The Old Coot explains the modern version of musical chairs.
By Merlin Lessler
I call it musical checkout-counters. It’s like musical
chairs, the game kids played at birthday parties back in my day, and sometimes
these days, but musical checkout-counters is played in stores. It’s especially
popular in pharmacies, the national chains anyhow. I don’t know why they still
call themselves pharmacies. They do sell drugs, but that’s a back room
operation. The real store is out front. I’m not sure what it is. A gift shop? A
grocery store? A beverage center? A convenience store? All of the above? No
matter, they install four or five check out stations and then don’t use them.
The only clerk in sight is at the photo center wearing a white lab coat,
looking professional, but busy. These employees are the store’s best workers,
the ones out front dealing with customers, the ones who have to apologize for
the empty check out stations.
The musical checkout-counter game begins when the clerk runs
into the back to get something, leaving the check out area unmanned. You emerge
from the aisles with your arms loaded with stuff, survey the line of empty
check out stations, head for the one that is least cluttered with junk and hope
for the best. You glance around for a clerk, but the store appears empty. You
search the counter for a bell or a buzzer but find neither. You cough; you let
out a loud yawn, you clear your throat. Nothing! That’s when you look around
for a hidden camera, picturing a roomful of store employees watching your
frustration and rolling on the floor laughing.
Finally, a clerk shows up. Slides behind a counter twenty
feet to your left and announces, “I can help you over here.” They never pick
the one where you’ve unloaded your items. You scramble as fast as you can to
gather up your goods, but another customer comes out of the aisle and walks
right up to the clerk. You lost this round of musical checkout-counters! Then,
you lose again; two more customers make it to the line ahead of you.
The game is a little different in grocery stores. They play
two different games. The first one is played when you head for the express
line. The clerk spots you coming, and when you almost make it, she yells to a
customer passing by with a fully loaded cart, “I can take you here, maam.” The
cart is maneuvered into the slot just as you arrive. It’s too late. You lost!
The second game is what I call the “lights-out” game. It’s also played in
K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Target and other big box stores. It starts when you get stuck
in line behind a customer having an argument with the clerk (and the manager)
about an outdated discount coupon. You see an opening a few rows away, gather
your goods, push past and apologize to the six people behind you in line and
rush to the “Promised Land.” Just as you get there, the clerk reaches up, turns
off her light and walks away. You go back to where you were, but now you’re at
the end of the line.
I’ve played this game for years and never won. It’s getting
more vicious. Especially the version played in airports. They make you stand in
line in stocking feet holding your shoes. Your valuables, car keys and pocket
change lie exposed in a plastic bin as a gloved masochist paws through your
carry on bag, searching for weapons of mass destruction: nail clippers, tooth
paste and hand cream. You are in the worst musical chairs game of all, “musical
screening.” One by one, the passengers in front of you pass through the metal
detector. Now, it’s your turn; you hold your breath and step into the torture
chamber. The buzzer sounds! It makes you feel like you’re seven years old all
over again, when the music stopped and a bully pushed you aside and plopped
down in the last available chair.
No comments:
Post a Comment