Dollar Store Profiling

One day last week, I decided to zip to the Dollar Store before my hubby went to work.  During the winter, we began to feed birds in the back yard.  We all enjoyed seeing our little feathery friends eating at our homemade feeder, so it was time to restock.

I dressed in a hurry, in bumming around the house clothes.  No makeup, but I did remember to run a brush through my hair before I left the house.  Our dollar store is only a minute away, and I knew right where the bird supplies were kept, so I grabbed a bag of seeds and returned to the counter to purchase them.  This all seemed very normal.  And on any other day, this would be a so-boring-why-are-you-even-writing-about-it experience.

On that day, however, a new guy was doing the cashier work.  From his demeanor and his nametag, I surmised he was a manager of some sort.  First clue: he was in an exceptionally good mood.  Dollar store cashiers are not, as a habit, in a good mood.  He must be paid well, I thought.  (Note: I kept this thought to myself.)

He cheerfully rung up my purchases, and, before giving me the total, said the following:

Cashier:  "Do you drink tea?"

Me:  "Yes - sometimes."  (Why are you asking me?)

Cashier:  "I picture you sitting by your kitchen window every morning, drinking tea and watching the birds.  Am I right?"  (What is this?  Are you going to tell my fortune?)

Me:  "Well, yes, I would probably enjoy that..." (but I can't while away my day watching birds because I have to homeschool my kids)

Cashier: "And you read lots of books." (This is not a question.  This is a statement.  I think he's profiling me.)

Me:  "Yeess....."  (Okay - I'm getting weirded out. Why are we having this conversation?)

Cashier:  And you're a church goer. (Again, not a question.  Just let me take my birdseed and I'm outta here!!)

Me:  "....yes I am."


I left the store that day feeling like I had been psychologically analyzed...without my permission.

Strange as it may seem, I think the guy was just trying to make friendly conversation.  Maybe he is going to night school and currently takes a psychology class or something.  I had no idea I was that easy to figure out.  I guess I must really look like a birdwatching, tea-drinking, book reading, church goer.

As I drove back home, I grinned to myself - all I could think was "I sure am glad he didn't see my bird socks!"  A cute gift from my mom.  I actually put them on so I would remember to buy bird seed.  I get distracted by the kids and I forget what I'm doing frequently.  So there they were, ankle socks with little birdies all over them.

I wonder what he would have to say about that?
 


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