Maybe it's just me?

I had another run in with the crazy sandwich lady at the grocery store. No, I wasn't ordering a sandwich. I was just trying to buy some crackers. And yet...there she was.

First contact was from four aisles away, "Hey there ma'am, can I help you find something?"

Lady, I'm walking with a purpose toward the cracker aisle. How could I possibly need your assistance?

"No thanks, I'm just going to get some crackers."

And it begins...

Her: What kinda crackers you need to-day, ma'am?
Me: I don't know. I'm going to look and figure it out.
Her: Well, did you want wheat crackers or club crackers or soda crackers or animal crackers or...

Seriously, it was like Bubba Gump shrimp up in this joint.

Me: I really don't know yet. I'm going to go look at the crackers in the cracker aisle and I'll figure it out.
Her: Well, whatcha eatin' 'em with?
Me: I don't know. Possibly cheese.
Her: What kinda cheese you get?
Me: I haven't gotten any cheese yet.
Her: Well, do you want cheddar or swiss or colby or pepper jack or...

And again with Bubba Gump shrimp. She must have had to memorize this crap to get a job. Wonder how she can remember 37 different kinds of cheese, but she can't remember that I want to punch her in the throat?

Me: I just really don't know. I'll decide when I get to the cheese.
Her: What kind of cheese you get might change what kind of cracker you need.
Me: I'm aware. But I assure you I can figure all of this out by myself.

At this point, I turned and walked away. To the cracker aisle. Where I ponder the cracker dilemma.

"Ma'am, don't forget we got crackers on this side, too."

She followed me to the cracker aisle! Can I really get arrested for assault at this point? I mean, I have proof that this woman has harassed me before, right?

Me: Yes, thanks, I can see that.
Her: They cookies in this aisle, too. Don't you forget to be gettin' some cookies.
Me: I don't need any cookies.
Her: Child, cookies aren't about need. Cookies are about want.

Okay, that's a good point...

But I would like to select my crackers in peace. Obviously, that's not in the cards, so I grab a box of Reduced-Fat Wheat Thins and start to walk away.

Her: Ma'am, that cheese is over here.
Me: I know. I don't want cheese right now.
Her: I thought you was eatin' these crackers with cheese.
Me: I said I might eat them with cheese. But either way, I don't want any cheese right now. Thanks for your help.

You know that power walking thing women used to do in the mall back in the day (do people still do that? Really?)? Yeah, I did that...all the way to the check out. With her trying to keep up and talking about other uses for crackers and the usefulness of my particular choice of cracker in multiple scenarios.

Luckily I had already gotten everything else I needed. I planned to make guacamole at my desk when I got back to the office, so I already had the ingredients for that. Once I put my stuff down on the belt, crazy sandwich lady finally decided it was okay to leave me alone.

The poor woman at the checkout is so dumb it makes me sad. But she's quiet and polite, so I don't mind so much. Today's bagger (not to be confused with a baller, mind you) was a rather large young man. He bagged groceries for the two people in front of me, then started bagging mine as they came down the conveyor belt. There were three grocery bags lying in the area next to the conveyor belt, as he started bagging my stuff.

"Hey, are these yours?"

Um, how could they be mine? The first of my groceries just grazed your hand and you have yet to put it in a bag. What, did I sneak over and bag three bags of groceries while you were standing right there?

"Uh, no. You haven't bagged any of mine."

So he asks, "Whose are these, then?"

Yeah, I don't know, because I just got here. "Maybe the guy in front of me?"

"But he's gone..."

Actually, no, he's standing right behind you looking for his groceries.

This guy clearly hadn't been to grocery-bagging (not to be confused with tea-bagging) school. He only put two things in each bag, and he dropped my avocado in its bag from practically shoulder height. And he refused to put my crackers in a bag, for some odd reason. He looked at me like I was insane when I put them in one of the bags.

Aside from a bruised avocado, I got out relatively unscathed. And now I can recite 37 kinds of cheese and tell you the possible uses for all the cracker varieties. Maybe it's worth the extra ten-minute drive to go to the next closest grocery store?

I'm starting to wonder, though. Does everyone have these kinds of experiences at the grocery store? Or is it just me?