Every time the cashier counts their groceries, Jason’s phone rings just at that moment. ‘Oh, baby, I gotta take this!’ And poof – he walks away, leaving Lauren to pay. But not this time. She has a plan that will make Jason wish he hadn’t used his card.
My husband, Jason, is hardworking, funny, and remembers our anniversary without phone reminders. But he has one habit that drives me crazy.
Every time we go grocery shopping together, my husband Jason suddenly gets a ‘very important work call’ as soon as we get to the checkout line. It’s like clockwork. It’s almost impressive how consistently it happens.
‘Oh, baby, I have to take this,’ he says, leaving me alone with a full cart and an impressive amount of money.
The first few times, I hardly noticed. Marriage is all about pros and cons, right?
But after the tenth call in a row, perfectly timed to coincide with leaving the shop, I started to notice a pattern.
‘Who was that?’ I asked one day when he reappeared just as I was pushing our trolley to the car.
‘Oh, just on business,’ he replied vaguely. “Thanks for taking care of the cash register. I’ll take care of it next time.”
Spoiler: he didn’t make it next time.
Last Saturday was the last straw.
We needed to stock up on just about everything: cleaning supplies, food for the week, the fancy coffee he insisted on.
As we approached the checkout counter, I started mentally counting down the time. Three…two…one….
RING. RING.
Jason’s hand darted to his pocket so fast you’d think someone had electrocuted him.
‘Jason…’ I started, but he spoke right through me.
‘Oh, babe, I have to take this – it’s work.’
I watched him walk towards the front of the shop, nodding as he did so, as if he was having some important business negotiation. Meanwhile, I started unloading our mountain of groceries onto the tape.
The cashier, an older woman with kind eyes, shifted her gaze from me to Jason and looked at me-you know, that ‘girl, I see what he’s doing’ look.
Was it really that obvious? Had she really been watching this pathetic routine week after week?
My face burned with embarrassment, but it was quickly replaced by outrage when I saw the $347.92 amount.
The cashier smiled sympathetically as she handed me the cheque.
That night I couldn’t sleep.
The more I thought about Jason’s behaviour, the more my irritation turned to determination. Jason snored peacefully beside me, completely unaware of the gears turning in my head.
So, I came up with a brilliant plan to put an end to this once and for all.
The night before our next shopping trip, when Jason was sound asleep, I picked up his phone.
I didn’t want to peek. We trust each other, despite his shenanigans at the till. No, I had another job to do.
I went into his contacts and found my name.
With a few taps, I changed it to ‘Bank Fraud Squad.’
Then I put his phone back where it was. I climbed back into bed with a smile on my lips.
The trap had been set and Jason would soon learn a lesson he would never forget!
The next morning we went about our usual business; Saturday morning, breakfast, then preparing for our weekly grocery shopping trip.
We walked through the shop picking out the essentials and some nice little things like snacks, ice cream, and wholemeal pasta.
The trolley filled up quickly and soon we were on our way to the checkout.
‘Do we really need three different kinds of crisps?’ I asked, trying to act normal while my heart raced with anticipation.
‘Absolutely,’ Jason replied seriously. “They all serve different purposes. These ones are for movie night, these ones are for sandwiches for dinner, and these ones are for when I get hungry at midnight.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t keep from smiling. That’s why I loved him, despite his annoying tricks at the checkout.
‘Whatever you say, chip expert.’
We approached the checkout counter, and I waited until Jason’s hand reached for the phone in his pocket.
It was time to set the trap. I carelessly pressed a button on my smartwatch and immediately….:
RING. RING.
Jason’s eyes lit up with familiar relief at the sound of the ringtone. He instantly pulled out his phone and stepped out of the queue.
‘Oh, babe, just one second, I need to-’ but he interrupted, glancing at the caller ID for ‘Bank Fraud Unit.’
I watched all the colour disappear from his face. His eyes widened in panic.
‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’ I asked innocently. ‘It seems important.’
He hesitated, shifting his gaze from the phone to me and to the queue at the till behind us. Now everyone was looking at him.
‘Lauren, this is-’ he picked up the phone, his hand trembling as he showed me the screen.
‘Just answer it,’ I said, leaning over to press the button on his phone to accept the incoming call.
Earlier that morning, I’d recorded a message and installed an app on my phone that was supposed to call Jason when I pressed a certain button on my smartwatch.
I had foreseen everything except how much I would regret not recording his facial expression when my pre-recorded message rang out from his phone.
“Hi, Jason. We’ve detected some suspicious behaviour on your account. Specifically, you’re pretending to get a phone call every time it’s your turn to pay at the till.”
Jason’s jaw dropped and his face turned exactly the same shade as the tomatoes in our cart.
The cashier coughed awkwardly.
The couple behind us started giggling.
I crossed my arms, savouring every second of his discomfort.
‘That was an important call, perhaps the most important call of all,’ I observed.
This time the cashier didn’t manage to disguise her laughter with a cough.
Jason couldn’t meet my gaze. ‘Let’s just…finish checking out.’
And for the first time in months, Jason pulled out his wallet and paid for our groceries. $389.76. I couldn’t help but notice the cashier (the same one from before) subtly pat me on the shoulder.
‘Do you need help with the bags, sir?’ – She asked Jason, a fake sweetness in her voice.
‘No, I’ll do it myself,’ he mumbled, grabbing as many bags as he could carry.
The car ride home passed in awkward silence. Jason gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. I stared out the window, trying not to laugh.
Finally, when we pulled into our driveway, he spoke. ‘That was low, Lauren.’
I turned to him, all sugary sweetness. “О? You mean it’s lower than disappearing every time it’s your turn to pay?”
Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again.
What could he say? He’d been caught red-handed.
‘How long have you been planning this?’ – He asked finally, as we unloaded the groceries.
‘Not as long as you’ve been planning your convenient phone calls,’ I replied.
‘I don’t plan them,’ he protested weakly. ‘They just…happen.’
I raised an eyebrow. “Every time? At the checkout? Like clockwork?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘Okay, maybe I’m avoiding it a little.’
‘A little?’ I laughed. ‘Jason, you’ve turned avoiding the grocery bill into an Olympic sport.’
Jason had the grace to look ashamed.
“I didn’t think of it that way. I just…I don’t know, Lauren. It was stupid.”
‘Yeah, it was,’ I agreed, but softened when I saw his genuine remorse. ‘But also pretty smart, I have to admit.’
‘Not as clever as your stunt with the bank fraud department,’ he said, pulling out a gallon of milk. “That was just diabolical. How did you even come up with that?”
‘I couldn’t stand it any longer when the tellers looked at me with sympathy, like you were some kind of leech that tricked me into paying your bills.’
Jason wrinkled his nose. ‘You mean the whole shop knows?’
“We’ve been buying from the same shop for how many years now? And you’ve been pulling this stunt for months… Of course they noticed, Jason.” I put the bananas on the kitchen table. ‘It’s not like you’ve been doing it subtly.’
“Well, okay. You got me. No more fake calls.” He raised his hands in a sign of surrender. ‘But I have to say, you changing your contact name to “Bank Fraud Squad” was pretty brilliant.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, bowing sharply. ‘I learnt from a better fraudster.’
We laughed as we finished stacking the groceries together. For a moment I felt like we were a team again.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said suddenly more seriously. “It was really stupid. I don’t even know why I kept doing it.”
I shrugged. “We all have our weird quirks. Just maybe next time pick one that doesn’t leave your wife holding the bag. Literally.”
And guess what? From that day on, Jason’s magical disappearance disappeared completely.
In fact, he insists on paying every time we go shopping. Sometimes he even pulls out his phone and puts it on the counter as we leave the shop, as if to prove a point.
But I keep my smartwatch charged. Just in case.
