If you've not read Mason-Dixon shopping, then you should stop right now and read it first.
Several months ago, Ariel and I were shopping at Sam's Club. As we approached the checkout, the female cashier snarled at the the woman in line ahead of us. "Don't stand up near the register. Move back." Ariel and I exchanged mortified glances. Where was the polite, "How y'all doin'?" Then, when the shopper tried to load her groceries back into cart in a way that kept her bread from being smashed by the milk, the cashier snapped, "Don't touch the groceries--I load the cart."
At this point, I got the giggles--this was too pathetic. I kept my eyes focused on the floor when it was our turn and the cashier said, "Push your cart foward and around, you will place it between you and extra cart, which I will be loading. And stand one step back from the register." By now, I was nearly in stitches. And it didn't help that I and the lady behind me kept exchanging sarcastic whispers like "Whoa, bad case of PMS." And "Someone needs to buy that lady some Midol."
Finally, we were finished. I couldn't hold back the laughter anymore especially when the cashier found out that the lady behind us in line didn't have a cart and her whole system was blown to smitherines, and especially when the lady behind had said she was going to tell the cashier, "Um, yeah, I had a cart, but then thought I didn't need it. But now, I realize these groceries are too heavy--can I have your extra cart?"
On our way out to the car, Ariel commented, "Someone should talk to the manager. You can't get away with the kind of behavior here. Maybe in New England, but this is the South! You have to be nice."