C-Town Cashiers: What's The Deal?

I adore Steve's C-Town.  I really do.  I know I shat on it in this post, but once I realized I was racking up $30 weekly Whole Foods purchases for soy milk, bran flakes, and grapes (corporate America blah blah), I swiftly discovered how great C-Town actually is.  Except one detail.  Their cashiers are the nastiest group of people on the earth.  And these folks agree.

I tried to ignore it.  Tried to kill 'em with kindness.  Tried to put myself in their shoes, and acknowledge how much their jobs suck (I have plenty of respect for grocery store employees; tons of my friends did it growing up, and it was my mom's first job, too).  But nothing's worked.  And last night, after a completely stone-silent transaction wherein the cashier did not acknowledge me for a solid minute while she picked at her nails and gossiped with her friend, I'm over it.

Really, ladies, what's the point?  I'm not exactly looking to be treated like a princess, and I'll cut you slack for having a shitty day now and then; lord knows when I worked retail during college, I'd occasionally take out my narcissistic angst on a poor elementary school teacher just trying to buy an iBook.  Look.  I get it.  But like, Jesus fucking Christ.  EVERY TIME.

Do they just hate me or is this a thing for everyone?