That Person

A while back I was standing in line at the grocery store when the lady in front of me decided to pay by check. My first thought was this: Who still pays by check? Anyway, she extracted her checkbook and a pen and began to write at a slow, methodical pace that could easily be confused by those less attuned to the situation as the complete absence of all motion.

Meanwhile, I twiddled my thumbs.

I thought about scratching my itchy nose but didn’t, because I didn’t want it to be mistaken for picking.

I tapped my foot.

I thought about what I was going to do that night.

I thought about what I was going to do that week.

I thought about the last year of my life, and the highs and lows thereof.

I thought about how fun it would be to be named Conway Twitty.

I thought about the last five years of my life, and what I’d accomplished, and what I’d hoped to but hadn’t.

I thought about the world I lived in, and all of its incredible complexities that one could never hope to understand unless given an incredibly long time to do nothing but ponder.

I’d just about figured out the meaning of life when the lady finished writing the check. I looked up and rubbed my eyes as she handed the check to the cashier. Not surprisingly, the check wasn’t accepted by the cash register, probably because the check slot hadn’t been used in several years and was filled with cobwebs.

With the cashier’s urging, the lady then proceeded to write out a second check, which took about as long as the first, and which was again rejected by the cash register, much to the surprise of the cashier, the lady, and absolutely nobody else. At this point the lady dug into her purse, pulled out a credit card, and said, “I guess I’ll use this.”

The gnashing of my teeth lasted for quite some time after that, as my brain futilely tried to conceive why the lady hadn’t just use her credit card right away. In addition, I couldn’t help but wonder why was I always stuck behind “that person”? Get with the times!

This incident has been on my mind lately, and I’ve come to realize that it was unfair to get angry with the check writing lady. Nobody sets out to be “that person”. It just happens somewhere along the way. One day you’re doing just fine, and then you’re suddenly struggling to keep up with the changing times and are constantly inconveniencing others with your lack of adaptability.

Now, simply by using this logic, I’ve realized that there will most likely come a point in time where I’ll have become “that person”.

Or has it happened already? #CueOminousPipeOrganMusic

You see, I like to pay by cash, at least when it’s a minor purchase. I think that it’s fiscally responsible. In my opinion, always swiping a credit card can easily lead to runaway spending. By paying cash, you only have a finite amount on hand at all times, and when you run out, you have to make a conscious decision to get more, either by visiting an ATM or stealing a child’s lunch money.

Sidebar: All government spending should be paid for exclusively with cash, with each sponsoring senator or representative personally counting it out in denominations of no greater than twenty dollar bills, taking directly from the treasury. Said government officials would not be able to perform any other duties, such as attending swank parties, taking bribes, or lying under oath, while they were still in the process of distributing said cash. #DebtCrisisSolved #Brilliant!

Anyway, now I’ve begun to wonder if by always paying with cash, am I inconveniencing others? Do those in line behind me roll their eyes when I force the cashier to count out thirty-seven cents in exact change because I didn’t swipe my card? Do they make eye contact with one-another and give little shakes of their heads, wondering why anybody would be so stuck in the stone ages as to still be using cash?

After dwelling on this for a while, I’ve come to the conclusion that I just don’t care, which means that I very well could be “that person”. This is because one of the hallmarks of being “that person” is that you don’t care if you’re “that person”. In fact, I view it as my right to pay with cash, and if anybody cares, they can just find another checkout line.

So from now on, I’m going to try not to get so annoyed when I encounter “that person”. I mean, I don’t want to be a hypocrite. In fact, perhaps I’ll even encourage them. “Go ahead and write out a check!” I’ll cheer loudly if I ever find myself behind the check-writing lady again. “Do it your way, even if it takes forever! Never compromise!” Then when it’s finally my turn, several millennia later, I’ll break a twenty and make the cashier count out exact change, even though I’ll have a credit card tucked away in my wallet. It’ll be liberating. It’ll make me feel wonderful to not be influenced by contemporary conventions and norms. And it’ll be terrible for you if you’re stuck behind me.