The Cashier Scans The Items, But Doesn’t Scan The Room

(I’m sixteen and in my junior year in high school, and I’ve been with my boyfriend for nearly two years at this time. After missing a birth control pill earlier in the month and using condoms in the meantime, my period still comes late. Panicked, embarrassed, and fearing the worst, I stop by a big chain grocery store fairly late at night for a pregnancy test. The “adult” items are all kept behind the customer service desk, so I quietly ask for assistance, hoping I can pay at this register to avoid the judgment of other guests. I’m instead directed to the only open — and surprisingly busy — cashier, with my little box that might as well say, “PREGNANT TEENAGER!” in big, bold letters. Two more shoppers line up behind me; mortified, I keep the box in my hand and place a lane divider down for the next guest. The shopper ahead of me finishes, and without saying a word, the cashier — a grumpy-looking, middle-aged woman — reaches for the next items on the belt as I’m handing her the box.)

Me: *sheepishly* “Oh, those aren’t mine…”

Cashier: *looking up for the first time and practically shouts* “Well, what are you buying, nothing?!”

(Before I can respond, she sees the box and grabs it from my hand.)

Cashier: *condescendingly, with a big sigh* “You have to put your items on the belt, or else how am I supposed to know what’s yours?!”

(Painfully aware of everyone’s stares, I mutter a quiet:)

Me: “Sorry…”

(She scans the box and tosses it to the bagger, a young man no older than me, who bags it silently. As I finish paying, he hands me the bag with an apologetic smile, and — to my absolute horror — loudly says:)

Cashier: “Good luck! I hope you get the answer you’re hoping for!”

(I practically ran to my car, wondering if giving up sex for the rest of my life would be easier than ever doing that again. In retrospect, I realize I made it harder for myself by being SO embarrassed, but who wouldn’t be at that age? Hey, at least I wasn’t pregnant!)