Price Check on Register One

Since today was Quint's birthday and no birthday would be complete without some candles atop a piece of manager-comped cheesecake (which was given to Quint when he found a plastic twist-tie in his sandwich at lunch today), I ducked into the Walgreen's to buy some candles.

The Walgreen's had a fair selection of the usual pink and blue stripey deals, but a dusty box of lettered candles was what caught my eye. It contained all the letters necessary to spell "CONGRATULATIONS" but what intrigued me were the N, G, R, and O visible in the window of the box (almost spelling "NEGRO"). A quick survey of the rest of the candle section revealed that there was also a box of candles spelling "CELEBRATE." Not wanting to pay for two boxes of candles just to get the E from the second one, I decided to simply steal an E from the CELEBRATE box. But then, feeling bad about some poor guy decorating his cake with "CELEBRAT," I decided to swap in one of my unneeded letters. I slipped in an A, figuring maybe some fool would spell "CELABRATE" and never know the difference.

I got in the only check-out line, which was manned by the kind of kooky white woman that tends to work the check-out line at a Walgreen's at 9:00 p.m on a weekday. I listened as she informed the couple two spots in front of me that she was very happy to be single and not have any kids to tie her down. Then I looked on in horror as she flirted shamelessly with the greazy man in front of me (who was buying five boxes of Tucks hemorrhoid wipes and insisting he didn't need a shopping bag).

Finally I got to the front of the line. The barcode on the box of candles wouldn't scan. "Price check on register one," Cashier Lady sang over the intercom. A few moments passed. "I think they were $2.99," I offered. A lot of times the cashier will just take your word for the price when the price check doesn't come quickly and there are other people waiting in line. (The candles were actually $3.99, but I figured they were worth $2.99, tops.) Cashier Lady didn't seem down for that idea. "I still need a price check on register one," she repeated with some impatience.

Another minute passed (filled with her mutterings about something or other and my pretend fascination with the latest issue of TV Guide). Finally Cashier Lady threw up her hands in frustration and declared, "Well, if they're not going to give me price checks, I'll just have to start making up prices myself!" She studied the box of candles for a few seconds. "One dollar sounds like a good price to me!" She gleefully rang up the dollar with tax.

Just then the manager came over asking about the price check. Cashier Lady waved him on, saying she'd taken care of it. Maybe it was just the wine I'd had with dinner, but I suddenly found myself struggling hard to keep a straight face.

After I'd gotten home and proudly stuck NEGRO into Quint's cheesecake, I realized that (if one pretends O is the same as Q) I could also spell out QUINT. (That I'm starting to think of my own boyfriend as his blogger name as much as his real name is surely one of the warning signs on someone's "You know you blog too much when..." quiz.)

And so here is my dear Quint's birthday cake. Best $1.07 I ever spent.