I had a lovely weekend in Atlanta. Thanks for asking.
Now that I'm back, I'm going to start with, did you guess rant?
I didn't notice this myself. Momma has a lap full of receipts from our trip. She's going through and separating the credit card purchases from those made with real money and the debit card. We ate better than we should have and likely tipped better than tray-in-the-face-girl deserved. She was kinda cute though in a nerdy-glasses-girl kind of way, though she's certainly no Momma.
Perhaps you are familiar with Walgreens, popular drug/convenience store. I am of course as I often drive past them, though I don't generally need their services. I buy my smokes at the grocery store while buying my regular groceries. There's a special feeling I get (used to get) when I purchase diapers, beer and cigarettes, but that's not the point. I needed cigarettes, and they were convenient.
At the top of the receipt from Walgreens is the following statement: Hello, my name is "cashier/worker drone's name." Thank you for allowing me to serve you today.
First, I'll give you Momma's answer which is, "How demeaning."
I have to agree. That's one of those problems-with-America kinds of things. I didn't allow worker drone to serve me. She was there, and I needed a pack of smokes. Her job is not to serve me or even to be allowed to serve me. Her job is to sell me products that I would like to purchase. I didn't let her do her job. She needs income and helping Walgreens sell products is how she earns that income. I'm happier when they're polite about, but in the end, as long as I get the smokes and get the fuck out, I really don't give two inches worth of shit.
How demeaning indeed, as if her life begins and ends with the customer. Fuck that!