Writing a Classification/Division Essay
20 Model Essay: Classification
DRAFT #1: Those Crazy Shoppers!
Working at a supermarket has given me a chance to observe the different ways human beings behave. I like to think of the shoppers as rats in a lab experiment, and the aisles are a maze designed by a psychologist. Most of the customers follow a dependable route, walking up and down the aisles, checking through my counter, and then escaping through the exit door. But not everybody is so dependable.
The first type of unusual shopper is one that I call the amnesiac. He always seems to be going down the aisles against the normal flow of traffic. He mutters things to himself because he left his shopping list at home. When he finally makes it to my register and starts unloading the cart, he suddenly remembers the one item of food that brought him here in the first place. He then resumes his trip around the store while the customers waiting in line start to grumble impatiently. Inevitably, when it comes time to pay for the goods, the amnesiac discovers that he has left his wallet at home. I don’t say a word. I just void his receipt and tell him to have a nice day.
Senior citizens mean well, I guess, but they can also try my patience. One man stops by several times a week, more to pay a visit than to shop. He wanders around the aisles slowly, pausing now and then to read a box of cereal or squeeze a roll or sniff one of those lemon-scented blobs of room freshener. But he never buys very much. When he finally comes up to the checkout, this type likes to chat with me–about my hair, his bunions, or that pretty tune tinkling out of the ceiling speakers. Although the people waiting behind him in line are usually fuming, I try to be friendly. I really don’t think this man has anywhere else to go.
Even more annoying is someone I call the hot shopper. You can tell that she plans her shopping trip days in advance. She enters the store with a pocketbook on her arm and a calculator in her hip pocket, and she carries a shopping list that makes the Dewey Decimal System look chaotic. Like a soldier marching in a parade, she struts from one sale item to another, carefully organizing things in her basket by size, weight, and shape. Of course, she is the biggest complainer: something she wants always seems to be missing or mispriced or out of stock. Often the manager has to be called in to settle her down and set her back on course. Then, when she reaches my lane, she begins barking orders at me, like “Don’t put the grapes in with the Nutty Ho Hos!” In the meantime, she stares at the prices on the register, just waiting to jump on me for making a mistake. If my total doesn’t match the one on her calculator, she insists on a complete recount. Sometimes I make up the difference myself just to get her out of the store.
These are the three main types of unusual shoppers I have encountered while working as a cashier at the Piggly Wiggly. At least they help to keep things interesting!
Evaluating the Draft
1. Compose a thesis sentence that could be added to improve the introduction.
2. Does the student writer include enough specific details in the body paragraphs to maintain your interest and convey her points clearly?
3. Has the writer provided clear transitions from one paragraph to the next? Suggest one or two ways of improving the coherence of this draft.
4. Suggest how the concluding paragraph might be improved.
5. Offer an overall evaluation of the draft, identifying its strengths and weaknesses.
6. Compare this draft with the revised version, titled “Those Crazy Shoppers.” Identify some of the numerous changes that have been made in the revision, and consider in what particular ways the essay has been improved as a result.
DRAFT #2: Those Crazy Shoppers!
Working part-time as a cashier at the supermarket has given me a great opportunity to observe human behavior. Sometimes I think of the shoppers as white rats in a lab experiment, and the aisles as a maze designed by a psychologist. Most of the rats–customers, I mean–follow a routine pattern, strolling up and down the aisles, checking through my chute, and then escaping through the exit hatch. But not everyone is so dependable. My research has revealed three distinct types of abnormal customer: the amnesiac, the super shopper, and the dawdler.
The amnesiac stops his car in the loading zone, leaves the engine running with the keys locked inside, and tries to enter the store by crashing into the exit door. After dusting himself off and slipping through the entrance, he grabs a cart. “Peaches or potatoes?” he mutters to himself. He has, of course, left his shopping list at home. When he finally makes it to my register and starts unloading the cart, he suddenly remembers the jug of milk or the loaf of bread that brought him here in the first place. He then resumes his race around the store while the customers waiting in line begin to grumble and tap their feet. Inevitably, of course, when it comes time to pay for the goods, the amnesiac discovers that he has left his wallet at home. Without saying a word, I void his receipt and lend him a coat hanger.
The super shopper has been planning her assault for days. She enters the store with a pocketbook on her arm, a coupon purse around her neck, a calculator in her pocket, and in her hand a shopping list that makes the Dewey Decimal System look downright chaotic. With military-like efficiency, she moves from one sale item to another, carefully organizing them in her basket by size, weight, and shape. Then, when she reaches my lane, she begins barking orders: “Double bag the Creamsicles! Twelve-cents off on Jell-O! Don’t put the grapes in with the Nutty Ho Hos!” In the meantime, she glares at the prices blinking on the register, just waiting to pounce on me for making an error. If my total doesn’t match the one on her calculator, she insists on a complete recount. Sometimes I make up the difference myself just to get her out of the store.
The dawdler wanders in as if he had been looking for the library and arrived here by mistake. He tours the aisles slowly, pausing often to read a box of Froot Loops, squeeze a dinner roll, or sniff one of those lemon-scented rubber blobs of room freshener. However, he seldom ends up buying many of the things he picks up. When he finally strolls up to the checkout, the dawdler likes to settle in for a chat–about my hair style, his bunions, or that nice tune tinkling out of the ceiling speakers. Although the people waiting behind him in line are fuming, I try to be friendly, knowing that this must be the major social event of the dawdler’s week.
To be truthful, most of the people who pass through my checkout are quietly efficient and polite–and a little boring. Though the abnormal ones may try my patience, they also help to make a dull job more interesting. So, for your own amusement keep an eye out for these characters the next time you pull into the parking lot of your local supermarket: a fellow trying to unlock his car with a coat hanger, a woman fussing at the bag boy for squashing a grape, and a sweet old man who may try to tell you about the arthritis in his knees or the expiration date on his milk.