When I was in high school and college I worked as a grocery store check-out clerk. I was friendly. I would chat with my customers. I had regulars. In fact, for as much as I fear talking to strangers, I became a different person when working in customer service. Itâ€™s almost like I put on my Sassy Bad alter-ego, Viv, when I worked with customers. Someone would come through my line with tortillas, cheese, and tomatoes in their cart and I would say, â€œHmmm, someoneâ€™s making burritos tonight!â€
Itâ€™s that Midwestern, Marge Pearson, charm deep within me.
Anyhow, there were times when I couldnâ€™t make any sense what so ever of the context of someoneâ€™s purchases â€“ especially the late night crowd when people were more likely to be picking up â€˜just a few things,â€™ and the items in any given basket were more eclectic.
Like the time one guy bought toilet paper, a bottle of mustard, and some dental floss.
Doesnâ€™t that just make you laugh? Not even a little? The complete randomness of it? Okay, so maybe I have a strange sense of grocery store humor from working in the industry.
At any rate, in my childish paranoia that other people are just like me, I was glad to be able to take my random assortment of purchases through the â€˜self-checkâ€™ line at my local grocery store last night. Because, well, wouldnâ€™t YOU wonder what was going on at my house?
Okay, again, maybe Iâ€™m just a little strange.
(Oh, and if youâ€™re paying attention, the test came out negative.)