Bacon, Chocolate Ice Cream and Bees

I’ve been craving some bacon and chocolate lately so I went to the grocery story with ten bucks to get a quart of chocolate ice cream.  With any luck I hoped to find a deal that I might be able to acquire two quarts so imagine my joy when I get there to find a huge variety of chocolatey delights for only $1.99 each!!

I stand in line with my four, count ’em, 4 quarts of chocolate chunky frozen goodness and ten dollar bills.  The line’s moving quickly but all I can think about is pouring bacon crumbles over this stuff.  My turn at the register comes and the cashier quickly works up my total, which looks like it’s going to be over 25 bucks, then he swipes my “club card” and the final total is … $15.85.

“Wait”, I say.  “I think these are supposed to be $1.99 each … does that seem right?”

The cashier pulls out his store circular and checks.  Sure enough, that’s the deal-eo!  But there’s a limit on two quarts per purchase.  There’s always a catch.  Okay, fine.  I just really need some chocolate.  He takes two of the quarts and removes them from the total.  And from my bags.  But I need to check which ones I’m allowed to purchase because one of the four isn’t as chocolately as the others and sure enough, it’s in my bag already and needs to be swapped asap.  The bacon to chocolate ratio is very important.

Suddenly, a manager pops up out of nowhere and overrides the action, then he’s gone.  Bam, these guys are fast, but I actually want one of the flavors he’s taken out and I tell the cashier while I attempt to swap it with one in my bag.

He abruptly says, “May I have your club card again sir!”

I try to tell him about my swap idea while fumbling through my wallet and pockets looking for the precious club card that grants these $1.99 chocolate wishes, then he realizes that he still has my club card and swipes it for me.  Now I can see he’s barely paying attention and certainly unaware of my choco-baco dilemma.  So I try to explain again, “I’d prefer one of these flavors over the one already in the bag.”

“That’ll be $3.98, sir.”

Damn!  Why is he battering me like this?  I hand him the four bucks and try to explain my preference in flavor once again.

ZIP! ZIP! DING! … Ca-Ching!  Lickity-Split!  My dollar bills go into the till, the change dispenser spits out my two pennies and the cashier hands me my receipt and says, “May I have your club card again sir!”

Okay, now I’m thinking, WTF?!  Does he know how to work this frakkin thing or what?  This guy is about to drive me completely bacos!  I’m usually soft spoken and tend to mumble but now it’s clear there’s some hearing impairment or selective judgement at work here.  I mean, this guy is going so fast and he’s not even looking at me.

So just as calmly as before, I repeat myself,  “I’d really prefer one of these flavors instead, please.”

Then at last!!  He reaches for the other quart.  He grabs it.  BEEP!  Then the other one.  BEEP!  The second pair of quarts go into my bag.

“That’ll be $3.98, sir.”

So, finally, I’m like, “Oh, I see what you did there!”

So now I’m chuckling, and I say, “I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t listening to me and it turns out you heard me just fine”.


I bet he knows a thing or two about how bees can cause water damage.  Hmmmmm.

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