Ma and I were doing errands this morning and she said to stop at Walmart. Grudgingly I did and said I’d wait in the van. She said I should go and get a loaf of the Wheat French bread they have for a buck a loaf. Since that’s the best think to come out of a Walmart I said fine and went on my way. I picked up a loaf and saw pineapples on sale for a $1.98 each and found a good one to come home with the bread. I found an open register right off and dug up three dollar bills while the girl at the till struggled to scan the two items. Apparently the bread was dealing her fits. She finally keyed in the code, or so I thought, and old me the total was $2.64. My meager mind told me the total should be $2.99 so I asked again for the total and sure enough she said $2.64. I handed her the three bucks and she handed me my change, said thank you and went back to whatever world she was in.
I got to the van just ahead of Carole and thought I’d better count the change. I had .64 cents in change when I should have had .36 cents. When I got the door unlocked and my butt planted I dug out the till slip and it showed that I purchased the pineapple at $1.98 along with two dinner rolls at .33 cents each. Of course it totaled $2.64. Based on my change I paid $2.36 for a $2.99 purchase so I got quite a bargain. And the pineapple is delicious, as is the bread.
Save for some tats and metalwork this checkout girl was lily white and maybe 20 years old. Covered in ink and metal and obviously not having a nickle’s worth of math skills, how does that place stay in business. How does a woman like that survive even?
