Grocery Shame

It is absolutely off limits for a grocery store employee, to comment on my purchases. Every time it’s the same fuck asking me “is it Taco Tuesday at your house?!” while ringing up my salsa and tortillas.


Completely annoyed and unable to handle my shit, I’ll say something like “Wow, nothing gets passed you. Is your IQ really high or something?” before realizing he’s “special” and just learned what a taco was.

While he might be off the hook, socially aware employees aren’t allowed the same courtesy. Mostly because I hate stranger small talk. It embarrasses me into a hot sweat that prevents my synapses from firing at their normal rate. Instead of whipping out some quick-witted comment, I either develop a studder or sound equally as special as taco boy.

In a recent shopping trip to Publix, I was completely mortified by an overly friendly cashier. In case you’re not familiar with Publix’s business model, they make all employees suffocate you with kindness and help. Rumor has it there is some type of 5 rule where they have to hug you within 5 seconds of seeing you or something like that. Basically, they are my nightmare.

Because I’m married to a man boy very particular about his ass wipes, I buy Pampers baby wipes. He has a clean ass, I use them for a quick whore bath and we live happily ever after. Apparently, cashiers assume grown adults don’t use these and certainly not the name brands.

Cashier: *rings up Pampers baby wipes* Oh, you have a little one at home?

Me: Huh? *spots the baby wipes* Um…no.

Cashier: Oh, ha ha, I thought, um never mind.

Bagger: Dude, if you don’t use baby wipes you’re missing out.


The morale of the story for employees is to shut up. Please just leave me alone as I buy my lube and cucumbers and I won’t ask you why you still work at Publix. For me, I’ve learned that there are items more embarrassing to buy than tampons and a gallon of ice cream.


5 thoughts on “Grocery Shame”

  1. Fun fact, my dad uses baby wipes for the same purpose. And when I still lived at home and was tasked with getting the groceries, we had a cat who refused to use her litter box if she’d used it once so I would also buy those new puppy training pee pads.
    “OMG YOU HAVE A PUPPY?!!!!!” Uh… Oh um no, my cat’s just a bitch and actually maybe has liver failure… It’s a long story and I don’t feel like discussing my cat’s bowel movements with strangers. And I don’t have a baby either.

  2. haha EXACTLY! For some reason they’re voices are always the gee-golly-gosh, 1950s accent which makes me want to shove habeneros in their eyeballs, even more. thank you SO much for coming back for a read and the much appreciated comment:) <3

  3. Holy crap, it’s good to see you blogging again!

    This is spot on, and something I hate, too. Especially since I’m a white guy with Mexican heritage, so whenever I buy something like corn tortillas and habanero peppers and go through the line of a fellow white guy he always tries to make awkward white guy small talk about my ‘Mexican’ purchases.

    “Oh wow, man, you gonna like… make some quesadillas* or something?”
    *pronounced Kay-SUH-dill-uhhhhhs

    Me: “Uh, no, I’m making tacos. With some garden salsa.”

    Him: “Where’s the taco shells? All you have are these floppy corn tortillas?”

    Me: “Damn. You’re right, I forgot the taco bell taco shells. I also forgot the taco bell sauce and whatever else makes a taco ‘supreme.’ I should go get that.”

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