Something

Today, while doing my job--you know, where I stand at the register and actually scan merchandise, accept payment, and grovel for dead presidents--I experienced something so radically stupid, I still can't believe it happened.

While ringing out customers, a woman brings plants to a register I am not anywhere near. She is facing me, with her plants on the counter, watching me ring out customers.

When the customers are all gone on their merry ways, she still standing there, plucking the dead blooms off the plants. (of course, she's leaving those dead heads on the counter) I brush off my counter--the one attached to the register I'm actually using.

She's looking at me like I'm the stupid one here, and she says, "Isn't this the register you're supposed to be at?"

I respond: "I'm running on this register." I nod at the machine she watched me use to ring out those other people.

"Oh. I assumed you'd be using this one." Er, uh, yah, dipwad, mostly because the gate nearest to it is closed, and I haven't been anywhere near it since 7:30am today.

I respond: "Do you need help getting your plants over here?"

"Nooooooo, but, someone has left something here." She raises her eyebrows at me, like that should be the end of the issue--and I should jump to it, and use the register SHE chose.

I walk over, wondering just what in the hell she's seeing because there's been nothing on that counter all day except for her dead heads and some windblown dirt. What she is trying to tell me is "something" that would lead a normal, thinking person to believe it's an open register is the credit card machine, wrapped and cover in a plastic bag.

"Oh, that is the credit card machine. We have to cover the unused ones out here so they don't fill up with water."

Thank God for those new sunglasses...they keep the bleeting masses from seeing my eyes roll up in my head.