I was over at Rustbelt Ramblings and came across this great post about supermarkets and the afterlife.
At check-out time in the supermarket I follow these simple rules:
a) Go to the shortest queue.
b) If all queues are lenghty, proceed to the hottest cashier.
c) If accompanied by spouse, proceed to homeliest cashier.
*On gub’ment cheque day, send spouse and take boys to the park instead.
There are no guarantees that checkout time will be chafe-free and expeditious. Almost invariably, the little light blinks on and off as the hot or homely cashier looks around helplessly for the manager, thus prolonging the agony (though the hotness of the cashier slightly diminishes the pain).
When the time comes for the final checkout, (insert funeral dirge here), there are also no guarantees. In this case, I would look for the longest line and, at all costs, avoid the one where the manager is helping the hot cashier with a discrepancy.
In addition to the three rules for checking out of the supermarket, he has the three methods he hopes not to die and some very sound reasoning to back up his motivation. While we will all die and no one has control over how (even suicides fail) it’s good to get your goals in order. As for me, I’m not so sure the “octogenarian” scenario is the best, but hey, to each their own. Remember, ten out of ten people die. Are you ready?