The Path of the Bookseller

Some things spotted while zooming from store to store on a day off (of which I have far too many):

At Target, a wall of sheets, pillows, quilts, and the like were on clearance. One sign proclaimed, hanging askew from a shelf, proclaimed that everything was at least 90% off. Another, shoved onto the shelf next to it, said that everything was at least 30% off. And a sign lying beside that said that everything was at least 50% off.

I flagged down an employee to ask which was accurate. He looked at them, picked them all up, shuffled them, then put back the 30% sign.

Picking up a comforter set, he pointed to a tiny red sticker. “See this? It’s whichever of these on the thing is cheapest. And you look here, and there’s the discount.” Sure enough, on the top right corner of the sticker, in 4-point type or so, was “75.”

He tucked the other two signs under his arm. “Haven’t never been nothing here at 90%,” he said, and headed off. Despite the triple negative, his meaning was clear.

And I got a really nice twin quilted throw for $6.74.

At T J Maxx, I found a couple useful items (including a Bluetooth headset for $7, which I haven’t tried yet). As I stood in line, I heard a mechanical voice call out, “Cashier number 4 please. Cashier number 6 please. Cashier number 5 please…”

I thought that it was summoning a cashier to each of those registers, but I saw that there were indeed workers there. It gradually dawned on the other customers and me that it was announcing that the cashiers were available, not that they were needed. I wonder if anyone had tested the announcements before instituting them.

I then hit the butcher shop (where they know me, and I tend to always get the same things) and a grocery store. There, a belligerent man was browbeating an employee to make sure that he was getting only the best produce. It was quite evident, though the man obviously didn’t realize it, that he had no idea what good produce even looked like. The rest of us shared glances of amusement.

I headed to the bus stop, but realized that, despite having gotten $20 cash back at the grocery store, I didn’t have the smaller cash needed for the bus. I stopped into a bakery on that block.

After the other customers and I stood around for about five minutes, a cashier meandered out from the back. I tried to ask her some questions about the baked goods, but she apparently spoke so little English that she couldn’t understand them.

I ended up picking out a pint of non-dairy ice cream to have with the cholent that I was going to make for Saturday’s lunch. It cost $4.59, which meant that I got three five dollar bills back along with the 41 cents in coins. I still didn’t have the two one-dollar bills needed for the bus, so I asked the cashier if she could break them. She looked at me with a total lack of comprehension.

I gave up, went to the Subway a few doors down, and got a diet cola, and the appropriate change.

On the bus, the woman next to me, smartly dressed with a diamond nose-ring,  lectured me about Jesus. I didn’t understand much of what she was murmuring either, but at least she was pleasant. I thanked her, hopped off the bus, and schlepped my packages home.