Those Beans Don't Scan, Sheila!

I needed to go on a decongestant and low-fat ice cream run during work hours today and, since the nearest place that stocks both these items is CVS, I ended up there. 

Driving time from work to CVS: 2 minutes

Picking out items time: 3 minutes

Standing in line while the one person ahead of me was paying time: 7 minutes!

Listening to cursing under breath from old guy behind me in line time: 4 minutes

Wondering why it took seven minutes long for one person to check out? 

Let me walk you through it.

The lady in front of me was buying six small bags of jelly beans. (Why she didn't just buy one big, inexpensive bag of jelly beans and divvy it up at home, I have no idea. That's her biz.) Anyhow, the cashier couldn't get the scanner to "read" the jelly beans. After fumbling around at it a bit, the cashier got on the PA, "Sheila to the front, please." 

"Thank God. Sheila's on her way. Sheila'll make it all better," I think to myself. (Who else would I be thinking to?)

Sheila, the Honcho on Premises, waddles up to the check out, and the cashier tells her, "I can only get one of them to scan."

What??!!

So, I'm waiting for Honcho Sheila to go crazy on the cashier (whose name I never did catch) and tell her to just push the damn buttons for "times six", since the lady's buying six of the same item.

No dice.

Honcho Sheila makes some attempts at scanning the jelly beans and, when she finds it ain't working, she stomps off. The cashier and customer just stand there, as do I - wondering if there are any other clerks working and if they could pu-leeze open another register so Mr. Swears-Like-A-Sailor and I can get on with our day.

Honcho Sheila comes back with MORE of the un-scannable jelly beans and proceeds to try scanning them. 

"Dammit, Sheila! Those beans don't scan! Go to Plan B! You have keys to the register, don't you?! Use 'em, Sheila! Shit, Girl, that's what they're for!!" I'm screaming in my head, trying to look calm on the outside, as if I'm one of those people who is heavily into yoga or meditation or just really digs hearing "Endless Love" on the piped-in music or something.

Suddenly, Sheila gets one of the bags to scan.

It's an Easter candy miracle!

Two down, four to go, ladies!

We're on our way!

Now, I am getting a wee bit impatient about standing there, swinging my basket of decongestant and low-fat ice cream so it bumps my knees in rhythm to "The Pleasure Principle", which is only barely drowning out the string of cuss words coming from Popeye the Sailor Man behind me, but, I have to admit that I'm also getting a little sucked into the drama of it all. Will Sheila and the cashier lady EVER succeed in scanning six bags of jelly beans? After having invested six minutes into this story, it becomes oddly compelling. 

I was actually a little disappointed when another cashier appeared out of thin air and signaled me over. She rang up my order in about ten seconds. I had the cash in hand. She gave me my change and receipt. No dramatic tension. No story arc. Ho hum.

As I walked through the doors and back out into the world, I glanced over at the first register. Honcho Sheila, the cashier lady, and the customer were all still there, plugging away on the old Scan the Jelly Beans Project. I'll never know how for sure how their story ended, but I hope it ended well. They deserve it after all they've been through.

I committed a moving violation to bring you this picture, 

which isn't even integral to understanding the story 

now that I think of it.