What are you looking at?

What is it about the checkout line in Wal-mart (or any store for that matter) that prompts people to look at your cart of goodies? The marketing department of said company does a fine job of filling every available space with trash magazines, sugar filled snacks, and every single doodad that you can imagine might need to grace the inside of your purse in the event that you need to MacGyver your way out of a situation. Now I know the purpose of this ploy is to get you to part ways with your hard earned cash, but I also feel that they are there to entertain you while you wait. Why then, do people feel compelled to check out what you are checking out with? I just don't get it. Why is it, when I'm waiting in line and I just happen to have a new toilet seat in my cart, you immediately then glance at the box of Fiber One bars that I decided to try out? Are you trying to tell me with your eyes that I have a bathroom issue? I can't help it that my toilet seat needs replacing at the exact time that the advertisements for Fiber One have convinced me that I need a healthy morning snack. Stop judging me, woman! Then don't actually look me in the eye and look back down at the 3 2-liter bottles of Coke that are in my cart. Woman, I know you are thinking "She wouldn't need Fiber One bars if she stopped drinking all that Coke..." and I can't help it that I happen to be supplying the drinks for a 5th grade 2nd quarter TA party two days from now. I mean, it's not like I was going out to the parking lot and slamming down the 2-liters, just waiting to get my fix. It's bad enough to be a public school teacher and have to buy feminine products, and the proceed to meet the entire middle school student population in every aisle you go down. I don't need some random person judging my purchases in the checkout line. Besides, I'm not judging you while I waited as you handed the checker no less than 10 coupons for the 3 items you purchased, and then continued to wait while you wrote out a check (they still make those??), and then was asked to sign the debit/credit machine but had to look at it first like it was some kind of alien life force that was bent on sucking out your soul if you picked up the pen. Then again, maybe I am....