My Friend, the Cash Register

The semester is progressing further and further--farther and farther? Meh. (I'm listening to John Mayer aka I could care less what proper grammar is necessary.) My life consists of the following: music, work, church, work, a tiny bit of homework, and did I mention work? Sounds really tedious right? Right. However, I've found joy and company in my reflection. Why is this? Let me explain:


My best friends are so busy if I ever have that prestigious opportunity to see them, they're sleeping. I've found good conversation a rarity. I mean, I barely have acquaintances, of which I lovingly refer to as "good company." What happened to being cool? Remember when I was younger--as in a few semesters ago--when people would plan their lives around me? This can't be happening to me of all people. It's all about me and I'm way too much of an extrovert to be alone for an extended period of time (usually about two days). The thought of trying to become an introvert makes me feel queasy. 


Immature? I gently refer to the name of these symptoms as Loser-a-phobia. So what do I do to compensate? I talk to myself--everywhere. No, I'm not really that psycho. However, today I found myself with a lot of spare time and two things happened to me that I'd like to share with my cyber-based messaging system full of hypothetical enthusiasts: 


1. I went to the efficient self-check out stand at our homely local grocer. As the cashier watched my transaction, without my knowledge, I listened to the instructions of the personified computer system. 
         "Welcome! Please enter cash or select payment type."
I was thrilled! Someone was talking to me. And not only this, she had such a friendly voice. Quickly looking around before I answered, I simultaneously reached into my hippy bag for my wallet. As I was completed the transaction I answered her. 

       "Okay I only have a few quick questions. Answer them 

         and I'll flip my plastic for you:

         1. Will my husband be able to handle my extremities? 

         2. Do I have friends?

         3. If the answer is no to the prior questions, who's the fairest

             maiden in all of Rexburg?" 

Her response?

  "Item has been removed from bagging area. Please ask an associate for assistance."

I muttered under my breath several expletives as the cashier walked over cautiously. 
      "Do you need help, ma'am?"

      "More than you know..." I muttered. 

After questioning my response to no avail, she swiped her card and I began the process all over again. And to think the only thing I wanted from this stupid machine was a little advice! Defeated, I walked out with my eyes sweeping the walkway in front of me. The sunshine hit my face. 'I'm losing my mind,' I chuckled. 


2. I got into my car. 'Oh, car. How I loveth thee. Will you be my friend?' 

No response. 

Turns out inanimate objects tend to have a better understanding of my sense of humor than people do. 


I laughed at the awkwardness of my logic and drove away drinking my diet coke.