The curse of the checkout lane

The curse of the checkout lane...
while most people try to live their life "right" because they want to go to heaven, and/or because that is how they were raised...me, I’ve realized that I have atonement to make in this life, but I’m not sure how to make things right. Perhaps you can help me after you've read my story...
My epiphany came today, while at the grocery store. As usual, I approached the checkout lanes with only a couple items in my carry basket. Only two lanes were open, and neither looked to be the quicker way out, so I opted for the express lane and resigned myself to spending the next several minutes in line. But just as I took my place in line, I saw one of the store employees approach the lady two places ahead of me in line and prompt her to move to the empty checkout lane next to where we were, as she was going to open up. Nice! I’m not usually that lucky at the grocery store...
My "luck" is a strange thing...perhaps I don't exercise it enough for it to it to work like it should, but when it does I can't complain. I haven't won the lotto (hell I never even get 1 number out of 6), but I always end up with rock-star parking (almost as valuable as a winning lotto ticket in Chicago), and I manage to break even when I go to Vegas, so I’m basically content...however...
As we moved to the empty checkout counter I started thinking what I’d do with these extra minutes that I had been unexpectedly granted. I’m used to going to the store and spending hours in line, no matter how few other shoppers are around or how few items I purchase. Impatient by nature, even a trip to Walgreens turns into my own personal hell. It’s to the point now where I discourage people from getting in line behind me, but people don't seem to believe me until they spend a few minutes gnashing their teeth with me.
Today proved to be no different. The cashier swiped her items and the conveyer moved forward, allowing me to put both my items behind the separator, which is when I saw it. At first, I didn't know what it was. A large coupon? It certainly wasn't money, because there wasn't a picture of an old white guy on it. I searched my memory and...A check? Along with that realization came memories of countless hours spent in lines behind that lady (it always seems like the same lady) with the fat checkbook and no pen...
Then it dawned on me...why my hell continued to revisit me on earth, most specifically, in the checkout lane. One day, a day I can't even remember, while waiting in one of the lines I’m so used to now, I asked for some help. Not from god (he's busy making tsunamis), or the devil (he's in a bunker under 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.), but from anyone or anything that was listening. "If I can get out of here in less than 10 minutes, I don't care how long I have to stay the next time!"
That day, expiditimus, the god of impatience, heard my plea and, thus, my curse was born.
so now, I stand next to atlas, Sisyphus and Heracles, burdened with never-ending tasks (yeah...Heracles was done after the 12th labor but have you ever tried to scrape Augean cow shit off your shoes? talk about the gift that keeps on giving...), and like them...I have no means of atonement...I’m doomed to spend eternity in line at grocery stores, banks, gas stations, convenience stores, Starbuck's, burger kings (I REFUSE to stand in line at McDonald’s) and anywhere else...traffic seems to find me now, even in the middle of the day and late at night when the streets should be empty...
What can I do to make things right???
Epilogue: in case you thought I made this shit up...
I started this blog a few days ago, but got busy with some other things and couldn't finish it right away. I saved it with the intention of finishing the story with that day's events and calling it quits, despite the disbelief that I knew would surface...
Well...today I went to the store, not thinking about my curse but trying to avoid the 1st/3rd/15th/weekend/end-of-month crowds...Tuesdays and Thursdays seem to work out in the grocery store. Same story...all is going well, then..."price check!" (Check is my least favorite word in the English language). I actually felt bad for the brotha in front of me who was trying to purchase the offending item...he apologized profusely until I told him, "if it wasn't a price check, it would have been a check...if it wasn't a check, the register would have exploded...it's not you, it's me." He seemed not to understand for a second, then sadness came over his face...he had seen my fate, and had found pity...