Go Away People

Today the cashier at Target was the type that wants to become overly interested in your life based on your purchases. She comments on the greetings cards I purchased and comments on certain food items. All the while I am thinking I wished I wore a t-shirt that said "I HATE PEOPLE." I certainly appreciate good customer service, but this conversation quickly turned into her offering up information about her carpel tunnel. I wanted to comment on the sweet arm brace she was wearing, and how I thought she looked like an epic hypochondriac, but the sweetheart that I am held my tongue. Really, who am I to judge how difficult it must be to work the cash register at Targhetto? It has to be pretty intense stress having to scan items (some of which are heavy) and read numbers off of a computer screen. Next time someone wants to comment on my purchases I am going to go back into the store and buy 712 condoms, 1 frozen bratwurst, 6 pair of size 42 women's' thong underwear, a 5 gallon pail of Vaseline and a 98 degrees CD. My instincts tell me that the cashier won't say too much.