March 18, 2005
I suddenly felt a twinge of self-conciousness as I strolled through the doors at a quarter past ten in the morning. Despite the fact that they had just opened, the place was already crowded and I had to vocalize at least three or four 'excuse mes' to various patrons in order to get my hands on one of the last cases of refrigerated Diet Coke. I rather felt as though everyone were eyeing me up and down and so I tucked my head in a bit as I made my way to the counter with my purchases.That's the last time I hit the liquor store so damned early in the morning...
Number one, it was as though everyone thought I was going to head directly home and crack open the bottle of Captain Morgan with absolute alacrity and make haste toward a specific alcoholic's goal regardless of the time of day. It was one of those rare moments where I felt the urge to grab the microphone that the checkout girls use to call another cashier to the front and announce to the store that I was actually going home to study now and drink later...
"Good morning, curious liquor store shoppers, I just wanted to inform you that I have a strict 'cocktail hour rule' and won't be under the influence until at least 6:00 p.m.. Also, there is a two-for-one sale on bottles of Strawberry Pucker in aisle three. Thank you and Happy Jell-O Shotting!"
Number two, this is apparently the time of day when all of the senior citizens of the town of Waukesha make their monthly trek into Discount Liquor. The funny thing is that they do not merely grab a case of beer or a couple bottles of white and red wines. You do not see them shuffle up to the counter with one bottle of booze and a 12 pack of Sprite. These guys always seem to grab one of the four large metal carts available and fill them to the brim with at least two cases of each of the above mentioned items. I never knew old people drank so damned much.
At the counter, my favorite lesbian check out girl was busy ringing up an overwhelming number of items for a little gray man in a derby hat and I was forced to go around to the other side and allow a complete stranger to hastily ask me for my ID. I procured my ID and grumbled under my breath about her attitude when she suddenly opened up her own mouth to ask me another question.
"No green?"
"What?!"
"No green today?"
"Uhhhh, it's right here," I stated while handing her my cash.
"No, no. I mean you're not wearing any green today."
Sure, that made a hell of a lot more sense.
"Well," I said, getting a little defensive, "you're not wearing any red today."
I mean, if we were going to get all picky about Thursday morning wardrobes...
She straightened her back and looked at me with a cock of the head and an inquisitive stare while I slipped my change into my pocket. It was then that my favorite lesbian check out girl leaned over the counter to shake my hand and mention that she had not seen me in quite awhile. As we shook hands, she smiled and wished me a very Happy Saint Patrick's Day.
Ahhh, yes - it was not, indeed, the new check out girl who was being a complete moron. As usual, it was just me.