My feet hurt somethin’ fierce, like always when it was a busy Saturday at the grocery store. I jus wanted to be home, maybe read a book in my comfy chair, not listen to the endless beeping of the register and the low hum of too many people talkin’ at once. Im not really a people person, ya know? I do my job, I scan the stuff, I make the change, but my brain feels like its runnin’ a marathon by the end of it. Today was already feelin’ like one of those extra long marathons, and it was only jus past lunch time.
The line at my checkout was pretty long, strechin’ all the way back past the candy aisle. Most people were bein’ patient, shufflin’ their feet and lookin’ at their phones. Thats how most people are. They just want to get there stuff and go. I was goin’ through the motions, baggin’ up some apples for an old lady with a kinda smell good sweater, when I saw her. She kinda swaggered in from the drink aisle, like she owned the whole store, even though she was just another customer. She had on these super long, glittery, coffin-shaped nails that she kept flippin’ around, like she expected everyone to stare at them. They looked like they’d been dipped in some kind of special glue and then rolled in a bucket of craft glitter. They were kinda… a lot. She was with a guy who looked a little tired, like he’d been dragged around all day. He had his hands in his pockets and was just starin’ at the floor.
She stopped and looked at all the lines. She didnt have a lot of groceries, jus a few bags of chips and some fancy soda. I saw her eyes kinda narrow, like she was judgin’ the whole setup. Then, plain as day, she started to walk right past like six or seven people in my line. She didnt even say excuse me or nothin’. Just walked right on by them, her glittery nails flashin’ as she pushed past a lady with a cart full of baby food. The lady kinda mumbled somethin’ but the young woman jus kept goin’. She got right up to the person I was checkin’ out, who was a really tall dude with a beard. She tried to kinda nudge her little basket right up to the scanner, like it was her turn. The bearded guy looked confused, and even I kinda stopped for a second.
My introverted self was screamin’ to jus let it happen. It was not my problem, right? People cut in line all the time. But this was too much. She thought she was so special, so important, that the rules didnt apply to her. I could see the other people in line startin’ to grumble, shiftin’ there weight, givin’ her dirty looks. No one was sayin’ anything loud, though. People mostly try to avoid a scene, especialy when someones actin’ like that. I had to do somethin’. If I let her cut, it would just make the whole line even more mad, and then I’d have to deal with that later. I did not want to deal with that later.
So, when the tall bearded guy was done, I cleared my throat, kinda louder than I meant to. She pushed her basket onto the conveyor belt, smirkin’ like she’d won some kinda prize. I didnt touch her stuff. I jus looked at her. Her boyfriend kinda sighed from behind her, a really deep, tired sound. She glanced back at him like she was annoyed he made a sound at all. She then looked at me, expectin’ me to start scanin’ her chips. She even tapped her glittery nails on the belt, like I was bein’ slow. “Well?” she said, but it was more of a demand than a question.
I kinda leaned forward a little, restin’ my elbow on the counter. “Ma’am,” I said, tryin’ to keep my voice flat, like I was just explainin’ somethin’ simple, “I think there was a mix-up. The end of the line is back there.” I pointed with my thumb, kinda vague like, back towards the candy aisle. She frowned, a little crinkle comin’ between her perfect eyebrows. “What mix-up? I’m here now. I have to go, I’m in a hurry.” She flapped one of her glittery hands at me, like that solved everything. “Look at these nails, they’re not gonna chip themselves waitin’ on you all day.”
I could feel my face gettin’ a little warm, but I kept my voice even. “I understand you’re in a hurry, but these other customers have been waitin’ for a while. It’s only fair.” The line behind her kinda murmured agreement. Then, like someone had flipped a switch, a little kid over in the next aisle, in a different line, started screamin’. Not cryin’, screamin’. Like a fire alarm. “NO! I WANT IT NOW! WAITING IS STUPID!” The sound made everyone kinda jump, and for a second, my ears felt like they were ringin’. The little kid’s mom was tryin’ to shush her, but it just made it worse. The young woman with the glittery nails flinched, then narrowed her eyes at me again.
“Are you serious?” she said, her voice goin’ up a notch. “You’re gonna make me go all the way back there? Thats ridiculous. I’m important. I can’t stand here listenin’ to that screaming kid. It’s annoyin’ me. My boyfriend here knows I get stressed when I hear screaming.” Her boyfriend, who was still starin’ at the floor, gave a tiny nod, like it was a fact of life. People in the line were definitely listenin’ now. I saw one lady reach for her phone, probably to call for a manager. But I knew managers were busy, and it would take them ages to get here, if they even did. I had to fix this myself.
I took a breath. I thought about how she was so focused on herself, on how she looked, on how she was important. I decided to use that. I leaned in a little, like I was lettin’ her in on a secret. “You know what?” I said, lowerin’ my voice a little, like I was worried someone else would hear. “You’re absolutely right. It would be a complete mess for someone like you to have to stand in this long, noisy line, listenin’ to all that… racket. People would just be lookin’ at you, feelin’ bad for you, or worse, tryin’ to talk to you. You’re too important for that, aren’t you?”
She blinked at me. The frown on her face kinda softened, like she was tryin’ to understand if I was bein’ rude or actually complimentin’ her. She kinda liked the sound of “important.” I pressed on, noddin’ sagely. “No, truly. It jus wouldn’t do. You, with your… unique style,” I gestured vaguely at her glittery nails, “you need to be seen in the best light. Think about it. Standin’ here, lookin’ stressed, listenin’ to that kid over there… it just wouldn’t be a good look. People would be whisperin’, you know, about how you’re stuck in this… common situation.”
She actually started to smooth down her shirt, lookin’ around at the other customers, like she was suddenly worried about their opinions. Her eyes kinda darted from the long line to the screamin’ kid in the next aisle. “Whisperin’?” she repeated, her voice a little less confident. “What would they whisper?”
I shrugged, still keepin’ my voice low. “Oh, you know. ‘Look at her, stuck in that awful line. She looks so stressed. Her day is probably ruined.’ Things like that. It would be so much better, so much more… glamorous, if you were to maybe find a shorter line. Or even, better yet, just step back a few spots and join the line properly. Then you don’t look like you’re makin’ a scene, and you look like you’re above all this common… waiting. It makes you look thoughtful, considerate. Like you’re choosin’ to do the right thing, because you’re smart like that.”
She mulled it over. I could practically see the gears turnin’ in her head. She glanced at the screamin’ kid again, who was still goin’ strong. Then she looked at the long line. Her face brightened a little, like she’d just thought of somethin’ brilliant. “You know what?” she said, pullin’ her basket back. “You’re right. This line is just… too common for me right now. And that kid is so annoying. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to that. I’m gonna go find a different line. One that’s more… suited.” She gave a little sniff. “It’s jus smarter, really.”
Her boyfriend, still silent, jus slowly lifted his head, his eyes kinda wide for a second, then he quickly put his head back down, like he was afraid she’d change her mind. She turned and walked back, not all the way to the end, but she went to a different checkout line, a slightly shorter one with only four people in it, about half the length of mine. She still walked to the front of that line, but this time, the person at the front wasn’t lookin’ and she jus kinda slipped in there. No one in that line seemed to notice, or maybe they were jus too tired. I jus watched her go, then called up my next customer, the lady who had been behind the bearded guy. My feet still hurt, and my brain was still runnin’ a marathon, but at least the loud part of the marathon was over, for now.
