Friday, August 27, 2010

The saga of the Secret Shopper

Ever gotten back from the grocery store and discovered that you have a number of expensive items that you know you didn't buy?  I'm talking things like a dozen tubes of Vagisil, maybe half a case of Preparation H, or WAY too many imported $4.00 chocolate bars?  How about that caviar?  How did this happen you may ask.  Well, my friend, you have a Secret Shopper!  What's a Secret Shopper?  Not to be confused with a Personal Shopper (someone that shops for you because you're too lazy to do it yourself) a Secret Shopper is someone that "helps" you shop but doesn't feel the need to tell you about it.  Specifically, that would be yours truly, me.

Why do I do this?  Easy.  You have managed to piss the bloody hell out of me while I was trying to do MY grocery shopping, that's why!  How have you pissed me off, you ask?  In an amazing plethora of irritatingly annoying ways that just boggles my mind.  On a good day I probably wouldn't give any one of you a glass of water if your head was on fire but when you do the dumb ass shit that you do at the grocery store I want to shoot you.  Out of a cannon!  Let me flesh this out for you a little bit.

Cell phones.  Well, that one is almost self explanatory.  The last time I used my cell phone I was hanging upside down in my car seat dialing 911.  Get the picture?  What is so freaking important that you feel the need to be on the phone in the grocery store?  You know how we now have laws that try to keep you off the phone in your car for safety reasons?  The same should be true with grocery carts.  When your cell phone comes out you slooooow to a crawl at best  In front of me.  You wretched  bastards!  Then there's the folks that have that damned thing clipped to their ear so they can multi task in the soup aisle because they apparently think it makes them look important .   It does not make you look important!  It does however keep me from getting the can of tomato soup that I want in a timely manner and merely wins you 8 tubes of wasabi!  Don't even get me started on that mind-numbing turd that was in front of me in the check-out line who was actually calling the person that was in back of me in line.  Can you say complete meltdown on my part???

Kids.  Must you manage to bring what appears to be every child that lives on your block with you to the grocery store?  And let them either run wild or follow you shoulder to shoulder so the aisle looks like a log jam on the Mississippi?   Hmmmm, you think that might explain all of the candy I surprised you with.?  I bet you feel pretty bad now about whipping the stuffing out of them when you got home and unpacked the sacks, right???

Am I invisible?  When I'm standing, with my cart, two feet from the shelves and am obviously looking at something I want to purchase why do you walk up and plant your ass in front of me like I wasn't there?  And then take your damned sweet time doing it?  You have obviously been so engrossed in the canned peas that you have neglected to hear that long, low rumbling behind you.  It's me and I call that the "Voice From the Back Of the Cave" sound.   I learned that from my mother, she was a master at it.  When my father and I heard her make that noise we got the hell out of the way.  So should you!!!!

Husbands.  Ladies, do not take your husbands grocery shopping with you, let alone "let" them push the cart.  They are an obstacle of unimaginable annoyance and they are trailing behind you slowing dying of ennui.  In front of me!!!  Do not, I repeat DO NOT send your husbands to the store by themselves.  This is an exercise of complete futility for both he and myself.  They will inevitable park their cart sideways in the middle of the aisle, blocking it completely while they stare at 4 shelves of canned chili with a look on their faces that resembles a deer in head lights because they cannot find the 16 oz. can of chili that you have on the list.  Ladies, there is no such thing as a 16 oz. can of chili!  15 oz., yes.  16 oz., NO!  This sort of conundrum will shut your husbands frontal lobes off completely because he is focusing solely on the beating you will give him when he comes back with the "wrong" size can of chili.  And that case of condoms I have put in his cart.  This annoyance can be summed up in a simple phrase:  Never try to teach a cow to dance.  It's a waste of your time (and mine!!!) and it really just scares the hell out of cow!

Eye Contact.  When you come down the aisle, usually on the wrong side,  make direct eye contact with me and then stop and park your cart three feet in front of me and walk back to the end of the aisle to get something you forgot you are truly taking your life into your own hands.  Are you out of your bloody mind?  That not only makes my Rude-O-Meter go completely off the scale it also gives me WAY too much time to fill your cart with treats.  Tell me, have you found a use for all of that sesame oil yet?  YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY PERSON IN THE STORE!!!

Free Lunch.  Ok, I'll admit this really is the fault of the store but you merely throw more fuel on the damned fire.  Stores have gotten into the habit of putting up these little "have a free sample" table displays.  Inevitably at the end of narrow aisles or on even narrower cross aisles.  And what do you do?  You plant your ass there and begin to chow down. Usually with a couple of family members in tow just to add to the blockage factor.  And you do it at EVERY display they have in the store!  It is a SAMPLE display NOT a smorgasbord!  To borrow a phrase from "My Fair Lady", MOVE YOUR BLOOMIN' ASS!!!!


And don't think I'm the only one doing this to you.  I've been recruiting and training others into this for years.  Think of us as the Al Qaeda of aisle 4, if you will.    When we see another one of us in the store, using just a few discreet hand signals and facial expressions we can tip each other off to you.  Sometimes just as a courtesy to each other to help us avoid you but more often than not so we can systematically "serial swarm" you as you wander the aisles, lost in your own oblivion of  inconsideration and inattention.  Trust me, we will not stop until we have freed the produce section of you and your kind!

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