Receipts

Dear Girl Behind The Counter At The Convenience Store In The NBC Building,

Why do you hate America?

I know you probably don't appreciate the complete havoc you wreak during my daily trip downstairs to your store, and maybe I'm either too laid back or too conflict-averse to bother raising this with you, but can you please, for the love of god, stop giving me a receipt for my purchases. I know, it sounds like I'm making a big deal out of nothing here, but bear with me....

You see me standing here, and I've got a protein shake in one hand, and my wallet in my other hand, and I haven't put my wallet away yet because part of this transaction is you giving me change. Now, maybe it's my own fault that I didn't have the time to precalculate the amount of the purchase plus tax and hand you exactly four dollars and thirty seven cents, but, frankly, I wasn't expecting this to be a big deal.

So I've got a wallet in one hand, a big cup in the other, and you're now handing me back the change. And my problem starts where you hand me a big fat receipt sandwich, with the bills underneath, receipt in the middle, and the change on top, like a big goddamned precarious Jenga that's ready to spill. Do you realize how difficult it is to sort all of that out with no free hands? It's impossible, that's how difficult. Impossible.

I BOUGHT WATER AND GUM. I'm returning neither. This wasn't a plasma television or a bicycle, and you DON'T work at Sharper Image. But now I'm left bumbling with all of this in my hand and I'm trying to pull a fancy coin sorting technique with my pinky so that my coins all flow into my pocket so that I can drop the receipt in the bag (I'd rather just throw it on the floor to be honest, WHILE YOU WATCH ME) and then put the bills back in my wallet. Because, yeah I'm not carrying a red polka dot hobo sack at the end of a stick that I can just toss this all into. No, like 99% of your other customers, I too have a wallet to sort my bills into. DO YOU WANT CHAOS, SALES CLERK GIRL?

Oh, and I'm under pressure here. DO YOU SEE ALL THESE PEOPLE STANDING BEHIND ME? That's a line. Every second I stand here screwing around with your receipt sandwich is a second wasted from each of their lives too. Times ten people, times every day for a year -- you do the math. IF YOU CAN, THAT IS, WITHOUT YOUR REGISTER.

Does anyone really want their receipt for gum and water? Are people scanning these things into Google databases for future reference? I know times are tough, but are we now BUDGETING gum and water? Christ almighty.

By the way, I know it's not just you -- I know that every one of the girls who works next to you behind the counter does the same exact thing. IS THIS PART OF THE TRAINING PROGRAM THERE? Should I be discussing this with your manager? Is that asshole doing this on purpose? Tomorrow I'm gonna watch his face as this goes down and, so help me god, if I see him smirking, I'm stuffing his cake hole with a receipt, a pack of Dentyne, and a bottle of Dasani.

Remember when Obama ran on "Hope" and "Change"? Guy is a fucking genius, that's what. Because yes, I'd like my change, and I hope you can give it to me in a way that makes some fucking sense. If I wanted a brain teaser I know where the Rubik's cubes are. However, unlike the Rubik's cube, I can't find a Youtube video with the solution to the problem you give me every day.

And you know this whole economic crisis we're facing? Yeah, well, it doesn't take a degree in economics to see what's really going on here. If it weren't for the billions of man hours per year that working schmucks like me wasted trying to unravel the clusterscrew of receipt and mayhem you spat in my hands every day, we might actually be, oh, you know, making stuff. But the terrorists have already won, haven't they, sales clerk girl, and you're in on it. YOU'RE ALL IN ON IT.