Friday Fail: Supermarket Edition

We've been doing so well adjusting to our new "home."  But just when you think you've mastered a simple task such as going to your Dutch grocery store; life comes and bites you in the ezel.

An Ezel

It was a routine shopping trip for tonight's dinner menu, lemon chicken. I  breezed up the produce aisle snagging the last head of broccoli; there was a guy next to me that had his eye on it too, but I was the victor!  As a reward I decided to pick up a La Trappe Tripel, one of my favorite Trappists and brewed in the Netherlands.  Fighting temptation to buy a few more brews, I moved on to the cheese counter, to snap two free samples of Jong Belegen (young belgian) [EDITOR'S NOTE: It was politely pointed out to me I miss translated "Belegen;" it's not "Belgian." See the comment below for correct translation].  Then a quick turn down the wine aisle. There I had to leap over a women's cart who was blocking the entire shelf of Albert Heijn (AH) box wine.  That was it, I was done; off to checkout.

Friday, at 5:30pm usually finds the AH busy with shoppers, and tonight was no exception.   But for some reason I found myself slipping right into the "Pin Only;" no cash, lane with no line.  Could this really be happening?  Placing my items on the belt with a sense of confidence I then handed in my AH bonus card.  Then it hit me.  I FORGOT MY PIN CARD.  I was trapped; another shopper began to place their items on the belt.  Now what?  The sweat began to build on my forehead.  I then tried to explain in broken English how I forgot my pin and started collecting my items. This brought great amusement to the checker.  So I figured no worries I'd jump in the cash lane; only one problem, NO EUROS either.  BLAST!

So again in broken English, I ask the same checker if it was ok to leave my basket and return with my card.  Smiling, since she witnessed my entire conversion from confidence to cowardice she agreed. I then sleeked out of the store, pulled my Philles hat down, and started a light jog back to the apartment. Lucky, I was sporting my Adidas track suit, so it added to my quickness.

Upon my return, the check out girl was ready for me, I think she was "impressed with my speed." Too embarrassed to look her in the eye and out of breath I tried to say "dank u wel" or "thank you" but the words came out jumbled, I have no idea what I said.

Defeated, I began to walk out with my purchases but not without first giving a friendly wave to my friend the Afghani Olive Salesmen. He was with customers so I didn't interrupt him.  Besides, I just wanted to get back and forget about this trip.

On the bright side, I'm guessing the jog back and forth worked off those free samples of cheese.