It’s early.
I’m in a very long check-out line at Duane Reade with only one register open, my arms filled with items.
A can of Comet I’m holding, falls to the ground. A man behind me picks it up.
“You need a cart,” he says.
“See, I do this is on purpose,” I say, “only buy what I can carry.”
I smile…he does not.
The little Latino cashier, with enough cleavage to stop a train, calls out, “The system is a little sluggy…please be patient. Happy Easta.”
A woman ahead of me dressed all in black says,” It’s Good Friday, for heaven’s sake, not Easter…a very sad day.”
She turns around, shaking her head. “You’d think they’d teach them that.”
“Look,” I say, “in a day or so, all will be well. Think of Good Friday like a movie you’ve seen and already know the end to.”
“That’s an awful way to put it.”
My Comet drops again.
The man behind me picks it up.
“NEXT!”
I watch the woman pay, almost decapitating the credit card machine taking her Visa out.
“You wanna a receipt?” the cashier asks.
She does not.
My Comet falls a third time.
The man picks it up and slams it on the counter.
“LEAVE IT THERE,” he says.
When it’s finally my turn, the cashier picks up a jar of conditioner I’m about to buy.” You like this?”
“Yes, it’s good for split-ends.”
“Wanna receipt?”
“I do.” This seems to please her.
I can’t help but to smile at this overdressed, underpaid, good-hearted girl.
“Happy Easta,” she says.
“And a Happy Easta to you.”
I leave without my Comet, still sitting, like a lost child, on the counter. 
SB
Just came back from our local grocery store. We were there early around 9-ish. Not many cars in the parking lot but by the time we were ready to check out so was everyone else. It must have been “senior” day. Purple hair galore. I love looking at people’s carts (and I often carry stuff so I don’t overbuy too). It’s like peeping in their windows to see what they eat.
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Maybe it’s because, it’s a holiday. Packed, everywhere. I too like to peek at other people’s parcels. Always very telling. Happy Easta Kate…:)
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Purrs from the group.
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Please send Mollie, Morgan, Hazel and Gracie my best.
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I have drawn on John Cleese for inspiration lately in dealing with these matters.
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A true sage that John 🙂
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Sad but true.
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Move over Socrates. Stuff it Plato. Make room for that silly walk.
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I love it when he explains Manuel by stating that he is from Barcelona. Even better when one guests says that she fails to see what that has to do with anything.
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I love Monty Pylon.
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😇 hope you have a wonderful Easter Miss Bianchi 😽
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Thanks Mr.Coyote, you too.
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Not to be confused with Peter Coyote 🤠😁
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I would never make that mistake. 🙂
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There is nothing in the world like a thingirl story! Happy Easta to you!
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I am saying Happy Easta all over the place…:)
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Susannah, I can’t even imagine not using a cart. A basket would be equally useless for me.
Yesterday’s grocery receipt was $248.83! Usually it’s between $180-210. Easter breakfast and dinner brought the cost up. My four children and their families all live nearby and have dinner here once or twice each week. Oh yeah, and my two sons have each moved back temporarily.
Some day I’ll only be cooking for two again and can stand in line with a half filled basket.
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You’re such a great Mom….
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I usually try to buy only what I can carry, but like you, I sometimes have to juggle while standing in line. H gets a cart when he goes in for just a loaf of bread. Then he comes out with a cartful! I guess he hates to waste the space. Happy Easta to you Susannah!
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and to you too.
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Hahaha! Something tells me that poor Comet was jumping for joy to be left behind.
Did the woman in front of you realize there was a very good chance she could have been crucified if your hands weren’t full?
Happy Easta indeed!
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LOL…she was one of those pissy pious types who thinks Love Thy Neighbor is just a rumor.
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Oh, I know that type all too well. They come out in full force on religious holidays.
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I know. It’s true. They’re holy only on Xmas and Easter.
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Maeve tries the “only buy what you can carry” tactic too. The result is that we have hundreds of hessian shopping bags in the boot of the car.
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That’s so funny. Welcome back.
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Sorry I was ever away. I missed your good-natured humour.
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I’m sure it was also nice to have a rest from it.
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This scene almost seems like it should be from a sitcom, although maybe it’s just the way you write it. You sure you don’t just make this all up? In any case, I love it. 🙂 Happy Easter to you, even if it’s Tuesday.
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Remember, New York is one big sitcom David. You can’t make it up…:)
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So that’s why the shopping cart was invented – not for customer convenience but to get you to buy more. Clever ploy, and it works too.
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LOL
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I love this post and have read it daily since Good Friday. It makes me smile and sometimes laugh out loud. It’s witnessing posts like this that make me thankful you write about your own slices of life. Thank you and Happy Easta!
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Well, it looks as if you’re still celebrating Easter, you little Dickens you. 🙂
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The man was an idiot. A beautiful woman in front of me drops something. I pick it up. The second time, I set it on the counter, or better put it in my cart and hold it for you. That would earn me one of your million-dollar smiles. He’s an idiot.
Scott
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Well, Happy belated Easta to you anyway…:)
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