Something happened to me today. Something horrible. Something shocking. Something I didn’t expect and wasn’t prepared for. I mean, I guess I knew it would happen one day, just not today.
I was in my neighborhood supermarket where I go most nights after work to pick up whatever last minute things I might need for dinner. I didn’t have that much in my cart but the express aisle, with my regular cashier Shirley at the register, was packed so I just picked another checkout lane where the line didn’t look too long.
I didn’t know that such an innocent choice could lead to such dire consequences.
Of course, as usual, I would’ve been better off staying in the express line as easily five people must have come and gone over there while I waited behind one woman with about 82 coupons, each of which she wanted to double-check with the cashier. Then she couldn’t work the credit card swipe machine and to top it off, she had to run out and grab the environmentally friendly reusable shopping bags that she had left in her car. (I’m all for saving the environment but this was getting ridiculous.)
I finally reached the cashier, a friendly guy who I’d never seen before. He rang up my thin pizza crust, 2% milk, rotisserie chicken (to mix with my dogs’ dry food) and low-fat cheese. I was making a white herb chicken pizza from Cooking Light for dinner.
And then it happened.
The cashier, who I had thought was so nice and friendly just a moment before, looked me straight in the eye and said with a smile:
“I’m going to give you the 5% discount.”
“What discount?” I asked innocently enough.
And then came his reply, one that I will never forget:
“On Tuesdays, if you spend more than $30 and you’re over 55, you get the 5% senior’s discount.”
Time stopped as my brain scrambled helplessly trying to process these unfamiliar words: “over 55, senior discount.” He had to be kidding. Surely he couldn’t be talking to me. I was just 42 yesterday, wasn’t I?
The woman behind me, from the looks of her (and her cart,) an experienced veteran of discount Tuesdays, nodded and said,
“You gotta take the bad with the good, right?”
And everyone laughed. But wait a minute, what was so darn funny?
I thought for a moment of getting all self-righteous and indignant, of saying to the cashier, ‘how dare he look me over in my stretch pants and new J Jill tunic, and judge me a senior? I mean what gave him the right?’
I thought of making a scene, of calling the manager over and demanding that this smug age-assuming register rider be shown the door. I was a valued customer after all. I always had my Rewards card ready and I never held up the line.
But it was late, there were lots of people behind me and my feet hurt so I just nodded to him, curtly I hoped, picked up my bags and headed for my car.
But after I piled my purchases into the trunk, after I had given my reflection a good hard look in the rearview mirror deciding it was time to use Preparation H on those damn bags under my eyes and as I began to navigate the crowded grocery store parking lot, I couldn’t help but smile. After all I had gotten a 5% discount on my groceries, hadn’t I? And for the record?
I’m only 54.