The Checkout Counter

February 28, 2012

It was my infrequent sojourn to the supermarket the other day, not because I was tired of fast food, but because of that dreaded Notice from my kids’ school of a lice infestation. (Although I must admit that by now I should be tired of fast food, and based on my ever expanding waistline, I think it’s time to give up on all things that start with a “Mc”. But I digress.) I have to admit that my reluctance to go to the market may have something to do with the fact that I am single again, and honestly, I feel like a fish out of water.

See, I abhor clichés, or rather, being lumped into a specific stereotypical category; and being thought of as the “single guy” hitting on people at the grocery store just bugs me. And it doesn’t help any that the last two or three times I had been there, a very friendly girl who works there always managed to make her way to whatever part of the store I was in to see if I needed help. She is cute but young as in “I could be her father” young. But she just loves to help me. I don’t know, maybe I looked lost, or maybe she was working on her “Help the Elderly” project for school. Either way, I felt conflicted and uncomfortable in a “Hey there girlie, would you like to come see some puppies I have in my van around the corner?” sort of way.

So with all that in the back of my mind, I made my way into the store to get what I needed. I then proceeded to the checkout counter, and decided that the “15 Items or Less” line was the most appropriate for me. (On a side note, I wish there was just such an aisle for dating. I mean, a category for “baggage,” 15 Pieces or less, would be very helpful.) Now, you would think that with only a few items, there would be no need for someone to bag my groceries; but there she was, cheerful smile and all, just waiting to be of assistance. And that lasted right up until the time she actually noticed what I was buying: Rid, a fine toothed lice comb, Nix (just in case the Rid didn’t work), and some lice spray for bedding. I am sure if I had just turned to her and said “Oh, Hell, go ahead and pull my finger while you’re at it!” it couldn’t have looked any worse. Call me crazy, but on this particular occasion, I think I successfully nipped any intrigue she may have had about me in the bud.

As creepy as I may have looked, though, I am sure the guy behind me stole the show. No joke, these were the items he retrieved from his basket: Tampons, Advil, a woman’s magazine (I can’t remember which one), and some chocolate. If the items had stopped there, I am sure most would have thought “Awww, doting boyfriend/husband. He’s a keeper!!” But then he produced a package of condoms, and all I could think was “Now THAT’s determination!!!

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