I was just in the Schnucks Culinaria, getting my lunch for the rest of this week and next. I’d bagged some oranges, picked out some good looking raw veggies, veggie dip, some crackers, two kinds of cheeses that I had sliced and bagged at their deli, fruit and some nuts. Real healthy stuff!
I walked over to pay and saw that there were no workers staffing the check-out counters; the only way to pay was to go to one of the self-scan stations. I spied a manager talking to an employee and managed to catch her eye. When she looked my way, I tried to gesture that I needed to be checked out and, although my arms were full, she got my meaning.
“Use the self-checkout,” she called out.
“I don’t want to,” I called back. “Don’t you have anyone who can check me out?”
“No,” she replied.
I walked over to one of the vacant stations that required a worker, and she raised her voice, “I just told you there’s no one to check you out. What are you doing?”
“Setting this stuff down and leaving,” I answered. She gave me a look like she couldn’t comprehend why I would do such a thing, so I told her, “I don’t work for Schnucks and I don’t want to.”
Now I’m back in my office and my stomach is growling — in downtown St. Louis.
United Media Guild