Andy Young: The simple pleasure of interacting

By Andy Young

About a week ago I stopped for groceries on the way home from work. I needed bananas, oranges, fresh spinach, brown sugar, and milk.

It didn’t take long to find everything on my list. I also picked up some blueberries because they were on sale; two boxes of store-brand Rice Chex, because I remembered I was running short of cereal; and a box of generic wheat crackers, because I went shopping when I was hungry, which I recalled too late was the first thing the professor for the “Personal and Family Financial Management” course I took in college told us never to do.

When I went to pay there was only one checkout line open, so I dutifully lugged my nine items to a spot behind a person leaning on a cart that was overflowing with groceries. She was behind an individual who was buying a bottle of wine, who was behind the first person in line. His numerous purchases were being scanned by an adolescent cashier, who then sent them down a belt to a second teenaged employee, who carefully placed each item in one of the customer’s cloth shopping bags.

It looked like I’d be waiting a while, but then, for no apparent reason, the tiny, older woman in front of me asked if I’d like to go ahead of her in line. I told her that wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. “No, really. I’ve got all this stuff, and you’ve only got a few items,” she said. “You go first.”

So I did, and got checked out in a flash, since both the cashier and the equally youthful bagger perhaps inspired by my new friend’s courtesy, were exceptionally efficient, friendly and accommodating.

That woman’s random act of kindness probably allowed me to get home three or four minutes earlier than would have been the case had we each maintained our respective places in line. But the generosity of spirit she showed with her tiny bit of thoughtful unselfishness has paid off in far greater ways than just that.

A few days later I made another post-work trip to the grocery store, got my 10 or so items, staked out my spot in the checkout line, and prepared to wait my turn. A moment later a young man who was probably less than a third of my chronological age got in line behind me, clutching a lone can of soda. I invited him to go ahead of me. The genuine appreciation he expressed made my already pretty good day into a great one. He enthusiastically pledged he was going to let a whole lot of people in front of him the next time he had a cartful of groceries, and I don’t doubt for a second that he has.

So why, a cynic might ask, didn’t I just get into one of the four self-checkout lines that the local grocery store has installed in order to save time?

I suppose I could claim it’s for the same reason I always walk into my local credit union and stand in line to cash my check, rather than use the automated drive-up teller outside: so I can interact with someone who is as happy to serve a cheerful person as they are grateful to have a job that feeds and clothes them and their family.

But the real reason I choose to deal with actual people rather than soulless, computer-powered machinery is a selfish one. I truly enjoy direct communication with other human beings and choose to believe they appreciate being cheerfully interacted with at least as much as I do. <