Pregnancy and Bugs Bunny

I have two grocery store options right by my house.  One of them is always crowded with people who have no concept of how to walk with a cart or how to stay out of my way.  Therefore, I usually end up at the other one due to my desperate desire to avoid dealing with crowds. 

Several weeks ago, I was in a seemingly endless line at the checkout, and as I got closer to the register, it became clear that this was largely due to the cashier.  A pimply teenager, he was engaging in animated conversation with literally everyone who came up, no matter what they had.  It went like this:

Cashier:  Yogurt, huh?

Customer:  Yep.

Cashier:  I never liked yogurt growing up because I thought it was like pus, but now I really like it.

Customer:  Oh?

Cashier:  I sure do.  My favorite flavor is blueberry, but not those fruit-on-the-bottom kinds, the kinds with the blueberries mixed right in.  Oh, you have strawberry.  Did you know that strawberries can carry E.coli?

…and so on.  People were generally being very nice, but pointedly giving one word answers.  And I consider myself a very friendly person, but when it comes to the grocery store, I mostly just want to get out without forgetting anything.  But this kid was determined to engage everyone in conversation.  Finally, I made it to the front.

Cashier:  And how are you doing this fine afternoon?

Me:  Great, thanks.

Cashier:  Carrots, huh?  You know who likes carrots?

Me:  *stares blankly*  …no?

Cashier:  *hums tunelessly*

Me:  I still…I’m sorry, I still don’t know the answer.

Cashier:  Ba-dee-ba-dee-ba-dee, that’s all, folks!

Me:  Porky Pig?

Cashier:  Ha!  No, that was the theme song from Bugs Bunny!

Me:  Oh.  Sorry, I guess it’s been a while since I’ve heard it.

Cashier:  *looks at me like I’ve just made him watch as I punched his puppy*  You’ve never seen Bugs Bunny?

Me:  Well, yes, I’ve…should I swipe my card now, or…?

Cashier:  Diet Dr. Pepper, huh?

This went on for several more minutes.  Several.  More.  Minutes.  Finally I got out of there, but, much to my chagrin, had to go back the next day because I had, of course, forgotten something.  Someone else was working this time: a middle-aged woman.  I made it to the front of her line.

Lady Cashier:  Pregnancy tests, huh?

Me:  Um.  Yes.  And…and soy sauce.

Lady Cashier:  Man, I remember the last time I took a pregnancy test. 

Me:  Oh? 

At this point, I am silently willing her to just scan my stuff so I can go.  No such luck.

Lady Cashier:  Yep, I sure do.  I was at my cousin’s house and sitting on my bed waiting for my pee to turn that little stick colors, and my old man called.  And he said we’d talk about it when he got home, but I told him I didn’t want to talk about it none.  I was so pissed about it.  We hadn’t been getting along, you see.  My cousin asked me wasn’t I excited and I was like, “Hell no, I ain’t excited!” 

Me:  *silence*

Lady Cashier:  Here’s your change.  Have a good day!

Now I order my pregnancy tests off of


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