Self-Check-Out

Part 4

We try to consolidate and only do grocery shopping twice a month to save money by not purchasing more than we need.  We go to the super center where we can expediently obtain everything we need in one convenient stop.  This is a story about our last adventure of shopping.  We had a long list of items so we used the rest rooms before we got started.  Both the men and the women’s rest rooms needed serious attention.  This was early in the day on a Saturday morning. 

It took us over an hour to locate everything we needed.  A lot of this had to do with the fact that a lot of the shelves were not stocked (confectioner’s sugar, razor blades, mozzarella cheese, to list a few) and we had to ask or wait for someone to bring them out from the warehouse.  I consider this a bit unusual for mid-morning on a Saturday. 

As we made our way to the check out lines, we saw that there were five out of twenty registers opened.  We proceeded to one of the self-check-out registers.  I prefer to bag my own groceries, so it worked out well.  We spent another forty-five minutes or so, scanning, waiting for the attendant to push buttons when the computer voice instructed us to “please place item in the bagging area,” and bagging and loading the groceries back into the cart. 

We had four items left which were price match items.  This meant the attendant was needed.  We pushed the call button and a few minutes later a young woman came to assist us.  The first two items were carrots and cucumbers and she did the price override and put them in the bag.  The next item was sweet potatoes.  When she put them on the scale something malfunctioned.  She pounded the buttons and then put her hands on the scale and rested with her head down, for several minutes. 

We weren’t sure if she was having a nervous breakdown or just crying.  Finally I asked her what the problem was.  She began to push buttons again and said something inaudible and again with her head down, and hands resting on the scale, not talking, not doing anything for several minutes.  She did this one more time before a patron in need of assistance with her self-check-out came over and asked for her help.  As the cashier went to assist the other patron, she screamed, “Bobby!” right in front of us to help.

Ten minutes passed and finally “Bobby" A.K.A. Jerry Garcia, the store manager showed up.  Okay, it really wasn’t Jerry, but he had a long, gray braid and I could have sworn he was wearing a tie-dye tee shirt.  He started pounding on the buttons and plugged some gadget into the scanner.  After pressing buttons for a couple of minutes, he told the cashier she would have to re-scan everything.  He never spoke to us once.  We had been in the store for two hours and fifteen minutes at this point.  She called us over to a little quick check out and says, “Pass me the stuff and I’ll scan it.”

Excuse me, but you’ve got to be joking?  Pass you the stuff?  Are you serious?

Apparently they couldn’t override the computer to get the items we had already scanned into the system to go over to her register.  It was as if we were starting over with our check out as they all needed to be rescanned in order for us to check out.  Instead of going to a regular register and putting the groceries on a belt and scanning them in a neat and orderly fashion, we stood at this little quick check out passing one item at a time out of the bags to the cashier to scan and repacking into the bags.  We had 107 items. 

While she was scanning the items there was a young man standing their conversing with her and making comments about the items we were purchasing the whole time.  At the end, there was no apology for the inconvenience.   It was quite the adventure.

© Crackerberries 2013

Ground Meat

Part 3

Recently we went back to our local grocery store to make a purchase of a sale item we found in our weekly flyer.  The lean ground beef sale item that we wanted to purchase was no where to be found.  We called upon the butcher and he directed us to the ground beef that was on sale.  I pointed out that it was not lean, it was 73%.  He responded, “That’s what is on sale.”  I argued that this wasn’t what was advertised.  He went to get his supervisor, who concurred with the butcher that was the meat that was on sale.  It was 73/27%, not lean.  I wasn’t buying it and I protested.  The supervisor then told me he would have to get the store manager. 

The store manager was kind and agreed that the meat that was marked as the sale item was not lean ground beef.  He agreed to sell me however much I wanted (ten pounds) at the sale price as long as I would only buy half then and take a rain check for the other half.  Reason being was the store does not package their own lean ground beef (according to the manager), that they purchased it all pre-packaged.  He didn’t want me to buy all of the pre-package lean ground beef because he wanted to keep some on hand.  The sale price was $1.79/lb and the regular price was $4.99/lb.  It was a very good deal.  No problem.  I could do that. 

The rain check was only valid for two weeks from that date.  We went back to purchase the last five pounds the next week.  To our surprise the meat counter had a big sign with the words “WOW” and Fresh Lean Ground Beef on sale for $2.99/lb!  All packaged differently than it was packaged the previous week. 

The meat that they were selling as lean ground beef for $2.99/lb was 80% lean, at best.  I have purchased enough ground beef in my life to be able to tell the difference.  Of course I couldn’t prove it, and I could have just used my rain check and purchase the 80% beef.  At this point it was the statement I wanted to make.  I don’t know who I was trying to make it to.  Quite frankly the whole idea of a supermarket being dishonest to so many people really infuriated me and I wanted justice to be done.  I wanted the lean ground beef for $1.79/lb.

I decided to wait one more week to get the pre-packaged lean ground beef normally $4.99/lb for $1.79/lb, the same as I had purchased the previous week.  I waited for my advertisement flyer to come in the mail.  It didn’t come.  I had paranoid thoughts that they removed me from the mailing list—that I had been blackballed.  Not that having a printed flyer would stop me.  I went on line and looked up the sale items. 

I’ve noticed that grocery stores have away of getting around everything these days.  If the flyer says three pounds, and they don’t have three pounds, you can’t purchase two pounds for the three pound price.  The flyer did not have lean ground beef, it had lean ground round.  Ground beef, ground round, ground chuck, ground sirloin are all names that are used in place of plain old hamburger.  Why do they do that?  Why not just have plain old hamburger instead of trying to make you think you are getting something more for the money you spend.  Grocery prices are ridiculous.  I never did get the additional five pounds of lean ground beef that I was given a rain check for.

© Crackerberries 2013

Kissing in the Deli Department

Part 2

On that same day, we went to our local grocery store for something, I can’t remember what.  When we got there I noticed a young couple get out of their car.  They were holding hands as they went inside the grocery store.  I remember I thought it was sweet to see a young couple so innocently holding hands.  As we made our way to the produce isle, I saw the young couple again this time at the deli counter.  Much to my surprise the couple was two young girls, still holding hands.  Okay so no big deal, not a big surprise because this is the 2000’s.  Everyone and their sister have come out of the closet confessing to being gay.  Who isn’t?  I would have been totally fine had they not started making out with each other right at the deli counter tongue quid pro quo. 

Am I gay bashing?  Call it what you will. If it had been a girl and a boy, my opinion would still be the same.  There is a place for everything and the deli line at the grocery store is not the place for touching tongues or swapping spit.  Please do me a favor and get a room.

© Crackerberries 2013

Peeing in a Parking Lot

Part 1

I am apprehensive about leaving my house.  More times than not when my husband asks me if I’d like to go out somewhere, I choose to stay home.  Some of the things I am exposed to are very disturbing and I am fearful because I know that it is only going to get worse in the days ahead.

I remember when men opened doors for women.  Children didn’t interrupt their parents.  Men took their hats off in church and at the dinner table.  Please and thank you were used in normal conversation.  People practiced the golden rule of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.  And last but not least, if you didn’t have anything nice to say, didn’t say anything at all.

A couple of weeks ago we made our monthly trip to the local trash station.  I prefer to call it “the dump” but to protect the environment dumps have been replaced with the Collection and Recycling Centers.  After disposing of our trash and other recyclables, we stopped to gas up the truck at the place on the corner.  My husband went into the store to pay because the debit/credit card option on the pump was out of order, and I sat in the truck waiting for him. 

My attention was drawn to two young adults in a new SUV.  They were probably in their early twenties, talking and laughing.  One disappeared inside the store while the other one commenced to pump gas.  Soon the other boy joined him outside the SUV at the pump.  He was talking with his hands and laughing loudly.  The boy that pumped the gas finished, put the nozzle away, and got in the truck.  The other boy leaned up against the grill on the front of the SUV as if he was going to climb up on the bumper.  To my horrified surprise, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis and commenced to urinate.  The SUV was parked directly in front of the store in broad daylight, and he was peeing right in front of me.  I was aghast! 

I thought about the mother of that boy on our way home.  What would she think if she knew her son did that?  I thought about my son. Would my son do something like that?  I hope not.  I know we cannot blame parents for a child’s mistakes, and we cannot blame children if their parents do not teach them well.  But one hopes that someone will take the time to teach a child at a young age the difference between right and wrong.  I am not saying that peeing outside is a right or wrong thing … when nature calls one should answer it.  I think discretion should have been used.  Instead of peeing outside in front of a busy store, in front of people sitting in their cars, the young man should have at least walked out behind the store.

© Crackerberries 2013

Charlie

Had a big doggie, who’s name was Charlie

Nighttime he liked to bark, no sleep for us.

Just moved his dog house, new pad was gnarly,

Broke loose from his chain, hit by a school bus

Maybe not a bus, but car, or a truck

Whoever hit him left him there to die

Poor little doggy never had good luck

Died ‘fore I had a chance to say good-bye

I hope there’s a heaven for all my dogs

They all mean so much, hate for them to go

Next pet should be a bucket full of frogs

‘Cause I probably wouldn't miss them so

Chuck was a good dog, though he barked a lot

His brother will miss him, poor old Foxtrot.