On Target (part 1)

Cashiering would seem to be the province of the swift, friendly, and accurate.

Yet today, I was checked out at my town's new Super Target by a mostly silent older woman, name of Nadine, who likely lived a previous life as a good and moral sloth, and thus earned reincarnation into a higher, yet not any speedier, form.
I felt like my blood itself might have turned to vinegar between the time that she asked me for my ID because I had dared to purchase a bottleful of Yellowtail Shiraz (pedestrian, I know, but it has a nice bite and does the trick besides of fuzzing and furring the sharp edges of consciousness) and the time when she finally, with a lethargic stuffing of bananas into concentric-circle-dotted plastic, completed my purchase.
As she sloooooooooooooooooooowly scanned and dragged my merchandise across a filthy rectangle of glass, I had time to rate and rank every male person within a 50 yard radius according to level of attractiveness to my peculiar likings. I also had time to admire one guy's yellow Heavy Metal Karaoke shirt, as well as consider and choose a song, "Still Lovin' You" by the Scorpions, that I would perform should I ever get the chance to enter such an event. I might well take the $150 prize, I mused.
It probably didn't help that my g-damn underwear was too loose and was falling off my ass, held on only by the gentle caress of my thighs in twain. Apparently, the constraints of money and time allowed me to lose a pound or two, but not to purchase correctly-fitting underwear.
I did not foresee that a simple trip to Syooper Tarzhay for olives, wine, and mushroom "purse" appetizers would be such an opportunity to deal with repressed anger. Though I wanted to shout out, "STEP OUT FROM BEHIND THERE, SLOVENLY SLATTERN, AND LET ME PLY MY HANDS TO THE TASK!" a few dozen times, I did not, even once, utter it.
{Here at Overthunk we only blog about the issues within a hair's breadth of your blood-filled heart, so this shall be the first in a Targeted series. And yes, the Yellowtail Shiraz is quite nice, thank you.}
Done, done, and I'm onto the next one.
-- D. Grohl


Amandarama said…
The Yellowtail merlot makes a lovely sangria.

I hate slow checkout people almost worse than Hitler. Almost.

And, I need to see if this "Heavy Metal Karaoke" exists in New England, otherwise I may just have to content myself with the release of "Rock Band" for the Xbox 360 in the coming weeks.
Camplin said…
Ah Target, I remember working there for a year while in grad school. It was either Walmart or Target: I picked Target for the graphic design. I wanted to work at an attractive business and they always have a great look. I hope I am through with retail life by January.
Azathoth100 said…
Ok folks, it's about that time of year, the time when I get ready to start my X-mas cards only to realize my crappy ol computer deleted all my address list, which means what I need is for youse folks to e-mail me and end me your adresses and names of folks who I only may know through blog names (Hubby's, Kids, ect..). This is for private info, I won't be sharing those info in case your worried. But I am a big one for doing the card thing (even if you don't celebrate, in which case you get the more generic 'enjoy the season' card). So if you could drop a line and let me know it would be much apriciated. (I was gonna e-mail this out, but am not sure everyone here wants thier e-mail made public, so I'm doing this the old blogger way. My E-mail is:
Ari said…
Amanda: Pretty much you can't go wrong with Yellowtail as far as I've drunk.

Camplin: If you worked there a year, you are but a whelp, my friend. More details on that to come.

Aza: Roger that.
random moments said…
Yellowtail was my first wine tasting. Good memories.

Target is just as bad as Walmart these days. If its not the elderly sloths, its the ill-tempered teens who can't get through your transaction in 15 minutes or less because they have to chat with their neighbor cashier about their boy problems.

Bitter much? I am.
Azathoth100 said…
Yep, seems like target and Wal-Mart are good at finding employees who move at negative speed. But then again, if I worked there perhaps I'd realize what my life had become and begin trying to spread the non-love as far as I could too.

Breaking me Down... D. Grohl
Violet said…
Yeah... I guess when you're getting paid by the hour, there isn't a whole lot of motivation to move faster. I'm glad nobody got hurt.
Camplin said…
I figured working retail was less important than my gradschool, so I quit. Of course, now I am at Starbucks, but I will be teaching soon. Yeah!
I've often held a bottle of Yellowtail, but I've never made it to the checkout line with one.

I always opt instead for Electric Reindeer White.
Ari said…
RM: Around our fair burgh, Walmart is always worse. I have been to some bad Targets though.

Aza: Hard to believe, but my working class work ethics kicked in even as a teen -- I tried to get people out of there quickly.

Violet: I guess I figure the motivation to go faster should be accepting a paycheck and giving a shit about doing a good job. My standards are often too high though.

Camplin: Retail is to grad school as crushed carmine beetles were to Cleopatra's lipstick -- a horrific, yet necessary part of the process.

LBB: Try Yellowtail I say! Try a nice glass of their merlot with a side of donuts....

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