I hate going grocery shopping by myself. For some reason, ALL of the grocery stores in New York seem... backwards. I wander around, dazed and confused, throwing random things into my cart and trying to find my way to the check out line and then inevitably, turn in the wrong direction on my way out and wind up having to backtrack to get to the door. Meanwhile, Dan sits in the truck and abandons me to feel foolish all by myself.
There is nothing worse than feeling foolish by yourself.
Yesterday, after our fabulous dinner, we went to the grocery store. (It is necessary for Dan to make these trips with me because honestly? I don't want to carry all those bags upstairs. It didn't take me long to figure out that the only thing I want to carry upstairs is my purse.) Dan was so bloated and stuffed that he didn't want to go in, so once again, I was dropped off at the front door of a strange grocery store where everything was back-assward and STRANGE.
In I went, planning on picking up a few things and being done in about half an hour, tops. Long story short, an hour and a half and $195 later I had finally found the check-out line. (We won't discuss the 15 minutes I spent in the express lane without realizing it until the bored and bitchy checker pointed it out... AFTER I had unloaded half my cart. People behind me tapped their feet impatiently and sighed while I did the re-load of shame and slunk off to a different line.)
By this time, my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and I was sweating slightly, due to the highly stressful situation I was in. Unloading my grocery cart IN THE WRONG LINE, y'all... I was THAT PERSON.
Meanwhile, I re-unloaded and stood by casually, as if I hadn't just made an ass out of myself. The checkout girl finished ringing me up and said, "Card."
Her: Card, please.
Me: I'm paying cash.
Me: *nervously handing her two $100 bills*
Her: *accepting them but continuing to look at me as if she were dealing with a very slow person* Do. You. Have. Your. Card?
Me: What card?
Her: Your Price Chopper card.
Her: DO you have a Price Chopper card?
*insert rustling and complaining from the line behind me*
Me: No, I don't have one.
Her: Do you have your license?
Me: *handing it over*
Her: *long pause* This is from California.
Me: I know. We just moved here.
Her: Oh. Well, I don't think I can accept this.
Me: I'm paying CASH!
Her: I was going to give you a discount card.
*insert rustling, sighing, and complaining from longgggg line behind me*
Her: Hang on, I'll call the manager.
*insert loud bitching and moaning from line behind me*
Another line opens, just for the purpose of getting people out of the line behind me, the slow, stupid, Californian.
Her: *whispered consultation with manager*
Manager: Is this all you have?
Me: I don't need a card. I just want the groceries.
Manager: Well, with the card you would have saved $13.95.
Me: If I can't have it, then I can't save anything, right? Heh. Heh.
Me: *avert gaze*
Manager: Well, we can accept this and give her a temporary card but when she gets her New York license she will need to come in and change it.
Me: Thank you. (For what? FOR WHAT? Saving me $13.95 without asking me if I wanted to? GAHHHH!)
Transaction completed, I head for the wrong side of the store. I flip a U-turn by the frozen foods and head back in the other direction. There has to be a damn door somewhere!!! I'm red faced, sweating, my ears are ringing...
Manager, catching me on the rebound: Have a nice day. Remember, bring in your New York License when you get it.
As if I will EVER enter this store again.
Unfortunately, having made an ass of myself in all three stores I've been to, I'm kind of running out of options.
Pull your head out of your ass, New York stores!! The door goes on the other side!!!