Osco inefficiencies
After getting my hair cut by a man who called me Sweetie and honey (I like my hair cut and this particular stylist has also done hair design for some shows I've liked), I decided to run some errands. This stylist, who is actually named John, confessed that he really hopes the Cubs lose today since it took him 40 minutes to get home to Andersonville last night. He admits to living in the building that houses the neo-futurarium but never having seen a show there because he's scared off by the long lines. I am appalled and tell him that either my ensemble-member office-mate or I (he cuts both of our hair) will pull tokens for him to cut the line. He proceeds to name drop Chicago actors who get their hair cut by him, but when I also know all of them (why do you think I went to him, for chrissakes??) he lays off it. We discuss metrosexuals and he claims that Sidetracks is a shitty bar. Even though I really like my haircut, I'm not sure I can get over that bit of heresy.

back to errands.

first stop: Osco. Which is, one might note, directly across the street from Jewel. They are, of course, the same company and seem to be converging into the same store. To whit, Osco now has 2 aisles of liquour and 2 of food, while Jewel has added yet another aisle for drugstore "products". What, I then ask, is the point of keeping the stores seperate? and where are the products that are being displaced for the new, overlapping, items? It's amazing, but I can't tell what the hell is missing from either shop now that they have 4 aisles of their complement's specialty each.

Having never succeeded in leaving a drugstore with only what I "need", I stop to pick up a shopping cart. Except their aren't any. So I look for a basket. None of those either. hmmm. This could be my least expensive trip to osco ever.

I quickly determine that their are two cashiers on duty. One looks to be about 16, and the other is my least favorite. She's about a thousand years old, and always asks me if I've just moved to the neighborhood, and then tells me I look like her granddaughter. If I happen to be buying cat paraphinalia I hear all about her 2 cats. This would be ok if she weren't also the slowest cashier known to Jewel-Osco. Cat food is on my list for this stop. Since clearly I have to avoid her, I decide I will have to use the 16 year old, which means buying alcohol is out of the question, despite the baseball games in my future.

I quickly find what I came in to buy--body wash, cat food, and diet coke. I have to put back several impulse buys because of my lack of cart or basket. I find only a few things to buy that I don't "need", and they're all reasonable things that I should own.

I get in line behind the 16 year old. but the two people in front of me haven't judged age very well and are buying beer. So the cashier pages a manager (21 on 2! 21 on 2!) for a while. The manager rings up customer number 1 and walks away when anyone can see she should stick around for customer #2. I debate switching lines, right as I hear grandma-cashier inform the CPD officer in line that her cats have some sort of intenstinal infection. I remain where I am. The 16 year old pages again (21 on 2! 21 on 2!). in lane 3, grandma calls for a price check on "super duper porch cleaner" for the CPD officer. I wonder if my tax dollars are at work for this, or if the cop is off duty. Optimistically I assume the latter. 21 on 2! I need a 21 on 2!!

I ponder whether or not I can buy a Twix and still love myself in the morning and twiddle my well styled hair.

Price check on 3! 21 on 2!

This continues for, and I swear to god I am not exaggerating, 7 minutes. Finally the manager comes back, saying "I just did a 21 for you!" to my poor, mercifully unsocial, cashier. The price check reveals that "super duper porch cleaner" is $1.24 a bottle, not the $6.79 grandma cashier had charged.

Then, the guy in front of me with the miller high-life (ugh) realizes he doesn't have enough cash, so switches to credit. His first card is rejected, so he goes with the Discover Card. He's buying one case of Miller high-life. That's some intense credit-card maxing out.

Meanwhile in aisle 3, the CPD officer has just gotten change and is leaving the store. The next person in that line (who, if I had judged differently, was standing where I would have been) puts his stuff down. But grandma has something else in mind, namely choosing this moment to put the baskets piled up behind her back by the door. It is finally my turn at aisle 2.

But my earnest young cashier takes this moment to page again "we need more cashiers". I look behind me and see a line stretching into the card aisle. All behind me (avoiding grandma, probably out of experience) and all carrying cases of beer. Ah playoff season in Wrigleyville.

I'm finally checked through, $21.76 deducted from my bank account and two twix bars longing to be eaten at the bottom of my bag. I have been in Osco for 30 minutes. Since it took me less than 10 to find what I needed (after all, I go to this particular establishment frequently), this is ridiculous.

I decide against running more errands, and return home.

It should be noted that my worst fears about a Friday night playoff game combined with a garbage hauler strike were not realized. I don't know how, but the neighborhood is pretty clean. Crowded with people waiting for the game (then 3 hours in the future), but otherwise clean. I may disagree with a lot of things Mayor Daly the younger does (like carving up airport runways at 2am), but he's come through here. The alleys are crowded with residential trash, but there's no trash on the streets.



- posted by Heidi @ 2:25 PM