We all know that, as far as shopping at W**M**t is concerned, you have to be in the mood. Or you have to at least be prepared for whatever you see or hear or trip over or smell or for however long you have to wait in line behind nine people buying enough stuff to equip seven small apartments.
But that’s okay. I’ve scooped up my share of crock pots and window blinds and 24-roll packs of toilet paper myself, so I do not judge.
But today the grumpy young woman behind the register glared at me when she started ringing up my 19 items.
“So,” she muttered. “You cheat.”
“Excuse me?” (I was slicing my card through the machine and trying to remember my pin number).
“You cheat.”
Me: blank stare
“With the pie crust.” She held up a box of prepackaged crusts before dumping it in a plastic bag.
“Oh, yeah.” I smiled. “And proud of it, too.”
She continued to glare while she rang up five more boxes of pie crust dough.
“Not me,” she sniffed. “I would *never* use this stuff in my pies. And I have EIGHTEEN PIES to make next week.”
She sounded pretty pissed about it. Eighteen pies does sound like a lot of work. I tried to be polite, because she must be crazy and therefore would require a gentle voice.
“Well, I used to make all the pie crusts myself, but not any more,” I said, keeping it light.
“Me, too”, an elderly woman behind me volunteered. “Those days are over, thank goodness.” We shared an “Amen, Sister” moment.
The cashier wasn’t finished with me. She gave me my receipt, along with another dirty look, as if I was the Paris Hilton of Cheating Holiday Pies. “I’m not supposed to be doing it,” she said, “but I do it anyway.”
Okay, Miss Sunshine. You win the Martyr Award for the week. I’ll bet your pies taste like cardboard and are covered in ferret fur and your family wishes you’d buy pies at Schartner Farms instead of inflicting tasteless Pity Me Pies on them.
There. I feel better now.
More Pie’s Tips for W*****t:
1. Stall getting there. Today I went to two thrift stores, Staples and the bank before the WM Grand Finale of Errand Morning***. There was a 60% off sale on old Pyrex bakeware at the first thrift shop, which put me in a good frame of mind. And I also bought a like-new chafing dish (one of those big-crowd things) that I told myself would be necessary for the wedding next June. God knows why, because we’re going to have it catered now that I’ve come to my senses, but it was only $12 and therefore irresistible.
2. After you survive the check-out, go to the in-store Subway and treat yourself to your favorite Spicy Italian sub, with kettle chips and diet coke, so when you are slogging through the store you will have something pleasant to look forward to. If I can ever find the d**n canola oil, I will order extra pepperoni.
3. Never talk to the cashiers; pretend you are deaf. Someone should invent artificial hearing aids so those of us who attract people-with-opinions can pretend our batteries have died. Huh?? What??? Huh???
***Errand Morning: Banjo Man and I have been sharing a car since last May, when my Toyota truck was recalled. Since we both work at home we decided to try to get along with one set of wheels before we invested in another car. Surprisingly, this plan works quite well as long as we coordinate our calendars and my mother lets me use her car for emergency trips to the library (thanks, Mom). This morning was the only chance for me to get my stuff done before Saturday, as Banjo Man has a busy week of appointments ahead.
Fine with me. I now have a winter’s supply of no-roll pie crusts. I think they look pretty in my freezer.
is there any more pie? 