End Of The Line

The next time you happen to feel a little down about your job situation, I suggest taking a trip over to your local Whole Foods Natural Market. Not because of the delicious food that all kinda tastes the same. No, the reason you should go to Whole Foods is ‘cause that’s where you’ll encounter the person with the most hilariously horrible job ever. And if Misery loves anything, it’s seeing someone fifty times worse off than you are.

I’m talking about the worker paid to stand at the very end of the super-long Whole Foods express line and hold up a large sign that reads, “END OF EXPRESS LINE STARTS HERE,” with a big ol' silly arrow pointing down at their head.

Now I’m a pretty patient guy, but if I have to wait in a line for longer than five minutes I start freaking out—in that horrible, eye-rolling, gruffly-muttering-to-oneself sort of way. And if people start cutting me? Forget it. The injustice alone makes me quiver with rage.

So imagine having to stand at the very end of a line for the registers, with everyone and anyone cutting in front of you, for hours at a time. And not only that: you have to advertise it to everybody with a huge sign, as if you’re protesting the fact that not enough people realize how painful your job is. Amazing.

Thank you, Whole Foods.