I Hate Hannaford Supermarket
That’s a pretty strong statement, I know. But I think it’s justified. Let me set it up for you.
My wife and I are in Vermont to attend the wedding of some friends from graduate school. We’re staying with a couple of other friends from graduate school at a ski resort (off-season, obviously) near the wedding site.
After the reception on Saturday, we decided that an evening of psych on DVD plus a little alcohol would be a good way to relax for the evening. In order to facilitate that, we needed to acquire said alcohol before getting back to the room. Enter Hannaford Supermarket.
We picked up a couple of summer variety packs of beer, which was fine, and headed to the checkout. They asked to see ID from the two of us at checkout. Not a problem – provided.
But wait! I just applied for a VA license, so my MN license has a big hole in it (since that’s what they do in VA when you apply for a new license). Fortunate then that I had my quite legal VA-issued temporary ID papers too, right?
Apparently not. First, the cashier said she couldn’t take it. Fine – cashiers have no power to think on their own, so we asked for the manager-on-duty (MOD). But then, neither could the MOD take it. Why? Because it wasn’t an unexpired state-issued ID.
Except, of course – it was. If I can rent a car with it, I should be able to buy alcohol with it. Perhaps if it was from the great state of Vermont it wouldn’t have been a problem. Apparently if it isn’t made of plastic, it can’t possibly be real. In hindsight, we realized that the MOD was essentially saying I had forged identity documents, which I’m pretty sure is a felony.
But fine – whatever. We can work within the (nonsensical) system. I’ll just walk outside so that the other three of us, with our non-temporary IDs, can purchase it. Ahh, not so fast! We now apparently meet the manager’s understanding of the legal definition of a “group,” and any leaving or returning means that the “group” has returned, requiring all necessary IDs upon return. Imagine that.
For how long, I inquire? Is this a 24-hour group ban of purchasing, perhaps for the evening, perhaps for some other unspecified time period? Ahh, but the MOD is unsure, only knowing that tonight is definitely included in the definition. Fantastic.
The MOD’s suggestion? There are several convenience stores in the area – just go to one of those!
And if that’s not upholding the letter of the law, I don’t know what is.
What a jerk! Clearly, dude’s just invested in keeping his own job, rather than legitimately caring about underage drinking.
In State College, we have this bad Mexican/good margarita joint that — get this — takes your _picture_ when you come in, and associates that picture with the digital swipe from your license. Why? If you misbehave or somehow look to be magically underage at some late date, or if you even get a significantly radical haircut, they can deny you entrance any time in the future. It’s creepy.
My old roommate can tell lots of stories about the liquor store we routinely went to here in PA (and whose workers eventually figured out who we were, given that we came on the same day of the week at the same time of day each visit) would hassle her. Whenever a pretty girl, such as my roommate, would come down the register, a particularly unfortunate-looking female cashier would *always* ID this person and then make any excuse possible to cast doubt on the legitimacy of the ID — embarrassing the heck out of my roommate and making everyone in the store look at her like a criminal. Yet if a less attractive woman came down the line who looked around the same age, this customer would never be hassled. We saw it week after week.
There was also a brief shining moment of awesomeness that almost (at least, in my head) occurred:
As we exited the store after our confrontation with the Majorly Offensive D-bag (MOD), the good sir Richard stops in front of the Coke display right by the exit and looks back towards the checkout stand suspiciously. I was convinced he was going to steal one of the two liter bottles and make a run for it. Which would have been awesome since 1) it would have been a fantastic “F- You” to the MOD and the D-bag-ettes who checked us out, and 2) it would have made me feel a lot better.
But no. Richard “didn’t think of it,” despite the fact that he rented a car with what we later learned was an ILLEGAL FORM OF ID.
I swear, if I ever meet someone named “Hannah Ford” or any similar spelling, I’m going to punch her (him?) in the face.