Checking out
I was at my local grocery checkout line, the one I’d changed 2 or 3 times, trying to anticipate the check-out time based on cart size, age of those line up, types of grocery, all those variables a bettor ranks the way a gambler at the horse track factors in jockey vs. distance run vs. history of the filly vs. age vs. condition of the track, all those reasons I don’t play the ponies. I picked the line with the least items, ignoring the age factor. It looked like a winner judging by the guy in the line I just vacated who was hustling the woman in the line even further over and who, I figured, wouldn’t be ready with check or credit card, probably fumble around for it at the end, maybe wouldn’t have either one and would miserably fail the question paper or plastic.
The woman half checked out in my line only had a few items, but then, after I’d committed, she hauled out some coupon for double ‘points’. What the hell ‘points’ got her, I sure didn’t know, but by god they wanted them. The cashier shook her head, made a phone call, asked her customer some further questions, made another phone call. “OH!” she said to the unseen supervisor on the phone. “Those are only double on Thursdays, Fridays and the 32nd of June.” Mystery finally solved, we checked her out and moved on to the couple between me and my escape into the sunshine. I knew I was in trouble when the lady kept hitting numbers on the swipe machine. “Hon,” the cashier said finally, about the fifth time she’s goofed the transaction, “what’re you trying to do?” Hon said, “I’m 92 and my husband is 94. This machine is different where we come from.”
She came from, obviously, the 19th Century. When she dropped her credit card, I shot down to pick it up. I’m no spring chicken myself, but hey, she’s 92! I didn’t want to call 9-1-1 and anyway, she and I didn’t carry a cellphone to make that call.
“My dad turned 92 this year,” I told her. “You’re doing way better than him.” Half the time I expect we’ll have the security guard escort us out the way he handles the grocery card then the credit card then gets them mixed up.
It took me an extra day to get out of that store, but all I could think was I hope I’m as spry as these two nonagenarians at their age. Hell, I just hope I REACH their age. Although, when I piled into my truck out in the parking lot, I spent a few extra minutes making sure Ma and Pa had left the area. No point meeting up again fender to fender….