We beat you

When it comes to grocery store lines, I’m generally fairly patient. I will let a mother with three crabby kids in front of me. Or the person who has 9 items, as opposed to my 10. Or if my cart meets another cart at the same register entrance at the exact same time, I will let the other cart first. It’s OK. I don’t mind.

But yesterday I was reminded of the time it wasn’t ok. My friend sent me a grocery store receipt from Henry’s (in Cali), and at the top wrote “WE BEAT YOU!” and here’s why:

On my recent trip to Cali, my friend and I hit up the grocery to pick up a few last-minute items for that night’s dinner. When we headed up to the register to check out, we discovered the lines were horrendously long. And it wasn’t even like people were buying lots of stuff. It was just lots of people buying a few things, like us. Standing in front of us was a guy who reminded me a little of Vin Diesel. You probably wouldn’t want to be in an alley with him. Or actually maybe you would because he’d kick the crap out of any bad people. He had bulging muscles showing through his tight black t-shirt and a shaved head. We made eye contact and kind of gave that shrug and nod that says, “wow, this line kinda sucks.” Well, suddenly the next lane over opened up. And Vin Diesel half turned and looked at us to see if we were going to move. Again, there was just a little nod which conveyed the fact that we were going to stay put and he could move to the newly opened lane and we wouldn't think he was rude for trying to cut in front of us.

So, time continues to pass as me and my friend wait in our line and Vin waits in his. I kept watching to see who was in the lead. We beat him to the register, but only narrowly. He was very close behind us. As my friend paid, I finished bagging and looked over at Vin in the next lane and out of nowhere...I have NO idea where this came from...it was like an out-of-body experience, I lifted up one of our bags and loudly proclaimed to Vin: “We Beat You!” My friend looked at me like I had lost my mind—and I think I had. Vin didn’t hear me, so rather than just letting it be, I proceeded to lift our bag higher and say louder “WE BEAT YOU!” And at this point, others turn to look, too, to see...was I yelling at them? Had I had beat them? Vin heard, but there was no facial expression as he tried to figure out if I had really just said that to him.

My friend grabbed my elbow and forcefully directed me toward the door—both of us laughing. HJ had returned at this point, and I was asking my friend why I had done that and proclaiming that we really needed to get out of there fast! So, we get to the door only to discover, it’s only the “entrance.” We can't get out! We turn and realize that in order to get to the exit, we have to walk past Vin, who is still at the register, finishing paying.

Sheepishly, very sheepishly, we quickly walk past Vin, who is now smirking. He nods, and says “karma.”

Maybe it was me finally releasing some of the pent-up tension from having lived in California...the land of insane traffic and long lines and people EVERYWHERE. I don’t know. But we beat him.