The line at Schnucks qualifies as its own subculture. It’s like a fraternity, or sorority, or this university, where you pay an unnecessary amount of money in order to associate with a certain group of people.
Well, today, I got to associate with Bill and Bill and the guy in front of me and the guy behind.
The guy in front caused one of those standard situations where he had specific instructions for the bag-dude. But they didn’t go over well. And then to show that he was a good-natured old man, he made a joke about the cashier messing something up. That also didn’t go over well. Then to show that it was all just a joke, he pointed out (haha, whaddyaknow) that both the cashier and bag-dude were named Bill – but really, could they make sure to put each loaf of bread in a separate bag.
Meanwhile, the guy in back put one of those dividers on the conveyer belt and then added: 1) a bottle of wine, 2) a can of Folgers and 3) a pack of cigarettes. So I was like “Looks like you got all your anti-drugs there” and he was all “No, this is the only real anti-drug” and he put on a giant bag of habenero chips. And then the cashier was like “$5.36″ and I was all “wait a minute, I’ve got another dollar.”
Before I get into the real point of this column, I’d like to remind you of some things I’ve said in the past:
First, from August 30th, 2001:
The first kind of cell phone user is what I call the “hypocrite.” This is the person who a week ago would have gladly signed onto this column with me. Now, however, they’re citing things such as “cheaper long distance” as a valid reason for setting their pants to “vibrate” even while we’re in the middle of a heartfelt conversation at a secluded off-campus coffee shop.
Then, from October 16th, 2001:
My roommate Brent just informed me that no Sprint phones in the St. Louis have been ringing since this weekend. Now, my initial reaction was “this is great,” but on further consideration, I think I’m going to upgrade my reaction to a mixture of finger pointing, laughter, and a little dance that I do with my own wall phone as I push the button to cycle between “Ringer A” and “Ringer B.”
Perhaps the best way to break the news is to print a conversation I am having right now with Jake Elster.
“I’m so dead, I haven’t finished my column yet.”
“What are you writing about.”
“Cell Phones.”
“Oh yeah, bashing them, of course.”
“Yeah, except I bought one today.”
“Yeah, I just sold out a week ago.”
There, see, you have to do it. (By the way, the tie-in is that Schnucks is near the Sprint store).
Anyway, I’m too mad at myself to be at all amusing. But check out my new self, according to the Sprint Manual. I hope you enjoy it because I might get sued.

1. I am attractive and smile wide when talking on my phone.
2. My phone will “simplify [my] life,” apparently by allowing people to call me at all times and make me do stuff for them.
3. There are many “things that demand [my] attention” and the best way to organize them is by having a different ringer for callers and voicemail.
4. I “can express [my] personality” via special extra-cost ringers.
5. I have a “busy lifestyle” and the phone is my only friend.

Despite the promises of Spring, my life hasn’t changed. I’m still short. Nobody calls me. But now I have this carcinogen in my pocket all the time. Oh, and now I can play Pocket Pachelbel.
Great.

Popularity: unranked [?]

 Print This Post

This entry was posted on Friday, March 15th, 2002 at 12:00 pm and is filed under Cadenza. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.