I took the spirit of the prompt and got what I got, below.
With military-like precision, the collectors stood in row after unwavering row. Patiently (mostly) waiting to pay tribute to the one who could release them from their detainment and send them on their way home. Muzak, tunes from their former days, turned into ceaseless, tuneless monotone jingles playing as the waiting continued. Some of the collectors had brought their young with them. These collectors were perhaps the most miserable of all. Their mission had been punctuated with unnecessary items added to the bounty, some added by subterfuge, some added after protracted bargaining.
That is all I could come up with for today. I am suffering a terrible head cold (yea Spring). I know when I am at the supermarket I always think of places and things I would much rather be...