Scene: Me in a long line at Jewel. My Super Power is the ability to always choose the slowest moving line. If there are three registers open, no matter which one I pick, it will grind to a halt.
Finally it’s my turn and the young checkout clerk (what do they call them these days?) processes my order. He gets to my booze and has to get someone who is 21 to push a button.
Yes that’s right, the checkout clerk is not empowered to push the button because he might do this for his underage friends who might want to buy alcohol while he’s working. Like teenagers don’t have a million other ways to get alcohol and other gateway drugs.
We have to wait for eternity (usually a minute or two but that ONE time it was upwards of 5 minutes) for the one 21 year old dude on staff for such an occasion to walk over and press a button. Sometimes its a older lady who I imagine ponders the exact sequence of events that lead to her working at a grocery store in her golden years.
I’m not one to shout the Nanny State Warcry, but still, it’s a little much. We have soda taxes and plastic bag taxes and technically we card everybody even if it is obvious they served in World War I.
Maybe we could just program the registers to scan my driver’s license so we can avoid the 2-5 minute wait. Or maybe we could just trust the kid. I’ve heard that giving teenagers a little responsibility is a good thing.
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