My dander was up after my last trip to the supermarket. It had taken a very long time to make my way through the line. The cashier was busy telling each customer that "we are ready to strike".
I had to look up "dander" myself, as it has been a long time since I've been so upset about something so mundane. "Dander" stuck in my mind as appropriate. The first mention of the phrase in question comes in The Republican Banner newspaper, March 1834: "He wound up by bringin' his fist down on the table... and the Gineral's hat on the table bounced up, I tell you; and says he, "there must be a change, Gineral"... but that didn't go good, and that got the Gineral's dander up."
Works for me. So I left for the store about 10:00 AM as the cashier had warned me that they were walking off at noon. I did my shopping. I had a corned beef in the carriage for Saint Patrick's day. I considered two (what if there is a "strike"?), but restrained myself. I then waited my turn in line. Wandering through the market aisles I had worked my "dander" up, rehearsing my speech. My turn came, I passed my discount card to the cashier and started with: "Many years ago, when I was a cashier for this chain..."
Well things went downhill quickly. I had started, what I had intended to be my angry diatribe, with a mention that the supermarket chain, many years ago, had paid for some of my college tuition after my father died. Well the cashier started calling people over and we soon had a mini audience of three cashiers and at least as many grocery "packers" helping to "bag" my little ten item order. I was treated like a hero, an example of the glory days of supermarket employment. I was the cashier that made it good, returning to his old haunts. My formerly angry, agitator cashier told me that things were much different now.
Well I must admit I was pretty flustered. It was like I was a returning war hero. I wanted to rant about politics, but I didn't want to spoil the party. The union person ended the celebration by meekly telling me that there would be a vote on Sunday. She assumed that no matter what was offered, it would be accepted. People couldn't really afford to be without a pay check. I had been lucky, according to her. Cashiers were being replaced by computers. Of the fifteen "registers" almost half were self service (which I hate, they never seem to have been programmed with the sale prices).
I left the store feeling pretty good. I am starting to believe that maybe my life wasn't so bad at all.
May I offer for you reading pleasure: Come men, can't any of you sing?
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