Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Check Out Line

I know some of us Americans out there are accustomed to a leisurely experience when buying groceries. I am not sure if the same goes for purchasing non-food wares, but at least I know with groceries, it is anything but leisurely.
Back in the good ol' US of A the cashiers probably thought I was mentally slow or on drugs, because boy did I take my time looking for my savings card, money, id, you name it. But you could talk to them. If you wanted to.

Here in Germany, when they say halooo, that is about it, then the total cost, then wiedersehen- see you again. (Not with that cockiness, missy) I guess in America you get used to the grocery stores. I have lived in a couple different places there, so at this point probably any grocery store I encounter throughout the Us I will know, and is probably a partner of another one I have frequented before. It just seems weird to have totally new stores from which to buy food. The names seem weird too. Lidl, Hit, Rewe, Norma. And of course here in Little Istanbul, there a bunch of Turkische markets that I am not sure even have names.

Maybe the cashiers in America are rushing in a way, but you don't notice it because usually there was someone bagging your groceries while you took care of the money business. But here there is no bagger, and no bags even. You can of course, by a number of any different type of bags at the counter. I guess this is good for recycling and getting people, like me, to reuse the bags we have, or else invest in those canvas ones.

Sometimes I try to get all my purchases into my bags before she asks for money, but I always fail. I guess I still have work to do actually, because usually I do not even have my stuff off the counter before the next persons sheisse is being forcibly slid down into my pile.

It is a real race let me tell you. I f I ever want to cause no trouble, I just throw everything into my cart, and sort out the bags and whatnot at another spot, which seems to be the general practice. Just another moment in the day of an American in Germany.

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