So, I may have mentioned that I have become an old lady in terms of sleeping schedule. My eyes pop open at around 6 am every morning and I’m hopeless for going back to sleep. By 10pm (often earlier) I’m so exhausted that the only reasonable thing to do is go to sleep (or force myself to stay up until it is 10 so I can feel less pathetic).
Well, because of this I’ve been making my weekly grocery shopping trips at around 8 or 9 am. Have you ever been in WalMart at 9am on a Sunday? It’s like a different WORLD.
For one, they’re doing all the restocking. I spend my mornings dodging around employees who seem to be restocking absolutely everything I need to get to. I need lunch meat? There’s a giant cart and a woman in a blue shirt standing in front of it. Need pop? Two skids of water bottles and two large men in the aisle.
Also, it’s eerily quiet. Most of the people of WalMart are still blissfully asleep or having large breakfasts in front of the TV. Gone are the screaming children. Gone are the large women with suspicious stains on their clothes. A few alert, quick moving grocery shoppers like myself peruse the aisles. But mostly. Silence.
|To make reading Moby Dick easier, acquire Cheese Whales.|
Another thing I learned today is that the employees are at their least happy. I happened to finally remember my reusable grocery bags this morning for the first time EVER, and let me tell you, my cashier’s face when I sheepishly handed them over was less than pleasant. I had deeply offended her by throwing things off, by handing her these different bags. It was a big deal, and she was not happy. Never mind the environment. Never mind not having 10 thousand plastic bags to dispose of when I got home. I had messed with her system and for that, I was evil.
It’s one of those funny things I’m learning about in social psychology–we always ascribe these behaviors to personality rather than the situation. My instant thought was “God, what a b****.” But then, because I always let my psychology studies seep into my every day life, I thought “But wait! Personality bias!” And I started thinking of situational reasons for her displeasure. Maybe she was unsatisfied with her job (likely). Maybe she was at the tail end of an overnight shift and had been there since 1am or something. And the list goes on.
So there you have it. My exciting Sunday morning WalMart adventure and the little applied-social-psych lesson it taught me. Don’t hate your angry cashier. Maybe she’s just tired. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s actually just a b****.