Where's your debit card, lady?

I went to the grocery today...first of all, I miss HEB.
Second of all, I was standing in the so-called "Express Line" at Kroger. The woman in front of me toooookkkkkk thiiiiiisssss looooooonnnnngggg toooooooo do everything.

A)She didn't have a debit card; she was writing a check--who does that anymore? Get a debit card.
2)She wrooooooootttteeee heeeeeerrrrr cheeeeeecccckkkkk lllliiiiiikkkeeee thiiiis. If you can't write (fast), get a debit card.
D)Because she wrote a check, she needed to verify with an ID. She toooookkkkk sooooooo loooonnnngggg to pullllllll ouuuuuuttttt heeeerrrrr ID. Get a debit card.

For the love.

Before all that happened, I had my first freshman orientation experience at work. It was splendid. I actually was able to HELP. I had PURPOSE. I chatted with these poor freshmen.

"What's a credit hour?"
"What's a degree plan?"
"How can I take this? It starts at 8:00."
"If I take this, do I have to take this?"
"Does this count as a Social Science?"
"But I don't want any classes on Friday."
"Crap, can I have another registration sheet? I wrote my first name where I was supposed to write my last name."
"What's my ID number?"

I was called "Ma'am" approximately 80 times today. Oh-my-gosh. I am a Ma'am.

The best part of everyday right now is coming home and setting Wilbert free from his crate. He runs around the apartment so fast and then eventually hits a wall (literally). I laugh everytime. Then he gets really pumped when I pull out his nasty smelling Pedigree. After wolfing it down (as if I don't feed him twice a day), he goes directly to the door and waits for me to collar him and take him out. Then he RUNS like a maniac around the apartment complex. Each walk, at least once, I am asked, "Oh, what is that?" THAT is a dachsund/chihuahua, folks, and he's not a "that"--he's a "him".

Last piece of news...tomorrow, I will begin my first act of Dallas Citizen Patriotism by watching the Dallas Mavericks kick Miami Heat's tail. You should too.