Checkout Freak Magnet

Ok, so I had the run-in with the teenage "But Are You Excited" girl at my local grocery store last weekend.

This weekend was my run-in with Irene, a check-out lady who looks to be in her late 60s...maybe early 70s. I had gone to my local Wal-Mart to purchase diapers, wipes and cleaning supplies...nothing exciting just a run-of-the-mill "buy this junk before baby comes and you are cooped up for 6 months" venture.

I forgot to take my own canvas bags into the store so I asked Irene to load up the bags, which is my request regardless of which bags I use. You see, I hate to make 5,000 trips out to the car for bags, especially when I find a bag holding a bottle of Lysol...and that is it. Or 1 box of tissue. It is not even the wastefulness that pisses me off, it is just the stupidity of only putting one 4 oz item into a bag.

Now I know there are alot of older people who want their groceries and household items bagged lightly because they are heavy and cumbersome, but I truly think the majority of people can handle carrying a fully loaded plastic bag of groceries. Even women with burgeoning bellies like me. However, I know the checkout people probably are told to err on the side of light bags so they don't get their asses chewed out by a surly 90-year-old or a lazy-ass 43-year-old.

Which is why I specifically tell whomever is bagging my stuff to "LOAD IT UP." They give me a funny look, reply, "I never hear that," and do as I've asked.

But not Irene. No Irene wants to ARGUE with me about my decision to put 4-5 spray bottles of Lysol All-Purpose Cleaner into 1 bag.

Our conversation about the Lysol (as I had already asked her to load up the bags)--
Me: "Please put all those bottles into the same bag."
Irene: "It's gonna break."
Me: "I think it'll be fine. Really, please put them into the same bag."
Irene: "It is gonna break on you, but if that is what you want to do, ok. Just don't blame me when it breaks. Mine broke 1 time carrying this much. It's gonna be your own fault when it breaks."
Me: "I think I'll be able to handle it."

Damn Bitch! You ain't my mama!

And as surreal as this was, she then commented on the nightgown I bought (for nursing purposes) by saying, "Louise and I went up to Carrolton to the outlet center there because I wanted to get some flannel pajamas but they didn't have their flannel pajamas out yet." Who the hell is Louise, Irene?????? Why do I care what kind of pajamas you wear? Please bag my shit and let me blow this joint!

So I have determined that I am becoming a magnet for the freakiest ding-bats who work in retail check-out lines.
But I am THRILLED to report that the bag of Lysol bottles withstood the immense strain of me carrying them 10 feet from my car to my kitchen island. Praise the Lord! I am so glad it all worked out because I never would have forgiven myself, I would have beaten my breast till the end of days, had the bag ripped.