Price check.


You know who shits me these days?, bitter old check out ladies.

I think they know their days are numbered, their time of power is waning. No more will they take a set against you, waiting until they get to an inappropriate item, then foist it aloft yelling, “Price check on Home brand Lube!!”.

Today i was asked,

‘Do you want your Disney collectors cards?’,

Yes please, my little nephews collect them.

‘Here’s three’,

Aren’t I supposed to get one for every twenty dollars spent?,

‘That’s all I have’,

Can you get some more?,


Then came the stare down, my patented ‘Riiiiiiiiiiiiight’, and the delightful discomfort of the people waiting in line behind me.

She was treating me like a dealer wielding power over a junkie. I gathered up my creme fraiche and hissed, ‘Self service!!’.

Your days of crushing loaves of bread will soon be over honey.


A few months ago a guy at Woolies in Wollongong started scanning my stuff,

“How’s your day sir!?”,

With the weight of my reality i responded,

Mate, it’s 7.00pm on a Saturday night, I’m shopping alone, and have soup for one in my trolley, how do you think my fucking night is going??.

His eyes lit up . .

“Thank you, THANK YOU!, I have to ask everyone that question!, the only thing people ever say is, ‘Fine’. THANK YOU for telling me the truth!”.

The gay boy check out chicks love me too. I always present my items for scanning, first in order of cleaning products, then bottled goods, then cold/frozen groceries, and lastly bread, in its own bag, ‘Of course sir’.

I always get a knowing nod from them.

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