Shut Up, Walgreens Lady

By: Mary

You may ask why it is that one person who has literally no impact on my life would warrant an entire blog post, but sometimes, in a rare moment, the planets align in the 9th house of Stupidity, and a normally harmless idiot becomes an axiom of soul-breaking, brain-screwing lunatic stupid. I had such a moment earlier, and we’ll get to that, but first, I should give a little background on this Walgreens lady who seems to bear the only purpose of pissing me off in the ten agonizing seconds we have to interact once a week.

The first time I began to notice that this woman was showing signs of being the epitome of bad customer service was when I bought some sugar free candy, (this particular candy because I prefer it to the sugar-version). Now, I am not diabetic. I’m large, sure, but other than that, I’m young and healthy. I also bought peanut butter M&M’s, because fuck yeah. But when I went to check out, she looked at the two candies and looked at me, holding up the M&M’s and said, “you know, these aren’t sugar free.”

At the time, I was able to barely fake a smile and nod, with a quick, “I know.” In my head, of course, I was saying, “NO SHIT SHERLOCK-FUCKING SUGAR POLICE”.

The look she gave me was, no shit, admonishing. Which led me to the only reasonable conclusion – she assumed that I was a diabetic who was cheating on not having sugar. Needless, to say, rage ensued, but hey. One time. No big deal.

Of course the next three times I bought cigarettes from her, and she informed me dutifully of the health risks associated with them, I finally did get pissed enough to reply to her, “Too bad they won’t kill me quick enough to get out of your line.”

Then of course was the time I bought liquor, not twenty minutes after I had bought cigarettes, and she made a snide comment on “Must be nice to be young and….healthy.”

To which I replied, not with the stabbing she so deeply deserved, but with, “Yep, nicer than being old and crotchety, and lonely probably.”

So you can see why this woman belongs on a page in my blog, her stupidity forever etched in the annals of a place that has the quality of humanity that only the internet can offer.

But today, in particular, came a moment so stupid, that I almost was lost for words. See, I know that she knows who I am. We hate each other, and try to pass in as much silence as possible, but she always makes me present ID for cigs or booze. And I am almost always prepared, except for today when I remembered that I had a new wallet and hadn’t transferred my ID over. I told her to forget the cigs, and that my ID must be at home.

She fixed me, not with the usual contemptuous glare, but with a blank, slightly-opened mouth look that precedes only the most asinine of thoughts that have no hope of not being spoken.

“Then how did you get here?”

“Wh…What?”

“How did you get here without an ID?”

“In….in a car?”

“How can you drive without a license?”

My mind, working hard to see if there was any way I could have missed something, stuttered. Did…did she really think I couldn’t drive without an ID? Part of me wanted to think that she was trying to say that I shouldn’t be driving without it considering I don’t usually get out of there without some dimwitted pearl of cat-lady wisdom, but she had indeed posed that statement as a question.

So, once I concluded that she was being stupid, I smiled and replied, “Well, you see, I get into the car, I turn the key, it turns on, and I use the wheel and pedals to get around in it. My car must be special, because I don’t even have to use my license to start it. Must be magic. Now please, take my money and give me my groceries, so I can take a magical journey back in home in my law-defying car.”

It’s possible I’m being too hard on her; I’m pretty sure someone that annoying is probably alone. But crikey, lady. Mean is bad enough without being that stupid.

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