Is it weird that I envy other shoppers’ relationships with the cashiers at my grocery store? It’s probably a little weird, right? Sometimes I am waiting there with my items on the belt as the person ahead of me pays for her groceries, and I catch little clips of her conversation with the cashier… and some people seem to know so! much! about each other! Like they’re old friends, talking about their aging mothers or their new babies or a college-age child coming home for the weekend.
How does a person get to be that familiar with a person she sees for five minutes once a week? (Or more. My in laws are in town and that plus Extra Birthday Baking I’ve been doing for Carla means that I’ve been to the grocery store A Lot lately.) There are members of the grocery store staff that I recognize – like Dan the fish guy, who gave Carla about 50 samples of fish one Saturday before very kindly telling her that this was the last one, okay?, because he needs to save some for other people (I should have stopped her after sample 1, but it was a food that she liked that didn’t come in a package and end in –able, so I kept my mouth shut). Or the super nice lady behind the prepared foods counter, with whom I once in a fit of bravery exchanged names, but whose name I then promptly forgot and have never remembered because she doesn’t wear a name tag and obviously I am not brave enough to ask her again. Or the cashier who is really terrific at fitting every single thing into the exact number of bags I have no matter how much junk I’ve loaded into my cart. Or the guys who load my bags into my car, and who are always super nice to Carla (seriously, they have been so kind to her I have sent positive comments to the store manager). But I barely know their names, let alone any details of their personal lives.
(My grocery store is pretty great. I have only ever had three negative experiences with the staff there. One is with a different, non-Dan fish guy who has NO IDEA how to butcher a fish properly and leaves scales all over the fish he cuts for me. Yuck. And ALSO, probably because he is not a good fish butcher, he made a snide comment about how lucky I was that he was removing the skin from my salmon because most stores charge for that. No one had ever once told me that wasn’t a thing a could ask for at the fish counter! And yes, I DO appreciate that they do it, and do it for free! Blah! Thanks for making me feel guilty about something I have asked for literally hundreds of times!!! This is the most privileged paragraph in history! My Coping Mechanism has been to refuse to buy fish when he is on duty. The other was with a cashier who kept insisting that I could – and should – get Carla a free cookie one afternoon because Carla was crying. Crying because she was not allowed to have the free cookie, the eating of which had been contingent on her good behavior during the shopping trip. “Awww! She wants a cookie!” * heaving sobs * “I know she does, but we’re not getting a cookie today.” * pitiful sniffles * “You can get one right over there!” * wailing * “Yes, I know, but we’re not getting a cookie today.” * enormous tears * “But they’re free!” “She can’t have a cookie.” * louder wailing *)
Whatever. Maybe more in-depth relationships with my local grocery store staff will come, after I’ve been shopping there for a few decades. Or maybe my relationship level is perfect as is. I don’t know – it can go too far the other way, I suppose. There’s a checker at my Target who is WAY too overfriendly. She could be the inspiration for that old Kristen Wiig Target Lady sketch on SNL. She’s always commenting on my purchases and asking me where I got them and what I’m going to do with them. And while I am not averse to the occasional curious question or comment – I mean, if you just bought the exact brand of nail polish I am buying, I would love to hear how it looks out of the bottle – this particular checker comments on Every. Single. Item. The last time I saw her, we had a long conversation about couscous and what to serve it with and she also praised my choice of wrapping paper and then asked me if I like the eye drops I was getting. It’s very tedious and I don’t think the people in line behind me appreciate it too much.
Worse than the running commentary is that she makes these vague upsetting references to her life that I don’t know what to do with. Like she’ll say, “How are you today?” and I’ll say, “Fine! How are you?” And she’ll say, “Well, as good as can be expected, I guess.” And then at the end of our transaction, I’ll say, “Have a great day!” and she’ll respond despondently, “I doubt that I will, but thanks anyway.” And she’s been even more gloomy than that, with broad sweeping comments about how life certainly isn’t fair for everyone is it. And I just don’t have any idea how to respond! Am I supposed to ask, while the line grows behind me, while Carla gets more and more antsy, what’s going on with her? Part of me wants to take her out for coffee and let her vent for an hour. And the other part of me wants to say, “We are not close enough for you to say things like that to me!” My strategy so far has been to listen to whatever she is saying and nod empathetically and then say, “See you next time!” as I leave. On a human level, I want to be kind to her and help her in any way I can. But on a reality level, I don’t have the bandwidth to be a stranger’s support system. (Are there any little, low-bandwidth kindnesses I can extend to her… without being condescending or overly familiar?)
This whole long build up is all to say that I already have anxiety surrounding my interactions with the staff at my grocery store.
So the other day, I put the divider on the conveyor belt to separate my groceries from the person before me. The cashier was still scanning the items for the person ahead of me. But she smiled at me and said, “Hello!” And I smiled and said hello back. A minute or so later, as I was finishing unloading my cart, she handed the prior shopper her receipt and looked at me and said again, “Hello! How are you? Where’s the little one today?” in this super cheerful way. Everyone at the grocery store loves Carla. And so I smiled at her and said, “I’m good! Carla’s at camp today. How are you?” And reached into my cart for the last bag and in doing so saw the person behind me to whom the cashier was actually speaking.
Then of course I had to endure the shame and humiliation of THAT as she rang up my entire cart of groceries and asked me again — me, this time — how I was, and instead of responding — AGAIN — to her pity question, I kind of shrugged and smiled and said NOTHING.
And then I burst into flames.
I have a feeling that these types of relationships are built over time. That cashier that you thought was talking to you? They now know that you have a little one and will most likely ask you about her in future visits. I, of course, don’t know this for sure since I avoid the grocery store like the plague – but I feel it to be true.
I have been in your shoes – we all have – and it’s not a great feeling but this is not something that the cashier probably thought twice about. So with that in mind, free yourself.
So I will just ignore that last exchange, which is the kind of thing where when I am in the CASHIER’S position I feel total understanding for how things went wrong and also empathy because I’ve done it many times myself and also awkwardness for my own share in things and my inability to fix them, but when I am in YOUR position I wish I had never been born and that I could do some sort of interpretive dance to fully illustrate my burning embarrassment to all concerned.
And I will instead go directly to the subject of the Oversharing Clerk. We have one of those at my Target, and I will avoid her line at almost any cost. I will even go instead to the line of the Critical Clerk, who seems to disapprove of what I buy, and will say things like “That sure is a lot of candy!” or “That’s an expensive toy for a baby!” or whatever. (WHY.) But I will endure that rather than endure the one who comments on every item (“Are you having tacos?”/”Someone’s making cookies!”), personally identifies with many items on the belt, says awkwardly personal things about herself, and asks me oddly personal and hard-to-answer-during-checkout questions (“So where are you from?”).
As to the personal relationships with clerks, I have wondered the same thing at my grocery store and I finally have a theory: those people are ALREADY ACQUAINTED OUTSIDE OF THE CUSTOMER/CASHIER RELATIONSHIP. I came to this theory when a friend of mine started working at my grocery store and another friend of mine started working at Target. I go through their lines on purpose, and we will chat companionably while they ring me up. BECAUSE I ALREADY KNOW THEM.
But there are also a couple of clerks at my grocery store who are sort of Just the Right Amount of Chatty, and I’ve found that after a couple of decades of meeting at this store, they and I have started chatting more personally. One of them told me about the particular breed of cats she has, and so I will ask about the cats. Another of them was kind of overwhelmed when her teenager had a baby, and at the time she told kind of EVERYONE (like, I heard her telling the person before me, and then me, for several grocery store trips in a row), and so I ask about her grandson.
But MOST of the clerks don’t have a Sharing Relationship with me. We just recognize each other, say hi, comment on the weather, etc.
I grocery shop pretty regularly at 7 am on Friday mornings and because it is early, a lot of the store staff recognize me. And so we have friendly conversations now, some days. Not if I or they are busy.
And even if I am not at that time, I usually go on Fridays so they know me. It’s actually super nice, because they will notice things like damaged produce.
I used to be really anxious about interactions like these. I would feel humiliated about the encounter above, even though I didnt do anything wrong. And I really don’t know what changed. Probably some big serious issues in my marriage (still ongoing), combined with embarrassing kids just made me care less about this stuff. Also, I was a waitress for years and we really don’t notice your embarrassing things because we are fixated on our own flubs. So I have that perspective.
I guess. If you want to be friend wit the cashiers. Go at the same time and talk with them. If you don’t…. just don’t and be as friendly as you can. From a waitstaff perspective- we remember the regulars, even if we don’t have the time to say so.
Oh no!!!! First of all, the grocery staff knows me really well. I am a frequent customer- unfortunately. I swear I am there almost daily.
Also a woman who used to work with Coach once bumped into me at Costco. She hadn’t seen me in awhile. She called over to me ‘you look so good!’ I am guessing the last time she saw me was when I was pregnant. Anyway my cashier intercepted my compliment. Talk about awkward!!!
Along the cookie thought, I used to hate when my kids were little and the bank people would send suckers in the drive up window. They would send 6 of the same color. I suppose they thought they were helping me out by cutting down on fighting, but not real life!!!
ARE WE THE SAME PERSON? We may be the same person. Awkward interactions with people are my superhero power, I guess. Happens to me ALL the time. That last exchange you mentioned gave me so much secondhand embarrassment for you. OUCH. Social interactions are too much for me, lol.
I’m also appalled at your oversharing target person. OY VEY. I don’t like overly friendly cashiers or servers at restaurants, but someone who uses you as her therapist? Yikes. I’d go out of my way to avoid that. (The day they introduced self checkout at my Target was the best day of my life. NO MORE AWKWARD INTERACTIONS.)
So, I worked as a cashier for a few summers during college. I probably processed a couple of hundred transactions during every shift. Unless your transaction was something I didn’t know how to do or your purchase something insanely weird (the people who bought 400 pounds of tomatillos was unique, for instance), I literally forgot about you as soon as you left my line. And, honestly, I have nothing bad to say about the tomatillo people – it was just unusual. While you may think the cashier is judging or something, even the most awkward transaction just rolls off his or her back. I promise!