10/Wurzbach "HootchieB" where all the strippers shop. After dropping F and C-bombs on her I started to fear that management might call security but instead got polite applause. These people need to be woken up to the existance of other people on this planet.
A Taser is appropriate I would think.
The "HootchieB" where all the strippers shop... I had no idea! That is just too funny.
I'm glad you got the polite applause. I keep my wife with me on such occasions; she's ready to throw-down with impolite hootchies or HEB Security as necessary.
Gee, the I-10/Wurzbach HEB is my HEB. Never heard it was called the "HoothieB" before! I have heard of the "GucciB" (Central Market) and the "WannaB" (Oak Park) HEB's but never this one. I love it! We've gotta get goin' on a clever one for the I-10/ DeZavala one!
People do need to be on top of things. Keep your debit card/checkbook in the SAME place in your purse or pocket and voila! no more digging for gold while a line waits. Grrrr.
I agree I always say out loud at times.Let me get my debit card and Lic ready so I won't hold up the line and hope that the person in front of me listens to me telling Dave this and do the same. She reminded me of the girl in the breakfast club movie that turns her purse over and all this crap falls out. Things you see when you don't have a gun....Holy begebas.
sid--I always think of the DeZavala one as "Birdy-B" from all the grackles and the supposed bird-repellant speakers outside that usually make more of a racket than the real birds.
410 and Valley Hi is the "Dirty-B", and IH10 and Boerne Stage is "Empty-B", at least when we go there.
Valley Hi is the "Dirty-B"... Man, you got that right!
The little old HEB at Nacogdoches and N. New Braunfels is the AARB.
Almost forgot that one.
I hated getting stuck in those narrow aisles behind cranky retired butts.
We're trying to visit every HEB in town eventually--there's always an interesting 'local flavor' that becomes apparent after just a few minutes, yet hitting the ones across Texas like in Port Isabel (Free Hawaiian Tropic Bimbo Calendars!) or Houston (My food is melting!) always feels really weird.
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