Burying the Lead (Not the Toxic Kind)

I was just at the supermarket. I was buying some spinach and two green peppers. The 10 Items Or Less line was plodding along.

The delay was caused by an old man, who had some kind of Coca-Cola coupon and didn't understand the related promotion. The cashier blustered something at him that confused him further. He gave up and said he didn't want them.

Meanwhile, the well-dressed couple in front of me looked annoyed. He sighed while she paged through a tabloid. She pointed out an item of great importance involving a celebrity's breast. He nodded disinterestedly.

They got to the front of the line, the old man having left sans Coke. The woman of the couple struggled when it was her turn to check-out.

"Debit or credit?"

"Credit. No, debit. No…"

"I already pushed debit."

"Okay, debit."

The woman stared at the keypad.

"Now what?"

The man became exasperated and pointed. "Push debit."

The cashier snickered and looked away, muttering "it's the end of the world."

After they pushed debit and left, the cashier howled with laughter, asked if the moon was full, and described the entire incident to me.

I guess life isn't that exciting when you have to work the register at A&P all day.

In the buried lead department, my pal Yancey has returned and taken back my security blanket (his pit bull). He was successful in his secret New Year's mission. He is now an engaged man.

Fortunately, he knows me well enough to have told his fiancée that there was no way I would give a speech at the wedding. I froze up the last time I was in wedding, and the groom's brother had to take over.