Tales of a Cash Register

Today at the Shopette, which for all of you who are not in the military is a kind of convenience store that sells everything from gum to furniture to random, totally useless lawn supplies, I realized that I have fallen into a couple of idiosyncrasies that totally amaze me. They amaze me because, first of all, I had no idea that I basically performed for cashiers everywhere, and second because they are in no way related to any way that I have ever seen anyone else behave. Now, before I tell this story, I must set the scene in order to capture the rank embarrassment that I felt this afternoon.

Imagine your local 7-11, then render it in monochrome, slap some arbitrary stickers on the merchandise that say "Military Choice", and you have our Area 1 Shopette. Then, to top it all off, it is entirely staffed by Italians, with one or two Americans thrown into the mix just to surprise you one day in the check out line. Anyway, these Italians are just like any other cashier that you could find in the States in the fact that they really don't care about their jobs. At all. I think that the fact that they, native Italians, have taken jobs on an American base says it all. However, they have the added bonus that they only understand about a tenth of the words that you say unless you happen to speak Italian. So anyone who goes through the check-out is subjected to a stare that manages to say "I pity you", "I hate my job", and "I'm better than you, even though I work at a place that would be bankrupt in a normal economy" in an all-encompassing, yet somehow entirely hollow expression. However, making a run on the Shopette is not as depressing as it might seem, because usually by the time you're hungry enough that you need the type of food that can survive the 3-4 week journey across the Atlantic Ocean, and the only hunger that can drive you to eat that food is the kind that totally possesses your heart and so.

And so, we arrive at today. In a unique turn of events, it was actually not hunger that drove me to walk the halls that a more retrospective person might label the set of a movie from the 1950s. Instead, boredom whispered in my ear that I might find some enjoyment in chewing some gum, which, as any teenager knows, only serves to heighten your boredom, as every chew is like a clock ticking away the time you've spent with nothing better to do than chew gum. Having picked out some spearmint Extra gum, I proceeded to subject myself to the death stare of the currently working cashier, a middle aged caucasian woman who managed to look pissed off and bored at the same time. Having deposited my item on one side of the infrared scanning thingy (I have no idea what it's called) I heard myself saying "thank you". Now, the lady, obviously Italian, probably had no idea that what I said would be considered strange, but in my head, I started urgently examining everything else that I have said to other cashiers recently. I can't say why this bothered me so much, but I began to flash back to other things that I've said or done when I wasn't thinking.

During my recollection, I discovered a few things. First, and I don't know if anyone else has this habit, but whenever I go to check out with a small item, such as gum, and all I have to present the cashier is a twenty, I say "sorry". In retrospect, I have gotten a lot of weird looks from chronically bored people who have no idea why I am apologizing to them. From my perspective, though, I think that I would feel thoroughly offended if some random kid decided to get something that cost 2 cents, then had the temerity to stand there impatiently while I slowly count out his change from the bins containing coins that are all within 2 centimeters of being the same size. Also, I always find myself standing awkwardly in that strange moment when I've given the cashier money, I know that the amount I've given them is only 25 cents away from the amount that I have to pay, and I want to just say "keep the change". However, it seems like whenever I say that people stare at me, like I've just said groovy, or some other colloquialism now out of style. Is it just me, or is that not a thing anymore? I really need some help with this.

Anyway, I think that I am now teetering on the cliff edge between good writing and boring monologue, so I will sign off after just one more comment. I know that several of my upper classman friends are running blogs, and anyone else who has a job and maintains a blog may not have time to balance good, long term editorializing with their serious work. So, I am proposing that this week and next week, the week after Christmas, be Blog Week. I think that now that we have some time off it is the perfect opportunity to post all of our smallest thoughts and worries on the internet. Well, let me know if you think it's a good idea.

Keep Dreaming!

I'm Back! Did you miss me?

Well, it's been about a year since I posted, and yet somehow people are still viewing the blog. Thank you to all of the people who (may) have been continuing to view it, and to those who just happened to stumble in, please keep reading. I'm sorry for being so lax in my writing, I just kept forgetting to write, and then before I knew it I had forgotten that I had a blog. Thankfully, I remembered, so the space used by this blog will not be here in vain. I hope that you haven't given up on me yet.

Moving on, a lot of things have happened since I last wrote. Jekyll and Hyde finished, and to my chagrin, most of my friends couldn't even recognize me onstage. (It was the hat) After that, the rest of eighth grade passed like a bad fart; quickly, but with a lot of noise. I managed to maintain my 'A' average, and got a girlfriend. We're not together anymore (summer was hard), but it was fun while it lasted. To say that I miss middle school would be true in the sense that one misses a slightly annoying friend. When I think of it I have fond memories, but while searching for said memories I often recall some unpleasant ones as well.

But out with the old, in with the new, as the saying goes. Now that I'm a freshman, all of that painful and annoying drama is gone, to be replaced by even more drawn out bouts of emotion. Yay, hormones! My classes are fun, if not particularly challenging. However, finally becoming a high schooler has given me a chance to observe popular culture in a new light. For example, did you know that having an earring in only your right ear means that you're gay? Or maybe it was left... Anyway, high school is looking good so far, and I have high hopes. I'm planning on doing the ACT (aviano community theater) production of 'Hello Dolly' in January.

Finally, I'd just like to apologize again to all of you for waiting so long, and I promise to write more often in the future. Thanks for reading, and keep on dreaming.