I’ve put in writing way too many times that if I ever snap and murder someone, it’s going to be in the Asheville Trader Joe’s Parking lot.
Last Monday, however, I ended up getting murderous well before the parking lot, on the highway en route to Trader Joe’s, when I found myself behind a god-damn moped (which the Google-AI overview tells me is illegal—”traditional low-speed mopeds are generally not legal on highways due to safety concerns and low-speed limitations”). The part of my brain that is trying like anything to be a more empathetic person told me to be patient, that this guy was most likely struggling and this was his only mode of transportation since who in their right mind would take a moped on a highway, but then, after an excruciating 8 minutes of following his legitimate 12 MPH sojourn, I was able to get around him and saw that he was wearing a cape, a viking-helmet-esque helmet, and vaguely steampunk-looking goggles. That same try-to-be-empathetic brain portion told me to be nice, there might be a mental illness at play, but the majority part of my brain—the part that’s becoming increasingly fed up with the human race—overrode that part and arrived at Trader Joe’s pissed at the overwhelming amount of attention-seeking behavior alive and well in this fine town.
But then, I had such a perfectly good bizarre interaction with a Trader Joe’s cashier, that for a time, my faith in humanity—or at least amusement towards it—was restored.
I got to the front of the line to pay for my current obsession—the pre-made sweet onion salad kit (#healthlyfe)…ok, and fine: the pictured peanut, butter caramel-coated popcorn (#sloblyfe)—and the cashier greeted me with a very flamboyant, “Hey hun, that jacket slays.”
I thanked him, and he went on to say something to the effect of, “Looks like someone is being a health-conscious king this week,” before turning to his fellow TJ’s bagger to chat about how much he thought Lady Gaga was going to own his Spotify Wrapped.
I paid for my three bags of salad, thanked the cashier, and started walking away. “No problem,” he said in the same flamboyant tone, before his voice dropped a couple of octaves and he said, “Have a very blessed night and holiday.” It literally stopped me in my tracks. I turned around, and didn’t even mean to stare him down, but must’ve, because then he offered, “uh, need your receipt?” but back in the same swishy timbre as before.
I literally had to stop myself from laughing aloud as I walked out into my hated TJ’s parking lot, but didn’t get mad because my mood was lifted. As I told my friend Eric, whom I had to call to relay this strange interaction, “that man sparked so much joy for me tonight.”
Like, this is why ChatGPT will never be able to take over the world entirely. Because it could never make this shit up. People are just too weird and too unpredictable.
AshevilleExplorer 