OUT AND ABOUT

 

After dropping C off at her office, I began my morning shopping. I arrived at Fresh Thyme 9ish and bumped into a morning cashier I had not seen since the holidays. She has a new job in the store: hanging shelf tags and signage. While we’re chatting, a middle-aged woman walks up behind my friend and begins inquiring about strawberries. She is talking directly to me despite my friend’s store attire of apron and name tag, standing next to a cart holding tags and signs. I’m bundled up wearing a stocking cap and mask with a bascart with a number of items in front of me. The customer continues to direct her queries to me as I silently listen. Finally, when there is a pause, my friend pivots, explains where the strawberries are as she invites the woman to follow her. I have seen this behavior before where a certain kind of woman of a certain age will go directly to a male for help. I guess they figure that employees in the higher levels of store hierarchy often are male. Why bother with the underlings? Go directly to those who know. My time is important!

I needed cash for the cannabis so I drove over to the credit union ATM. Oddly, my debit card was rejected so I had to go inside. The set up has changed drastically due to Covid-no longer are there counters manned by clerks. One checks in much like how you do when you get your blood drawn at Sparrow Labs: you punch in your name into a screen, then wait to be called by the next available clerk. It feels like having a personal banker. I explain the situation to the clerk who makes me a brand new card-I joke that the magnetic strip on the back is worn away from excessive use. I pay for everything with it. I had some time so I purpose a bit of an experiment: I’ll go out and try the new card on the ATM. If it fails again, then it was not the card but some glitch with that particular machine. So, out I go and sure enough, the card is rejected. I try the other ATM and here, I am successful. I go back in and report my findings. The clerk is pleased, thanks me and said she’ll pass along news of this incident. I parted with these thoughts: I had spent much time in retail and know how Fridays and especially those on the cusp of some holiday (SuperDooper Bowl) can produce difficult customers. Thank goodness this glitch was found now and not later where it potentially could produce howling mobs with pitchforks and torches. Yes, replied the clerk, the mob isn't scheduled until later.

My rheumatologist suggested I try tart cherry capsules as I was finding the liquid version either too expensive or hard to find thanks to our continuing supply chain problems. I had prescriptions waiting so I went into my usual Rite Aid. An older clerk helped me find the capsules and as a fellow sufferer, we exchanged anecdotes. While I have osteoarthritis mainly in the hands, this poor woman has it throughout her body. She said she had been on large doses of percocet prescribed by her primary for some time until he left.  According to her tale, he announced his retirement and told her to wean off the meds. Good luck and so long. This incident seemed to be a bit off. Really? This guy just split? No referral, no pamphlet on how to safely diminish the use of your pain killers? My reckoning is that this is a cover story, a spin on what actually happened. Perhaps the doctor wanted her to wean because she had been on them too long but she refused. He may have escalated in turn by refusing to prescribe in the future. Who knows. It’s a human trait that we create myths about events, for ourselves and others, to portray us in the best light. Folks don’t like admitting their faults whether they were addicts or that they support The Roach.

Coming out of Menards, I witnessed this incident. This happened a couple of rows away in the parking lot so I could not hear what was said. Just the body language of those involved. Three young black men, dressed in hoodies were dragging several 30 gallon trash cans to a van. They were messing around as young guys often do. Out of the store, coming towards them at speed was a coatless male employee. The group did not see him but a tall, older African American man did. This gentleman must have stood a good 6’6”. I saw him say something to the white clerk who replied and the older man held up a very long sales receipt. The clerk retreated and the man joined what I then perceived to be his employees back at the van which, with because of all the writing and imagery, obviously was a company vehicle. So, what did I see? A classic micro-aggression by the white employee? Hell, there was a white guy dragging a cart containing a toilet in the same area. I didn’t see him interrogated. Or was it the clowning behavior by the hooded black young men which will immediately draw the attention of security in any retail store?