Thursday, April 12, 2018

Veiled (Or Not) Judgement

Sometimes, people can be overly familiar. Take it from Val, the original (and high-powered) weirdo magnet.

Monday was Walmart day, and the checker kind of overstepped her bounds, IMO. Sure, the policy is to ask a customer if they found everything okay, or comment on some item to make small talk. I'm used to that intrusion. In fact, this checker asked me if I found everything okay, and I said, "Yes, I did." Figuring that would put an end to the chit-chat, so The Inquisitor could go on with her duties of ringing up my items and getting me out of there.

As with most things in Val's life these days...my check-out experience did not go as planned.

"Oh, is this good?" The Inquisitor held up a Blue Bunny Load'd Sundae. An individual ice cream treat, this one being Chocolate Brownie Bomb.

"Yes. I only found them last week. They're delicious."

The Inquisitor spun my Blue Bunny around, looked at it from every angle. If she'd had one of those flat wooden spoons, I daresay she would have popped off the top to sample it.

"Don't look at the calories!"

Excuse me. Is it now the job of the Walmart checker to fat-shame customers? Like how a few years ago, the optometrist started asking if you had guns in your house? I think we are giving employees too many cross-over duties! Let's get back to the basics. Let each employee do the single job that they were trained for!

Seriously. I wanted to tell that old gal, "Oh, I don't care about the calories! Next time, I'm going to get one of each flavor, and eat them one after the other!" But I didn't.

I'm glad I wasn't buying Preparation H.

Tuesday, I was in line at the Gas Station Chicken Store. Buying only my 44 oz Diet Coke, and a single $5 scratcher (loser, keeping my recent streak alive). I was next. Standing right there at the glass-top counter where the scratchers are kept, a box of impulse purchase items to my left.

A dude came in and got in line next to me. He looked at those impulse items, which this week happen to be individual slices of Hostess Iced Lemon Cake.


Dude pulled up his gray t-shirt to expose his belly. He rubbed it. There might or might not have been some bullet hole scars there. I was trying not to stare.

"They always get sumpin' to temp us fat people!"

Um. Yeah. Thanks so much. It's a wonder I can fit through the door, I guess.

Do you think it was just a trick to see if I'd pull up my shirt? That he was flirting with me, and wanted to roll off into the sunset with me in his heavy-duty truck?

13 comments:

  1. I'd have at first wondered what "sumpin" was and if it was really good. In Jersey we say "Sumtin."

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    1. you Jersey people make me laugh. My ex the 2nd can't say the word haunted, he says hointed, so I told him he should move to Joisey.

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    2. Sometimes, "sumpin'" ain't nothin' but a good-working pump in the basement.

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  2. Replies
    1. It's my weirdo-magnetic attraction, I guess. Or my inescapable gravitational field.

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  3. I remember making small talk with my customers, it was expected of us, we were told to and ordered to smile, anyway I did all that while I scanned and bagged groceries, even commenting on some items, but never mentioned calories. We did discuss how to cook certain things, I'd make suggestions, but only if they asked. The customers loved me, especially the older ones because I packed their groceries well and didn't overload their bags so they weren't too heavy, even lifted the filled bags into their carts.
    I did notice though, if a customer wasn't the chatty sort and didn't talk so much myself.
    I don't know what to say about the tubby shirt-lifter though.

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    1. Thank goodness you never lifted your shirt if the customer looked like he'd enjoy an individual slice of Iced Lemon Cake!

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  4. That dude was hitting on you. I had a similar experience at the casino. A woman walked up to me and said, "What? You following me?" I said, "No, I'm just standing here." She said, "You were just at The Alton Belle>" As I shook my head no, she reached out and rubbed my shoulder and arm and said, "I recognize your blouse." Val, I am in contention with you for weirdo magnet.

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    1. I will gladly give up my title and let you carry the weirdo magnet torch!

      At least you got hit on by a (possible) high roller. The last time a woman rubbed my arm and said I was "SO PRETTY," it was in Save A Lot. My would-be suitor was on a budget.

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  5. Maybe he was trying to show off his bullet hols scars and was wondering if you had any, you know "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" you never know he might have shared an Iced Lemon Cake with you after the showing...

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    1. ACK! Too bad the impulse purchase this week wasn't Eye Bleach.

      Or he might have bought me my own piece!

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  6. Good lord, Val, can't you recognize when you're being hit on?

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    1. No. I'm out of practice. Used to be, they were more direct. Showing me more than just a belly.

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