I went to buy three things from Target...and then this happened.

Good morning!

So for reasons I can't fathom, we have been running through eggs in this house like it's the only food left and we're starving.  I don't know where they all go. I know I had almost four dozen in the fridge last Monday and yesterday I looked and I was down to two.  Who is eating all the eggs?

But it's Easter and I need a couple dozen for Sunday so we can play Tips and Butts (our Easter tradition game...the rules are here from my post on 4-18-14.) so I checked various other departments in the house for things I needed so I could avoid Easter shoppers today and tomorrow.

I came up with three items:  eggs, eyeliner, and a gift card for some one's shoebox from the Naughty Easter Rodent.  (Yeah, we don't do Easter baskets.  Years ago I gave up trying to dig the baskets out of a box in the basement.  And the Naughty Easter Rodent?  Well...it's not a NICE creature that sneaks into your house and hides your Easter Eggs, right?)

So off to Target I go to get three things.

Of course, it's Target, so I wound up with a few more than three things.  I mean, who walks out of Target with only the stuff on their list?  Please. I had enough things in my basket (not cart, I actually kept my over shopping to basket levels) that I didn't want to mess with self checkout.  So I headed to the registers.

Now, I've had some adventures at the Target check outs, so I've learned to avoid a few things:  Like the shortest line. Or lines where someone has a ton of kids with them.  Or lines where the register operator is over the age of 80.  Or the register where the operator has his/her mouth pierced closed.  (I'm all for tattoos and piercings if that's what you're into. But sticking a metal bar in your mouth so that you can't open your face to speak clearly makes the details of any transaction difficult to understand.  It's really a me thing I guess.)

So, armed with my experience, I marched my basket of fun things to the longest line where the register operator was a young man in the lower twenties age range. (No mouth piercings.)  There were three people ahead of me, but Ahmed (That was his name) was moving things quickly.  

Well, at least the first two people went quickly.  

And then we came to a person I'll call Rosetta, as in "apparently she's composing a new Rosetta stone."

Rosetta had four things in her cart: two bed-in-a-bag and two other items I didn't see.  Ahmed ran the four things through quickly and then asked for payment.

That's when everything came to a screaming halt.

Let me just rant for a moment:  In this day and age of debit cards, credit cards, cash, apple pay and one touch shopping, WHO IS STILL PAYING WITH A CHECK AND WHO IS STILL TAKING CHECKS?

I can answer that question:  Rosetta is paying with a check and Target is still taking checks.

As we all pretty much know, writing a check takes a minute or so, but it's not that long.  I mean, it's five, maybe six blanks to fill out:  date, pay to, amount in numbers, amount in letters, signature, and maybe the memo line.  It's not a novel. It's not even a tax form.

Except for Rosetta.


I do not know what that woman was writing.  I watched her get her checkbook out of her purse, find the check blank and start filling it out.  And honestly, I've never seen anyone write more...or TAKE LONGER...with a check than she did. 

We all have internal clocks when it comes to basic activities:  An ATM transaction should take X number of minutes.  A drive thru order at a fast food place should take X minutes.  A trip to the bathroom should take X minutes.  AND WRITING A CHECK SHOULD TAKE ZERO MINUTES.

Not so for Rosetta. Words fail me as to how she was filling this thing out. It was like watching some Middle Ages monk transcribe the Bible with gold plated letters and artwork.  And it went on and on.  She might have been writing out her shopping list. She might have been filling out a home loan application.  She might have been writing a letter to her pen pal.  (Do people have pen pals anymore?  I don't know. But I had time to ponder that.)  My guess:  She was doing all three.

I've never, in my life, seen someone take longer to fill out a check.

FINALLY, FINALLY she was finished. She very deliberately tore the check from her book and handed it to Ahmed.  We were home free.

Until...

"I am going to need to see your I.D."

WHO WRITES A PERSONAL CHECK AT TARGET AND DOESN'T HAVE I.D. AT THE READY??????????????????????????????????????????

Answer:  Rosetta.

So then we waited, Ahmed and I while she reached into her purse and slowly, very slowly, drew out her wallet.  Meanwhile, behind me, the half dozen people lined up were being dispersed to other check out counters.  I, on the other hand, was determined to see this through.

You know, when you're waiting in line at a retail store and the person in front of you is being especially difficult, you sort of bond, silently, with the clerk.  Weirdly enough, you do this without more than a quick glance.  No one wants to be caught staring at a clerk in a meaningful way when it's the customer who is being the problem.

If the clerk is the problem, however, I have no trouble giving him or her the death stare.

But in this case I shot a quick look at Ahmed and then spent the rest of my time, when I wasn't mentally taking notes on Rosetta's movements, being VERY interested in the gum rack.

Finally she presented Ahmed with the I.D. and, completing her transaction, she was on her way...sort of. I mean, Ahmed hadn't put her two bed-in-a-bag sets in her cart, so she had to roll around to the end of the register belt to do that.  And yes, even with everything in my basket, it took longer for her to put two things in her cart than it took Ahmed to ring up everything I bought.

Once she was finally out of the way, and I, having had my method of payment in my had from the moment I put my items on the belt (LIKE A NORMAL PERSON) said to Ahmed, "If I said I wanted to pay by personal check, would you lose your mind?"

He smiled at me and said, "Well, it's not like we can turn it down, right?"

Total time for Rosetta's transaction, not counting Ahmed ringing up her four items: seven minutes and fourteen seconds.  Total time for Ahmed ringing up my seventeen items and processing my payment: under two minutes.  And that included our little conversation.

Next time I'll just do self check and yell at the machine when it tells me something foreign is in the bagging area.

Well kids, it's Easter weekend so I want to wish all of you a happy and blessed Easter!  For Christians I rejoice and say, "He is Risen!"

For my secular friends, I say, "no child really wants to sit on a giant bunny's lap."  

For everyone else, I say, "Half price candy on Monday!"