My calling
I see one of my jobs in life as making check-out people at supermarkets laugh.
I think they have probably one of the more grinding jobs, and when you add bagging your groceries, one of the most tedious.
I’m not sure I could handle doing that on an eight-hour, five- or six-day a-week shift for any length of time. In fact, having just written this, I want to quit.
95% of the time the checkout person is female. They can be college students of course, and I don’t feel too bad for them. They won’t be there terribly long. They know that, too. But for others, well, this may be their job. This may be what they do.
So, as I place my groceries on the moving fan belt, I start thinking. What can I say that would be funny? That would make them laugh? To brighten their day for a minute.
One of my standby’s, when I face the check-out person, is to ask them, “Paper or plastic?” That usually gets a slight quizzical look, then a laugh.
On other occasions, in response to a particularly adept and quick bag packer, I might say, “Have you considered going for the packing record? There’s a contest this Saturday. The world record is 1 minute, 38 seconds.”
Once, the lady whizzing through my groceries, replied, “I’d win.”

Another time I was with my wife, and I said to the woman ringing up our groceries:
“Can we split the bill?”
She looked at me and then at my wife.
“Sure,” she said.
“I mean you and me,” I said.
Another time, I asked if there was a possibility of having songs played that matched the produce as you placed them on the belt. “Sugar, sugar,” for, well, sugar. “Watermelon Man,” “Strawberry Fields Forever,” etc.
And, yes, funny or not, I did say these things.
Still another, “If I guess the exact amount of the bill,” I told one particularly unhappy-looking checkout lady, “the manager says I can have all my groceries for free. You do know about that policy, don’t you?”
“As far as I’m concerned,” she said, deadpan, “you can have it all for free anyway.”
I declined, but I did get a laugh.
Yet another time, I asked the woman ringing up my groceries,
“What did I leave out?”
Or,
“Of all the things you see here, what’s your favorite?”
But, wait, there’s more.
When the check-out lady rang up a NY Strip Steak, I said,
“Can you open that here for me, please?”
And, one final bit, something I asked a checkout lady recently,
“Does the store accept gold?”
She laughed. “I don’t think so,” she said, “but I will.”
I’ll be appearing at a supermarket near you.