To the woman in front of me at Price Chopper:
Congratulations! You’re friends with the checker! Awesome! Unfortunately, the rest of us don’t invest the time to develop lifelong friendships with grocery store clerks. Pay your total and let us get on with our lives.
I would thank you for paying with cash, but a decrepit old woman could’ve written 15 checks in the time it’s taking you to count out your one dollars bills, stalling so you can shoot shit with the checker some more.
Thank God. You’re finally paying. I hope I never see you again.
Whoops, it looks like you dropped one of your dollar bills. But you’re scurrying out of Price Chopper so you won’t miss your appointment to waste time for consumers at another location. You’re out the door. Out of my vocal range. I’ll just go ahead and put the dollar up here on the checkout stand and – damn, the old man sacker just took it and is running after you.
So, you got your dollar back. But beware. Karma will find you. If the universe works as it should, the next time you try to befriend a clerk, you’ll be greeted with a cold, disinterested stare.