Tuesday, October 06, 2009

"Get Me Out!"

At that moment you are checking out of the grocery store, you have aprox 2.3 seconds to scan the lines and the cashiers manning them to know which is the fastest line to pick.

Lines with men cashiers always go much faster than cashiers with chicks.  Girls can't lift as much or as fast and have the tendency to ask the opportunity for more wasted time, "And how is your day?"

Men are strong, lifting soda pop cases and gallons of milk as if they were feathers, and blow through each customer as they would a simple task; get out, get out, get out.

Call me sexist, but to find the fastest check-out line you must look for the following:
1) Carts filled with just a few items. (Over stuffed carts take hours)
2) Shoppers without children.  (That battle for that one piece of candy the kid took of the eye level display is worth at least 4-6 minutes of time that you could have been out of the store!)
3) Shoppers holding no paper in their hands.  (I'm all for saving money but when I need to go, a lady with a handful of coupons or daily store ads just means trouble - get out of her line)
4) Men Cashiers (see above)
5)  Shoppers who look like they have someplace to go.   (The older man shopping at 2pm has no plans for the rest of the day and could start a converation with your male cashier about the price of cookies and you'll be stuck)

Let's review...
Pick the line with:
Carts with less items, No kids, No coupons, Men at the lead, and rushed shoppers!

Hope this helps make shopping go quick so you can get home ..... to do other chores that just never seem to go away.

Friday, October 02, 2009


I was stopped at a light enjoying the five minutes of peace without any children.

As I slowly looked to my right, a dark haired man stared back at me from the next car.

The handsome man was waving at me as if I was in a dream and he was the one snapping me out of it.

He smiled.

I smiled.  Did I smile?

He rolled down the window of his very nice car.

I rolled down the window to my old, dirty I'm-a-mom-mini-van.  Were we going to talk?

The beautiful stranger with exotic skin and perfect white teeth spoke, “Are you going left or straight?”

The comic in me fought to hold the first honest words that came to my mind, “I’m going wherever you are.”

Instead I realized my blinker wasn’t on and this man was only concerned about getting around me.

“Oh, I’m straight,” I said before adding quickly, “I mean I’m going straight.”

I laughed as I tried to hide my embarrassment.

The stranger laughed back, “You have a beautiful smile.”

I no longer needed a car.  I floated home.

Me, the happily married 40ish lady driving a mom-mobile with three fully visible car seats, had a young man in a hot car flirting with me. ME. On a day where I'm un-showered, un-makeduped, wearing flip-flops and a maternity bra, not cause I’m pregnant but cause it’s the only bra I have with it's elastic still intact.

Yes ladies, there is a God.  Or a lovely guardian angel reminding me I may be a Mom, but I’m still alive.