My Apology to Finn from Trader Joe's: Part 1

One of the greatest things about living in the US is a magical place that I like to call Trader Joe’s.

I frequent this grocery store with my roommates very often. When I first moved to Tampa, we went there almost every Tuesday, and it was glorious. They have the best snacks and the freshest fruit – in case you haven’t learned this about me yet, snacks are my highest priority.

For about four months, we went to the same one, and each time, we always ended up with the same cashier named Finn (*name has been very slightly changed). We would chat with him, compliment his hipster style, and thank him for various food recommendations each week. Basically, we were tight.

One day, I ended up at the store on my own, but I still decided to go through Finn’s check out – I felt comfortable there – and mistakenly thought we were friends.

When I got to the register, Finn started scanning my groceries, and then glanced up, looked me right in the eyes, and said,

“So, have you been to this Trader Joe's before?”

Ummm. Excuse me? I’ve been coming here for the last FOUR MONTHS and I go through YOUR check out every effing time!

“…Yes, I’ve been to this Trader Joe’s before.”

He nodded his head and probably assumed that the conversation was over. Now listen, I tried so hard to let it go. I really did.

He has hundreds, if not thousands, of people coming through his register every day. There’s no way he could remember all of us. But…wasn’t I different? I mean, I knew what kind of fish he liked, and I was in the process of buying his favourite chocolate treats. Didn’t that mean anything to him? I thought that our cashier-customer relationship was special.

I scanned the long line of people waiting behind me to see if anyone could help me out. Should I say something? Probably not. Could I let this go? Definitely not.

“Hmmm, Finn.”

Wait a few seconds for the long awkward pause. (No, Andrea, don’t do it!)

“I’ve actually been to this Traders Joe’s many time before…almost every Tuesday for the last four months actually…and you know what? You’ve been my cashier every time.”

Wait a full minute for the longest, awkwardest pause.

“Oh… really?” Uncomfortable chuckle. Not making eye contact.

I checked down the line again to see if anyone would jump in and help me. No one was making eye contact there either. Strange.

“Yes. Maybe you don’t remember me because I usually come with all my roommates. We’re pretty loud.”

I was giving him a way out and he grabbed onto it with both hands.

“Yes! That must be it. I just don’t remember you since you’re not in a crowd.”

Gotcha! That was a trap.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not memorable on my own?”

I looked down the line again to get some moral support from my squad. I was confused when I noticed them backing away and switching lines. Rude. And hurtful. This was obviously the moment when I needed them most.

“No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Finn quickly recovered.

He was trying to backpedal himself out of the conversation, but I was committed. I had come too far to quit.

“Ohhh, ok. Because that’s what it sounded like. And, you know, that’s not very nice.”

It was getting embarrassing but I still couldn’t stop. My squad no longer existed so there was no one left to real me back in.

“No, you’re definitely memorable. And I promise I’ll remember you next time!”

That’s what they all say, Finn.

“Sure. We’ll see.”

At this point, my bags were packed and we stood in silence as I payed the bill. I snatched back my card once the transaction went through, and stomped away, periodically looking over my should at him as I exited the store. So much shade.