Thursday, May 23, 2013

Remembering What's Important

There’s a relatively new supermarket near my home I’ve been shopping at since it opened. It’s got a great produce department, a well-stocked deli, a fresh fish counter and a nice selection of meat. Unfortunately, the one thing it lacks is the most conscientious cashiers. They’re kids, mostly, so I try to give them a break, but I’ve already had a few experiences when coupons haven’t been applied and I’ve had to go back with the receipt for credit. It's annoying. 

The store manager and I have already become fast friends, and it’s almost a running joke at this point, although I’m sure he doesn’t actually think it’s funny when he sees me, and I am not amused that it keeps happening.

Like yesterday.

I had two manufacturers’ coupons, each for a dollar, and I handed them to the cashier before he began ringing up my items. I then went to the end of the belt and began bagging. Quickly enough, he gave me the total, and as soon as I swiped my credit card, announced he’d forgotten the coupons. Aargh. Again?? At least this time, I was still in the store.

I headed over to the “Courtesy Counter” where I found … no one.  My mild irritation began to morph beyond aggravation and veer toward exasperation. I walked back to the cashier and asked how to get someone to help me. A search ensued, several minutes passed, and finally, a young man appeared to process the transaction. Did I want the credit on the card I’d used or would cash be okay? Cash, please. Much quicker, and this has taken FAR too long already.

Now, before you think I am making way too much of this, you have to understand this is at least the fourth time I’ve had a problem like this in this store. Corporate knows about it, the cashiers have (supposedly) had extra instruction, and I’ve been assured they’re being vigilant.

Oh, yeah, I can see that.

I took my two bucks, turned my wagon around and, fueled by a roiling sense of indignation, rolled out of the store.  

Smack into a slim, distinguished looking older man holding a handful of small silk flowers. Not gonna lie -- the same man I brushed right past on my way in, and had already plotted how to avoid on the way out. A former serviceman collecting donations for the Veterans of Foreign Wars. 

VFW "Buddy Poppies" are assembled by disabled, needy and aging veterans in VA Hospitals and Veterans Homes across the country. The money raised from the campaign is used for the welfare of veterans or their dependents or orphans. It helps maintain rehab and service programs for these men and women who risked, and sometimes lost, their lives for our country. 

Suddenly, the two singles I got back for my coupons had a whole lot more meaning, reminding me that it's really not that big a deal to forget some things, but we must always remember some others. Umbrage gave way to gratitude. The scowl I’m sure I was wearing became a smile.

“How much are the flowers?” I asked. 

“Whatever you care to donate,” he said.

Two bucks it is, sir, and thank you VERY MUCH for your service.



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