The Forge

I hate people who entertain stereotypes about other people. They're all idiots. And yet, most of the time, they're also accurate. Or believable. Or maybe I'm just gullible. Whichever it is, I'm one of them. And working at a grocery store, how can I not be? There are just some people who, the moment you look at them, you can tell exactly what kind of person they are and what odd demands they will be making of you. And so, to aid all the cashiers-to-be, I've constructed the following short list of five people you're bound to run across while robotically swiping barcodes over lasers.

This is part one of five. Obviously.

Evelyn McGurney, 75 years old. Looks like she's about 95 years old. Smells like she's about 5 years dead. Evelyn lives alone, unless you include the forty or so cats she owns, and the twenty or so who show up every time she sets out food. Of the latter group, Evelyn is blissfully unaware. Mrs. McGurney moves slowly. As she unloads her cart, forgets what she is doing, and then returns to unloading her cart, you have time to clean your conveyor belts, return any unwanted items to their proper places, fly to Japan, or count the hairs on Mrs. McGurney's face. She will, incredibly, finish and as she slowly pushes her cart closer to you the scent of, well, unwashed cats will begin to perforate your nostrils. And I know what perforate means. You wipe the traces of sushi from your face and finish counting the facial hairs (137, by the way) and turn your attention to the items. You are astonished to discover an enormous bag of dry cat food, and an even larger box of kitty litter, sitting near the end of the belt. Closer to you is a staggering quantity of tin canisters, each loaded with an equally unappetizing pinkish substance that is either Salmon, Herring, Chicken, Beef, or Human-flavored, and each boasting with brightly-colored label that the contents are somehow "new and improved." Naturally, the cans are curved just tightly enough that the laser refuses to properly interpret the barcode, and thus each can must be swiped perhaps 18 times before registering. An hour later, you arrive at the dry food bag, and when you go to pick it up you realize it's much lighter than you expected. This, of course, is because all the food has leaked out and left a trail from aisle 7 to your register. Evelyn is good at picking the one bag with a hole in it. You put the bag aside, call courtesy to acquire a new bag for you, and pick the kitty litter box up. Hoist, actually, because this container is incredibly heavy. A loud thud resounds as you drop the box into just the right place for the laser to scan it, and then try to remove it quickly. You get the box off the glass (which now looks slightly cracked), but not before it scans a few more times, meaning you must void the item manually (which means, for those unacquainted with the process, hitting a button and then swiping the item back over the laser) at least twice. You slap a sticker on the box, at which point you realize that Evelyn has zoned out while staring into the display monitor and therefore you must take the fifty or so cans of cat food and bag them yourself. You go to total it, and find that, due to the high value of voided items, you must call a member of the courtesy staff over to insert their special key into your register, slap you, apologize to Evelyn McGurney, and then return to the courtesy counter. You take the check (Evelyn always uses checks) from your saintly patron and run it through the machine. You then take the receipt, along with the 2.5 miles of coupons for feline products the machine has spit out at you, and fold them nicely together. You turn around to hand Evelyn this pleasant bundle, and let out a stifled gasp upon noticing that somehow, the kitty litter box of death has made its way into her cart. Exasperated and confused, you mumble "Have a nice day," to which she responds by staring at the receipt. An impatient customer gently prods Evelyn out of the way, and thus ends your encounter with what can only be described as something like an 80s music video.