When The Smaller Person Is The Bigger Person

For my money, there's nothing quite like walking through a retail hub to find yourself back in touch with humanity. I suppose that's why I enjoy going to the mall at Christmas; you just feel like you're part of the crowd, living the human experience, instead of just observing it. But you know, you sometimes have to take the good with the bad.

Tonight, I had to stop at CVS to pick up some photos on the way home. Yeah, there are other places to get fast photo developing, but this CVS is around the corner from my apartment, and they're open 24 hours a day, which trumps Wal-Mart times two. Of course, you still get some of the Wal-Martesque crowd. That, and whenever I decide to show up, five people are waiting for a solo cashier, but that's just bad timing on my part.

I walk in, receipt in hand, to find that exact scenario: one cashier, three ladies in front of me. Hot on my heels, I hear a woman coming in behind me, in conversation with her daughter. Since it's going to be a few minutes, I shift into observation mode. She's maybe 40, the daughter a well-spoken ten or eleven. She's buying detergent, because she has to do laundry. Her daughter requests some kind of hair product...I can only imagine conditioner. Around this time, a second cashier saunters up and starts serving the next woman in line. I inch forward.

Anyway, Mom objected to her daughter's request. "You can spend your own money, because I don't have that money," she insists. And so it goes. The two start going back and forth, the usual discussion between a child and parent about wants, needs, and where money comes from. I actually tuned it out, because sometimes, a kid needs to get that lecture. Half the problems we have today come from kids who get exactly what they ask for, without question or objection, and if parents would step in and say no now and then...hey, it builds character. Meanwhile, a second line has formed behind the second cashier. That's cool, I'm next in line anyway.

Then Mom becomes aware of her surroundings. Namely, that the cashier in front of us has departed her register to rectify an apparent problem with the woman at the counter. No big deal, it'll just be a few minutes. Mom observes the line to our left, and declares loudly, "There's already one line here." I nonchalantly say, "Was," laughing a bit because it's not that big of a deal. "No, still is," she retorts. Apparently, it is a big deal tonight.

The best part is, at that point, the little girl cuts in:

"Mom, don't talk so loud please."
"I'm saying it so people will hear."
"You're embarrassing me."

Embarrassing me, too, actually, since I happened to be in the same line as Harpy Mom. Of course, when the person left the remaining cashier's register, the cashier asked for the next one in line, and no one dared cut in front of me. I got my pictures, got out of the way, and booked it out of there. Harpy Mom was hot on my heels, too, as if she was afraid someone would cut her in the six-foot amble to the register. I couldn't feel her breath on my neck, but I wish I could have, because it'd have been more poetic.

If there hadn't been that second line, I was tempted to turn around and say, "Ma'am, you're clearly in a rush, so why don't you go ahead of me?" But I didn't. I'm not that confrontational, I didn't want to embarrass the girl, and I didn't want to cause a scene, when I could quickly cash out and leave. I'll bet it'd have gotten some props, though. Seriously, I know we all lead busy lives, but it's a CVS pharmacy on a Tuesday night. Is life so dire that you need to get worked up into a fit over the queue at a cash register? Is a two-minute inconvenience really that great of a tragedy? And in the end, all she did was make herself look like a bitch. At least, that was my parting impression. I feel for the guy who fathered the flock of kids in the minivan she drove.

I guess it just bugs me to see people unnecessarily take out their day's frustrations on the low-paid clerk at a store or a bank. The person behind the counter is paid to ring up your purchases, not to deal with your attitude. If they haven't given you any of their own, there's no need to give them any of yours. After all, most of us were on the other side of that counter at some point, too.