Fantastic Experience for $31.96

I got my bridesmaid dress fitted today. It's going to cost an additional 35 bucks just because I'm not seven feet tall. But whatever. While the Ukrainian seamstress was poking pins in the hemline, I thought about the fact that my sister is going to commit her life to one person in less than 25 days. Commit her entire life. But I've never committed myself to anyone, so maybe it's easier than I think.

After getting my dress measured, I went to Rite Aid to pick up some drugs. The experience was more, yet still less, than I had imagined. My total came to $31.96. The cashier scanned my debit card, bagged my goods, then said "have a good night." After $31.96, you'd think she could be nice and say "I hope you feel better." I mean, the sniffling was apparent.

And okay, maybe $16.99 of my total was for my new pink hair dryer, but still. I bought three different kinds of medicine. Let me get on a tangent for a moment, but then we are going to get back to the pharmacy experience. Tangent: I absolutely hate blow drying my hair. I almost never actually dry my entire head. My arm gets too tired. I have too much hair. When I was in junior high, my friend Melissa and I did a report on sea otters. One astounding fact that I still remember today is that sea otters have one million hairs per square inch. I think my head is like that. I cannot possibly sacrifice the hour that it takes to blow dry all of my hair. Usually I give up after the first eight minutes and say "good enough," even though the under layers are still wet. Off tangent.

While buying my three types of medicine and pink hair dryer, and while observing the actions of the drug store cashier, I decided it would be exceedingly surreal to be a Rite Aid employee for a week. I would love it. I could wear the blue cotton vest and plastic nametag, super matte foundation, pink pearl lipstick, and blue eyeshadow. I could develop people's pictures, restock the Depends, sweep the floor, and scan customer purchases.

Imagine the people that would come in. The white haired granny buying stocking stuffers for her grandchildren, the mortified middle school girl buying tampons, the elementary school kids paying a dollar for a mini bag of hot Cheetos, the overly confident high school male buying his first box of condoms, the 30 year old going through a mid-life crisis and purchasing hair dye, the PTA president secretly buying a 24 ounce bottle of cough syrup even though she's not sick, the college age girl buying a pink hair dryer.

You'd know everything about everybody, but your response to all of them would be the same. Take their money and say "have a nice day."

I would love it, just for a week. As it is, I have to take my NyQuil and go to bed since I have to teach in the morning.