Mr. Jones called and expressed a desire for a simple dinner, steak, vegetable, potato and a bottle of red wine. Very easy, not too much prep for me, the cook, so once I get home from work and putter around a bit changing clothes and answering e-mail I head out to Publix.
I pick up two nice looking rib-eye steaks, a bag of ready to cook washed and trimmed green beans, two nice baking potatoes and some strawberries for dessert (Mr. Jones has a wicked sweet tooth). Over at the wine isle I can’t decide so I end up with a Cline 2002 Syrah and a J. Lohr 2002 Paso Robles Cabernet. I make a mental note that we shouldn’t drink both bottles in one night because we’ll feel like shit tomorrow.
I head up to the registers and start to put my basket down when I remember…we’re almost out of body wash. I step out of line and head back to the soap isle and settle on the Ocean Breeze scented Suave. It’s cheap and doesn’t smell too girly so Mr. Jones won’t mind it.
Back to the register. I’m in the express lane, 10 items or fewer it says (guess they got the memo about ‘or less’ being poor grammar and all that). I lay out my stuff, the nice old gent behind the register asks me how I am, I reply “I’m well thank you and you?” He replies in the affermative and continues to ring up my stuff. I head over to the card reader and swipe my card and enter my PIN. Now I’m just waiting for the cashier to finish ringing my stuff and the bagger to finish bagging. This is where it gets interesting (as if this story wasn’t scintillating thus far)
The bagger is another older gent, white hair and heavy accent that sounds faintly italian. He says that he’s going to put the wine in paper bags for better protection. I agree that’s a good idea…then the bagging begins.
He’s not very fast, nope not very fast at all.
First each bottle goes into its own wine sized paper bag, then each paper bag encased bottle of wine goes into a regular plastic grocery bag the handles of which are tied in a knot.
By the time he finished tying the knot on the second bag I’m finished paying for my groceries and the cashier is already ringing up the guy behind me (who is purchasing lots of cold remedy stuff. I hope he didn’t breathe on me)
The rest of my groceries, steak, beans, potatoes go in a third plastic grocery bag. Everything except the body wash which we all know can never, ever be put in with food lest the soap contaminate the foodstuffs.
Now the bagger (who is cheerfully and lovingly and thoughtfully bagging my items with the utmost care) pulls out the little platform from the end of the check out stand and reaches under for two full sized paper grocery bags. He opens one, then inserts the second into the first. Double bag, the only way to go. Now, the double bagged and tied bottles of wine go into the double paper sack, the plastic bag with the food goes on top of that and the body wash is gently laid on top.
He smiles and asks me if I’d like help out with my one bag. I decline and bid him good evening. As I walk away I realize that the register guy has checked out the guy behind me, bagged his stuff and is almost finished with the next person in line.
Clearly this person shouldn’t be on the express lane where everyone is usually in a hurry but it really makes me appreciate a job well done. He really made sure my wine wouldn’t be harmed on the 2 mile drive home. I found myself imagining that if we were in Mayberry I would have spent those extra minutes chatting with the cashier and the bagger (both of whom I would know by name) and catching up on what’s new with them and their families. The guy behind me would do likewise. Perhaps the cashier would offer some home remedy for his cold.
For an average grocery store experience I have to say I feel very well cared for.
