EXPRESS LANE ETIQUETTE

I’ve written before about my love for express lanes. Tonight I revisited the scene of the crime for more insanity. I got to the check out area and noticed there were only two lanes open; one of which was the “only 10 items or less” express lane. I guess the express lane had the night off because there were people in that line with cartful of items plucking them out one-by-one onto the conveyer belt. Disgusted, I was actually ready to walk out of the store when I got what I thought was a great idea. The old secret weapon. The often ignored ‘Customer Service’ area. There were only two people over there so I decided I’d give it a shot.

In position number one was a lady with a receipt and no items. Behind her was a guy with only one item so I figured I’d be in and out of there. I figured wrong. I couldn’t figure out exactly what that lady was up to with her receipt but her argument took a good ten minutes to resolve and she ended up getting five dollars back. I was frustrated for not leaving the store as I had originally planned. Fortunately, the guy in front of me only took a minute with his one item. Ahhh. Finally, my turn right? That’s what I thought until some guy just walked right past me and asked the clerk for a box on the floor that was apparently his. I was stunned that he just zorched right ahead of me. I didn’t say anything because I figured he would take his box and go. Once again I figured wrong. The clerk began ringing him up for what was apparently a 12-pack of beer. I was so steamed at this guy who had an incredible nerve to just cut in line and completely ignore me. I couldn’t’ take it anymore. As he began to pay I asked him if it was his custom to just ignore people and rudely cut in front of them. He looked at me and smiled, showing his lovely blackened teeth. He claimed he was there before me. I told him I’d been standing there for 10 minutes and he was nowhere to be found until he walked right up ahead of me. “Buddy you have your head up your wazoo,” he told me. I corrected him and told him that he never even looked at me before walking right up to the front. Even worse, I told him, was his failure to admit he’d made a mistake and to do the decent thing and apologize. He began another sentence with “Buddy” but I didn’t hear it. As I walked out of the store, I told him it was a shame that he had such poor manners and I’d hoped his daughter, who was standing next to him, didn’t learn any of his bad habits.

Yeah I know; don’t sweat the small stuff. I try; but sometimes, I swear, people like that kill me and I can no longer sit there and take it. I’m taking it upon myself to point out their rudeness so maybe, just maybe, they’ll think twice the next time.