Super K

2002-05-10

My trip to Super Kmart, or how I almost became a mass murder

Everything in my life has to be scheduled. I really hate that, because it completely goes against my nature. However, between work, school and what have you, that's the way it is.

So I had about an hour to buy a bridal shower gift for my friend. I also had to buy some food, especially produce, so I could replace the rotting blobs in my fridge with new ones. I love the idea of buying produce and eating healthy, I just never seem to do it. Anyway, I had found some food, and something that would do for a gift. I even remembered gift wrap, so I was mentally patting myself on the back as I rolled up to the check out area.

I should probably point out that I have a history with SuperK. It's the only grocery store by my house, but every time I go there I swear it will be the last. My neighborhood contains mostly immigrants, so SuperK always looks like a market in downtown Beirut/Mexico City/Karachi etc.

There is a lot of psychology that goes into picking a line. I know for a fact that it doesn't matter what I pick, the moment I stand in any line is when the service light starts flashing and a manager is called to assist the cashier. That day was no different. I tried to change lines, but suddenly all the other lines were so much longer. The woman at the counter "swears" that the tennis shoes on the counter are priced at $19.99, not $89.99. The cashier called for backup, who took their own sweet time in coming. After what seemed like 20 minutes of arguing, the woman was convinced that the shoes are indeed $90, so she left empty handed. During all of this, I exchanged knowing looks with the family in front of me. I really felt like we had developed an unspoken bond, that we silently united against people like the sneaker woman.

After the sneaker woman left in a huff, the family unloaded their cart. They had groceries, house wares, some kids clothing. Everything was going swimmingly until the cashier got to the two bath rugs at the end. They, of course, had no price. Once again, backup was summoned. The cashier had to call the house wares department to describe the rugs. Instead of saying "I have two rubber-backed magenta bath mats, one is approximately 2' x 3', the other is 18" x 30", could you please find a price?" instead she said "I got two purple rugs. One's big, one's small". Shockingly, the person on the other end of the phone could not find the rugs. He had to come up to the front and look at them. When he finally arrived, I noticed that his nametag read "Blueshawn". I thought about that for a bit, about whether or not it was his real name. Then I thought about how maybe his mother gave birth to a Redshawn and a Greenshawn also. Blueshawn explained that he normally worked electronics, so the cashier would have to call someone else. The next person found a rug similar to the large rug, plus one of an in between size. The family says that they will take the large and in-between rugs.

I was fine up until this point. I had mentally prepared myself for my SuperK experience. I knew that all of this was coming.

The cashier rings up the rugs, and totals the order. Then came the moment of ultimate betrayal. I had forgiven the unmarked merchandise. But I could not forgive this. The family changed their minds about the rugs. So the cashier had to delete and re-enter the order. Then they did it again. And a final, third time.

The third time was indeed a charm. It looked like it was my turn, until the mother of the family threatened to have a temper tantrum because SuperK did not have bags big enough for her tiresome magenta bathmat. I came very close to offering to carry it to her car for her, but didn't.

On the way home, I think I came very close to experiencing road rage. Now I know where it comes from.

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