Can I help you?
teaching an old dog an old trick
"But how do you know you are doing it right?" I asked.
She looked at me with a pitying expression. Her lips were pursed and I could see the ring of fine wrinkles surrounding her mouth that spoke of a long history of sucking on cigarettes.
"Honey - there are only a few ways to do it, you should be able to figure it out."
My eyes flicked quickly from her face, to it, and back again. I didn't try to hide my puzzled expression. As inexperienced as I may be, I felt it was part of her job to guide me. I was the customer here after all!
Her expression turned forelorn and the pity was evident in her eyes. "Haven't you EVER done this before?"
I shook my head. "Never." I said flatly.
"How is that possible?" she asked astonished.
I shrugged my shoulders but I could feel my face getting hot. "I just never have had the need or the opportunity!"
"Heven't you ever had a girlfriend? Aren't you married? You sure look like you oughta be married!"
"Of course!" I exclaimed hotly. "I have been married 43 years this year!"
I was afraid her eyes were going to bulge to the point of falling out of her head onto the ground.
"And you've never done this before?!"
My shoulders shrugged again of their own accord. "Should I have?"
She shook her head, the pitying look now even more pronounced and severe than before. She sighed deeply in a way that brought back memories of every time I had ever disappointed my mother.
"Look," I said, trying to keep my voice in check, "I get that I am some kind of anomally to you, a freak I guess. But I came to you for help. I assume this is part of the service...part of your job. So are you going to help me or not?"
She rolled her eyes, then nodded. I guess she was coming to the conclusion that this was her cross to bear for the day.
"Ok," she sighed, "just put it in the slot. Things will kind of happen on their own from there."
I looked. I saw no slot. "What slot?"
"Jesus-tap-dancing-CHRIST!" She muttered, grabbing it away from me and shoving it in amost too quickly and too forcefully for me to follow.
And that is how I learned to check out in the self-service line at the FoodyKing!