The Day Sam's Club Broke my Spirit

I didn’t feel well. Al didn’t either. We didn’t really need anything, but Al wanted them and I could only get them at Sam’s Club. Normally, I use our business membership to Sam’s Club. This means that I can go as early as 7:00 a.m. No one is in the store, and the checkout is really easy. Again, though, I didn’t feel well and had slept in that morning. If a man could plead with his eyes for organic fig newtons, then this is what Al was doing. So, I set off for Sam’s Club at 11:00 on a Saturday morning.

The parking lot was rockin’. No big deal, though. I found a place to park and hoofed it to the door. As soon as I entered, there was a gentleman ping ponging himself through all of the carts. I would go for a cart, and he would shoot in front of me. Perhaps he thought I was going to get the best one? After two attempts, I said excuse me. He appeared a bit miffed, but he moved to the side. I got my cart, and I left the gentleman to his cart antics.

I flashed my Sam’s card at the lady and boogied towards those organic fig newtons. Netwon mission accomplished! I’m thinking to myself, “This hasn’t been that difficult.” I swooshed over to the fruit section to see what was available. The grapes looked fantastic, so I picked some out. I remembered that Sam’s carries those little balls of lip balm called EOS. A friend’s kid was having a birthday, and I knew that the kid loved those things. So, off I sped to the beauty aisle. If the kid likes one EOS, she’s bound to love them in bulk. Done!

I turned towards the cash registers. I didn’t have to move much. The lines were unreal. I selected a line, and I began to wait. And wait. And wait. Throughout the wait, I would look in my cart and think, “Do I really want any of this?” Then I would remember Al’s pleading eyes. And, the kid would probably be pretty happy, too, so I stayed in the line. As I inched closer, I began to wonder if this was what the intake line for hell is like? Perhaps. I finally managed to get close enough to put my three items on the conveyer belt. Whoop! Whoop!

At this point, I was close enough to hear the cashier talking to the customer in front of me. This customer was the only thing standing between me and getting home. I checked out the customer’s selections. There was an assortment of cheese so large that I probably wouldn’t poop for a month if I ate it all. There were chips piled high like crispy treasures. Mmm. Also, there was a lot of red meat. I counted 10 packages easily. I noticed that the customer in front of me was ready with debit card in hand. He wanted out of there. But, his selections weren’t moving very quickly from conveyor belt to buggy. What the hell?

“Oooh! You sure are buying a lot of chips. Are you having a party? What kind of party? Am I invited?” This is what I heard coming from the cashier. She would select one bag of chips, and then she would carefully and painfully read all about each bag. Each. Bag. After carefully inspecting all of the chips, she moved on to the massive pile of meat. “How many people are you going to feed with this meat? Do you have kids? How many?” Umm, I had been in this line for 30 minutes, and this is no exaggeration. I could tell the customer in front of me was irritated with the cashier. As the cashier was handling a giant package of red meat, I saw her thumb punch through the plastic. I let out an audible gasp. The customer looked shocked. The cashier looked at it, scanned it, and put it in the buggy. She had punched her thumb through the plastic wrap on the meat, and she was going to try and ignore it. Of course, the customer had to get another package, and then a manager came over. It took forever.

It was finally my turn. I looked at the conveyor belt that still had some red meat juice glistening on it, and I watched as the chatty cashier slowly dragged my grapes through the red meat juice. I began to cry. It wasn’t a sob. There really wasn’t any noise. Silent tears just fell down my face. The cashier had broken me. She looked up at me and immediately asked me what was wrong. With tears still flowing down my cheeks I said, “You are so bad at your job that you have made me cry.” And then? She stopped smiling.

I choked out why I needed some new grapes because E. Coli? No thank you. She hurled my tiny amount of groceries into the cart with such force and energy that I believe I saw my hair blow in the breeze her activity was creating. I was a bit shocked she could move that fast. I paid for my purchases and went to the car.

I made it home, and Al was pleased that I had managed to find his favorite fig newtons. He asked, “What took so long? You didn’t get much.” I told him my story. He gave me a hug, and I felt him chuckle. He said, “Sam’s Club broke your spirit.” It was really silly when I thought about it. It wasn’t that big of a deal–a minor inconvenience.  Why had I cried? I think I just didn’t feel good, and the stress from the week had caught up with me. I will March Fourth, though, and I’m betting there is another trip to Sam’s Club in my near future. Damn it.