Oh fuck. We’ve really messed up here. We could have just walked in, grabbed the speculoos beer, and walked out. But no, we had to ask that Trader Joe’s employee what his box cutter was for.
Why is he ringing the bell five times? There’s no way this is going to end well.
Couldn’t we have just kept our mouth shut? Well, this probably isn’t the first time that the cashier misinterpreted a customer’s friendliness as an open door to keep them hostage at the register, and we sure as hell won’t be the last.
Oh, great. Now we’re gonna be late to our dinner reservation. Let’s make a serious promise to never again engage with a Trader Joe’s employee.
Does he actually think we’re listening to this shit? We’re not sure how much longer we can keep nodding without processing a single word he’s saying.
There’s a huge line accumulating, and those shoppers look angry. Does he even notice? Maybe we should report this guy to the manager.
He isn’t even talking about the goddamn box cutter anymore. At least it was marginally better when he was still going on about the box cutter — please, we don’t care about how each Trader Joe’s across the country is decorated. Spare us.
If he drones on for any longer, our seven bags of Cauliflower Gnocchi are gonna defrost before we even get in the car!