Picking the Wrong Line

Something has changed.  I was such a good line picker.  In a split second, I could size up the number of shoppers ahead of me, the relative labor intensity of their basket (including the number and variety of produce that the checker may not know - "Hank, is this kohlrabi?  Could you do a price check?"), and the perceived speed and skillset of the checker him/herself.  I knew at a subconscious level to avoid the line with the shopper who was going to bitch about "the sign said $0.49 and it rang up as $0.53.  I know this was on sale last week.  The sign was still up so you have to honor the price.  You need to take off 4 cents."  I could smell these people.  (For the record, they smell a lot like kohlrabi).

What has changed of late is the variable I did not account for.  I seem to be choosing the lines with the most extroverted H-E-B employees.  Consistently.  Not just the "Is your day going well so far?" and "did you find everything you were looking for?" people.

And to answer, yes, my day is generally going well so far, and no, I did not find everything that I was looking for.  Do any of us ever find all that we seek?  I plan to go to the store knowing that I will leave with something unfulfilled in my life.  Something to continue to strive for.  Like finding orange flavored G2, which seems to only be sold at one H-E-B. 

No, I get the ones who want to engage me in conversations about my purchases, and even my life choices.

"Oh, I've wanted to try that.  Is it good?"
"Do you have any recipes for cooking this?"
"Great choice! Those clementines are extra sweet."

First of all, get your hands out of my clementines.  Second, I do not want to answer questions about my purchases.  I do not want to share recipes with you.  I am buying my groceries.  Don't make me take my 57 items to the Self Check-Out.  I'll do it.

You see, I was an H-E-B checker back in the day.  With the "day" being 1981 though 1986.  And yes, part of that was before the scanner, back when checking groceries was back-breaking, mentally taxing and emotionally draining work.  Or at least when we had to use the keypad a lot more.

My checking groceries philosophy was very similar to my waiting tables philosophy.  Give people their food and leave them the fuck alone.  Which is how I want to be treated.  Be polite, professional, and as much as possible, quiet. 

Sure, there were many times when I could tell what was going on by what they were buying, but no one wants to hear "two steaks, a bottle of wine and a box of condoms?  Someone is getting lucky tonight!"  Or "I see you are buying Pepto Bismal, Kaopectate, chicken broth and the economy size toilet paper pack.  I know where you will be spending your weekend!"

So I expect the same restraint and discretion from my H-E-B checkers.  It's shopper/checker privilege, or something. 
I find that politely and succinctly answering the questions usually cuts off longer conversations.  "Yes, my day is fine."  "Yes, I found everything."  [I lie].

But my H-E-B checker this past visit was not deterred.
Actual questions she asked me:
"Which of these are you cooking tonight?"
"Are you having people over?"
"What's your favorite thing to cook?"
"What's your favorite thing ever?"
"Were you in the military?"

Steak.  No.  I don't know.  I don't know.  What????

"I just thought from the black shirt you are wearing that you used to be in the military.  What is your favorite television show?"

By this time, she'd already finished my order and was about three people beyond me.  We talked for another 25 minutes before I could disengage.

The guy after the woman after me was buying some type of beer product.  I looked a little closer (still talking to my H-E-B friend, I think at this point about my mother).  He was buying "Budweiser and Clamato Picante."  I am NOT making this up.  There is a beverage that combines beer, tomato juice and clam.  And I am assuming there are different flavors of the beer, tomato juice and clam beverage, with spicy being one choice.  Probably Budweiser and Clamato Sour Cream and Onion would be another.

It's as if someone put all of the types of food and beverage into a computer and programmed it to spit out four random items.  That's what we will make and sell!  Kraft's new Apple kohlrabi salmon cider with marshmallows! 

But did she ask him about his clam-based beer and serrano beverage?  Of course not. And I plan to point that out to her when she calls next time.