A Well Kept Man

As I approached my lane of choice, I noticed the other four lanes open (again, out of at least thirty) each had a minimum of five shoppers with carts filled to the brim with groceries.  My lane had six or seven, but each shopper appeared to have a more nominal amount in their carts which caused me to figure that this particular line would move faster.  As I waited in line I noticed the cashier enjoyed chit-chatting with each customer while examining each and every scanned item as if she was celebrating the customer's wise selection.  Apparently she wanted them to feel good about their choices, as well as make sure each item was treated with the love and respect it deserved (well, as much respect as one can give three liters of motor oil, Swiffer cleaning pads, and a bag of croissants).

After watching her do this for the next thirty-odd minutes (noticing that I was still ahead of my hypothetical spots in other lanes) I started to feel good about my choice.  Still, I felt a bit of unease as I began to place my items on the checkout counter (not sure why, just had a feeling).  The customer before me wound up getting through in what I determined to be record time (spending about 200 Euro on a week's worth of groceries but taking only about five minutes in the process...she was British so I imagine the cashier wanted her gone as quickly as possible).  So now it was my turn, or so I thought.  You see, I failed to notice the sign directly over the lane I chose.  The lane was a special lane, one that I am sure I will avoid on future occasions.  As I waited for the cashier to begin fondling my beef roast and Johnsonville brats (I was as surprised as you are...good old American brats at the French grocery store, yet they don't have brown sugar or barbecue sauce...go figure), she suddenly began motioning wildly for me to move back out of the line.

The woman behind me protested (rather vehemently), which created a heated exchange in French that I could not understand except that we were losing and the cashier was winning (must resist easy joke about French surrending...must....resist.......whew, it passed).  Apparently our lane was one that grants priority checkout to handicapped individuals (as well as pregnant women, but I won't go there...) and I managed to gather from the discussion (but mostly from my intuition) there was a handicap gentleman coming to checkout (so really just observation as I was confused as could be).  As we eagerly awaited his arrival (I was expecting a man in a wheelchair at minimum, but more likely with an oxygen tank and multiple nurses assisting him in his shopping), I began to ponder whether or not the ice cream I put in my cart some 45 minutes ago had melted...(still feels cold, so I guess I'm ok).  Instead we were treated to a wily chap who ran up to the register pushing his cart, cane prominently placed on top of his groceries, with his wife and two neighbors leisurely strolling alongside (so basically handicapped like the people in the States who just hang a handicap sign on their rear view mirror so they don't have to walk an extra fifty feet to the front door of the mall but then literally run into the mall...by the way, you aren't fooling anyone.).

Of course their cart had no less than 300 Euro worth of items for the two families which was evident by the method in which they bagged their groceries (no single family needs that much cheese).  The cashier chatted away with the four fakers while I patiently waited another twenty minutes.  It was at this point I noticed a pregnant woman (maybe a couple months, barely showing but definitely with child) hovering dangerously close to my checkout lane.  I threw out a quick prayer and it was thankfully answered as she chose to pick a different lane enabling me to pay for my goods and go (by the way it took under a minute to get my American self checked out...apparently the cashier had even more contempt for me than the British lady, or it was because I only had about a dozen items).  So for my efforts I spent about 20 minutes shopping, but close to an hour in line.  I can't say I won't ever visit that store again because their meat is such a great deal (comparatively)...I must however avoid the special lane at all costs the next time I go (and perhaps go right when they open so I can guarantee a speedier checkout.