A Typical Israeli Interaction at the Supermarket

So last week I went to the store to purchase some popcorn seeds to last me until I could go to the shook this week on my day off (chayalim bodedim get one day off a month to take care of their paperwork, home, etc.).

I went to the supermarket (which is about 9,000,000 times more expensive than the shook) and grabbed a thing of popcorn, two small snack bags of chips and went to wait in line. In front of me was a woman clutching a cabbage and five shekels (she clearly purchased a cabbage, for five shekels, the same day of every week for the past hundred years or so) and a gentleman in front of her who was attempting to purchase slippers…incredibly plain, incredibly overpriced slippers from the supermarket. This is what lead to the forty-five minute delay.

First, the slippers had no tag on it. The cashier couldn’t recall the code or the price, the other cashiers couldn’t. A cacophony of “oh no!!!! I can’t remember the code!!!” was sung throughout the store. Cashiers shouted and tried to confer with each other as checking customers out came to a complete halt. What on earth were any of us to do…codes were shouted out, seemingly at random…maybe THIS code is the right code…NOOOOOO the code isn’t working…OH NO!!!! This gentleman needs to buy slippers and he needs them NOW and you better believe we’re all in it together soldier!

Finally, fifteen minutes later one of the codes works — SLIPPERS - 30 SHEKELS. The man is excited, the cashiers are dancing in their seats (our cashiers sit down while they work); the peasants standing on-line rejoice and the man pays and is walking towards the door. Everyone is happy…everyone is happy that is until one of the cashiers who went on a mission to Mordor comes back with the slipper version of the ring, UPC code attached.

The cashier handles the slippers gingerly…and brings them up to the computer and hits “price check” people wait on baited breathe, a pin could be dropped and it would ring out like the Liberty Bell:

SLIPPERS - 50 SHEKELS

A deafening silence could be heard spreading throughout the land…we were about to enter into dark days my friends…very…very dark days. The customer (who has been called back just seconds before he crossed through the store’s threshold) says “fine, here’s twenty shekels” as he begins to hand it towards the cashier, the look in his eyes screaming out that all he wants to do is run.

The cashier immediately realized based on this customer’s accent, that – much like herself – this gentleman is from the former USSR and is now living in a country with an even more defined, even more slow and even more arduous bureaucracy…and therefore he should know better…and he should respect the system dammit…paperwork is sacrosanct.

“I’m sorry sir…I can’t do that” the cashier replies as they begin their switch into a Hebrew-Russian mix of rule-book citing and chest pounding…a mating dance finely developed over years in the desert of the Middle East…only capable of being performed by the most seasoned que standing warriors. “What do you mean you can’t do that” the customer asks…his voice squeaking, ever so slightly, indicating that he really knows the answer and he’s trying to challenge her. The hunt is on…the smell of blood, imminent.

“First, I require your receipt and the slippers. Then I need to scan the receipt back into the computer. Then I need to refund your change. After I refund your change I need to void the sale. After I void the sale I need to ring you up again” she says with the authority of a clerk at the DMV who knows that she has your balls squeezed directly in the palm of her hand. The gentleman acquiesces…he knows he’s been beaten by an expert as she begins the long process of entering all of this back into the computer…nothing is ever as simple as just scanning something…minutes go by, a quarter of an hour.

The peasants begin to make noises…a slow rumble could be heard…the cashier and the gentleman look up at the crowd – sweat dripping off their brows – if they could they’d stand back to back, swords drawn.

This too they also know…the look of a people about to have a violent revolution…the cashier thinks quickly, switching back to Hebrew entirely “you’ll have to go to customer service and then come back and stand on-line after you’re done sir…I’m afraid there’s no other way…” as the treadmills began to whir and people slowly began to have their groceries rung up the fog of tension began to slowly, slowly work itself away…and a revolution was avoided…for now.