she wore a flowing swirley red coat, it was very fancy and so long that it nearly, but not quite, covered the red sweatpants she wore underneath.
i started to load my merchandise onto the belt. more plates for mom, cheese, crackers, reeses peanut butter cups, dayquil, you know the usual. the old woman hobbled over towards me and turned the box of plates.
“those are beautiful,” she said.
“thanks,” i said. “i hope my mom thinks so.”
she walked slowly back to the cashier to watch her bag the pineapple, oranges, and grapefruit, and the old woman started to load up her stuff.
“that’ll be 101.48,” the cashier said.
“ok,” said the old woman. “i’ll come over and sign that thing.” she looked up at me. “i’m sorry. i only have two speeds. slow and slower.”
i laughed. “i’m not in a hurry.”
after a bit, she finally got the grapefruit and her purse arranged to her liking and turned to the cahsier. “thank you so much for all your kind help,” she said. “i hope you have a merry christmas.”
it was cute!
and then when i was leaving, i stopped, because i didn’t really need to drag my cart out with me. as i lifted my bag, and the paper target bag out of the cart, i saw a hand reach around me and lift my plastic bag out of the cart.
“here you go,” said an old man with white hair. “i hope you don’t mind. but i want your cart. it’s all warmed up.”
“no problem,” i said, laughing. “it’s nice and warm.”
“merry christmas,” he said.
That’s funny because today I have had nothing but trouble with old people.
I love old people and that’s the kind of thing that draws me back to the Midwest. I am not impressed with Southern hospitality. Sure people are nice, but it’s like they have no choice. Sorta like a forced smile for a camera: you can just tell…