That Woman

I never dreamed I would be "that" woman. You know, the one who holds up the grocery store line. What did you think I was talking about?

I should start with an explanation otherwise this will make zero sense. Andrew's preschool sells HEB gift cards as a fundraiser of sorts. They get a percentage of the proceeds, and the more they sell the more mulah they make. There's no catch. You buy the gift cards. You use the gift cards. So I signed up to buy two $100 gift cards each month. I knew that I would easily spend that in groceries. Not a problem.

So yesterday morning I headed to HEB to do some grocery shopping. I was in a hurry mostly because I was starving and didn't want to buy too much junk to feed my ravenous appetite. I may or may not have grabbed a bag of twizzlers, walked around with them, and then put them back on the shelf. I, also, may or may not have bought a box of chocolate covered ice cream cones, which I swore were for Patrick and Andrew but was forced to eat (not the whole box just one) after hearing the Casey Anthony verdict. But we won't go there.

Anway, I managed to make it through my grocery shopping experience with a minimum of dirty looks from people that seemed to think they owned the store (have I ever mentioned that I strongly dislike grocery shopping). I was pretty proud of myself because approximately 3/4 (okay maybe more like 1/2) of my basket was full of healthy items (dog food and 409 don't count either way). So I parked my happy self in line and proceeded to wait.

Once the lady started checking me out, I remembered my HEB gift cards. I knew I had put them in a "safe" place in my purse. Good luck remembering where that "safe" place might be. I started hunting for them. I opened every zipper, every pocket, every secret compartment. No HEB gift cards appeared. At this point, I'm starting to sweat . . . no literally, I was hot and starting to sweat. For one, they were bagging my groceries, and the lady behind me was staring at me none too kindly. And two, and may I add most importantly, I couldn't locate $200 worth of gift cards.

I decided that I would go ahead and use my debit card. I mean, I could use the gift cards in the next couple weeks. It's not like I never go grocery shopping . . . oh wait, it is like I never go grocery shopping . . . I digress (we'll discuss my grocery shopping issues at another time). So I swiped my debit card and went to put it back in my purse when I noticed my HEB cards (right in front of my eyes). Awesome, I figured I could just cancel my transaction and swipe them. Or not! I tried to cancel and couldn't do it. So I asked the checker to do it, and she couldn't either. I told her it was no big deal, but she says, "Oh no, it'll only take a minute. I'll just call the manager." At this point the lady behind me was shooting daggers, and I was apologizing profusely. You think I'm kidding . . . if looks could kill . . . The manager finally showed up and put all these codes into the computer. Apparently, you have to be a secret agent with top level security clearance to clear out someone's transaction. She took a few minutes to clear it out. Meanwhile the line was steadily growing. People were mumbling under their breath. I was hanging my head in shame. Needless to say, I paid and bolted.

While, I was loading my groceries into the car, the lady with the killer death stare walked by with her family, and her son (or grandson) took a moment to burn a hole straight through me. You know, Superman style. I pretended like I didn't see him all the while dripping sweat and turning beat red. I'm cool like that. Anyway, I learned my lesson. From now on, I will send my husband to do all the grocery shopping. I kid, I kid . . . I will never huff or puff, or whine or complain when some poor soul is taking a little longer than they should in the grocery store line. Believe me people, I didn't do it on purpose. And I still plan on sending Patrick to the grocery store.

This post brought to you by women everywhere whose purses are too big and memories are too short.

Also and more importantly: No grocery store checkers and/or baggers were harmed in the very slightly exaggerated writing of this post.