What’s the rush? If I’m not in the express lane, I’m not in a
hurry and I’m guessing the person behind me with their overflowing
cart isn’t either. So why does the cashier start scanning the items
of the person next in line a millisecond after dumping a receipt,
bills and loose change into my palm just before she says,
”
thank you Mrs. Hands
”
?
What’s the rush? If I’m not in the express lane, I’m not in a hurry and I’m guessing the person behind me with their overflowing cart isn’t either. So why does the cashier start scanning the items of the person next in line a millisecond after dumping a receipt, bills and loose change into my palm just before she says, “thank you Mrs. Hands”? I am a person who prefers a neat and tidy wallet which is then tucked away in my purse (this requires two hands to zip closed).
So let’s run through this again, one hand is holding a receipt, coupons and possibly change. I now need to set these things down on the tiny platform and begin putting things away in my wallet. It’s a tri-fold wallet and needs to be snapped closed or everything will spill in my purse, defying the purpose of arranging it neatly in the wallet in the first place. Everyone knows you shouldn’t be fooling around with your head down in a parking lot looking for your keys, so I carry mine in my hand, ready to chirp open my car door the instant I arrive at my parking space. This means I have one more thing to carry, so walking away with my flopping tri-fold wallet, loose change, receipt and coupons is not a practical option. It’s also impossible to push a cart with all of these things in my hands. I absolutely must put everything where it belongs before I walk away.
But from the second I’m handed my receipt and change, the beeping begins and the next customer is in my personal space and making me feel like I have to rush in a disorderly fashion. It drives me crazy! Just so you know, if you are in line behind me, I’m not budging until I’m through and I’m not through just because the cashier is ringing you up prematurely. Just give me 30 seconds.
So my next dilemma is whether or not to stall a moment longer and correct the cashier who keeps calling me “Mrs. Hands.” I mean I appreciate the respectful gesture and all, but if you actually take the time to read my receipt and not just scan for the last word where the name is printed, you’d realize that’s part of the name of my business, not MY name.
This brings me to an ingenious idea. I think I’ll apply for a new “club card” and call myself something else. I’ll assume a pseudo name. If someone is going to mindlessly ramble off the words they see, then they can call me something great. I’ll smile and say, “Thanks for noticing” as I maintain my spot at the check out and pack up my things neatly. I have to turn this into something positive right? In fact, I think we should all create new names for ourselves so at least once or twice a week you can be recognized for everything you desire and aspire to be. “Thank you Mr. Hardbody.” “Thank you Mrs. Diva.” You can even call yourself the wife of your favorite actor. “Thank you Mrs. Costner.” Don’t we deserve this kind of boost? Seriously, if you’re going to call me something other than my name, let me make it a good one. Or, if you feel devilish, make up something that sounds so foolish, the cashier will feel silly saying it. “Thank you Mr. Mister.” I think we can have a lot of fun with this and it will make the process of being crowded out less annoying knowing the person behind you is about to hear your new “name.” Just imagine their surprised looks when the cashier utters, “Thank you Mr. President.”
I guess with me I just get to a point when I recognize that my frustrations are not going to be resolved unless I take the initiative to take action. This generally requires turning it into something humorous. The fact of the matter is that the cashier is never going to wait 30 seconds and the next customer in line is not going to respect my personal space.
So this is the moment I take control and change the dynamic of what occurs during this inevitable weekly encounter. I’m going to continue to stand my ground, pack my purse and let whoever is in earshot hear me referred to by my chosen name, “Mrs. Wonderful.”
