Check Yo'self

I might have to run a drive-by with my shopping cart.

Nowadays it seems that most of us have resorted to check/debit cards to fund our purchases. It's usually faster, easier and just so much more chic than dumping out a pile of balled up cash at the register.

Because, you know, I gotta be mad chic when I roll though The Teet.

So if everybody (except Eric) is on the same, debit card page, how do I manage to get stuck in line behind the ONE monolith that's hellbent on writing a check?!

This happened to me last week at the Target pharmacy counter. I pull in to find a clot of fools posted up next to the prescription drop off area. Being that the pharmacy is in an awkward location, it's hard to find a parking spot for my cart that isn't blocking an entire aisle. On top of that, I realize that the "line" is vaguely pointing in one direction and I'm pointing in another. Someone could easily sashay their way to the counter before I can even get to it, which means I'm already antsy.

So there I am, trying to run some counter-blocking interference, when I realize that I and all the other patrons have been standing in the exact same spot for a solid 7 minutes. The source of the delay: some poor, elderly creature that decides to wait until her total is tallied before pulling out her checkbook and putting pen to paper. And of course, her dexterity is not what it used to be, so what should have been a few lines of basic financial information turns into a master's thesis on economics.

Made even more long-winded by the fact that she insists on holding a conversation with the pharmacist the ENTIRE TIME she's making out the check. I'm not sure that HE even knows what this woman is talking about, but he nods and makes nice as pharmacist probably should. The rest of us are left standing around, feeling guilty over our lack of patience and infuriated that we feel guilty in the first place.

The ordeal ends 10 minutes later. The scars have yet to fade.