I picked up all those must-have, can't-live-without items like Kashi Honey Sesame crackers and a six-pack of glue sticks and got into the checkout line. There was one woman in front of me and an ancient checker behind the register.
I've seen him before and he's a cute old Asian guy so I don't mind that he's not as speedy as some of the others. Turns out, he was the least of my problems.
The woman, after putting all her stuff in her cart, decides to write a check.
That's right. A CHECK.
Who the heck writes a check anymore? According to WalletPop, the personal check is one of the top 25 things that are fading out in our country, right along with outdoor plumbing and dial-up.
It's pretty obvious why. First she had to scramble around in her ginormous purse to find a pen. Why she wasn't filling out the check while the guy was ringing up her stuff I do not know. Anyway, the pen doesn't really work, but she's gamely making a go at it.
Meanwhile, I'm tapping my fingers, rolling my eyes and snapping my gum like a high schooler waiting for a homeroom pass. Okay, maybe not quite THAT obvious, but that's what my thought bubble was doing
Then she has to fish out her license. Luckily, the cash register now reads the license, unlike back in the day when I worked retail and had to meticulously print out the drivers license number and expiration on the check, AND ask for a phone number if it wasn't already printed on it.
Finally, after I read in TV Guide how Viki is dead AND in Star how Cher is married and signed a $600 million prenup AND sampled some cherry and mango Tic Tacs AND texted the Gettysburg Address to seven friends, it was my turn.
In went the credit card. Out it came. Done.
See, lady? I wanted to say. But I couldn't. She was out in the parking lot, using her door key to unlock her car before manually unrolling the windows.