Aiming for Gratitude. With Mrs. Furrow.
Today I became that customer. I so didn't mean to and it wasn't that bad, but it got me some nasty looks from the lady behind me. I just can't understand why everyone is in such a hurry anymore!! The other day, my husband, Jason, and I were talking about how people seem to be acting like they're on fire or something. Honestly I just can't figure out why everyone's life is on cheetah-mode!
But back to the story...I'm at the grocery store. I bought a small cart-full and started through the line. The small lady bagging asks me, "Would you like paper or plastic?" Then it hits me. I can't answer that. I'm in Boulder!! Boulder people expect you to have earth-saving, tree-hugging, re-usable bags! And what's worse? I'm wearing my tree-nursery shirt that says "I LOVE TREES" on the back. No joke! I was paralyzed for a second. What to do?? Think Shanny! But I'm quick. Not with math, but pretty much everything else. (Well while we're on it, I'm not really a fast runner either, but yea, I'm quick with everything else). So I suddenly remember: I purchased some uber trendy re-usable shopping bags with yellow owls on them at Forever21 a few weeks ago. I could totally use those!!! But they were somewhere in my trunk. I asked the bagging lady if it was okay to run out to my car to get them. "Sure," she said, "that should be fine, we're not that busy." So I went. Ran outside. Dug through my trunk and bags of nursery stuff and found them. All 4 cute bags with Mr. Hoots on them.
When I reach my check-out lane again, somehow there are people in my lane waiting and people in the other lanes surrounding me. What are the chances of it just getting busy in the last 2 minutes? So at this point, I'm starting to feel bad. The checking-out is done, but now we have to bag everything. The lady behind me (whom I might add was wearing a burlap skirt and patterned Birkenstocks), was super grumpy-looking with her arms crossed and a furrow at her brow. She looked as though I'd done the Mexican hat dance all over her bridal wreath. But how, I thought, I just ran to get my bags so I'm earth-friendly! Isn't that what you people want?!! At this point I'm fretting (and thinking mean thoughts) trying to help bag my things so she can check out too, when the cashier asks me, "M'am, do you have a discount-card with us?" Even though she said M'am, I answered her. "Um, yes I do." I hand her my card. Then my credit card...but wait!! I suddenly remember I have a $12 off coupon and I honestly did my shopping today JUST so I could use it! Oh man, pulling the coupon out of my wallet felt like it took an eternity. I swear the whole world swayed in slow-motion because of the glare Mrs. Furrow was giving behind me. I smiled politely, but felt my face blush as I saw her count the 2 minutes that had passed since I'd returned from my car with the hoot-bags. Two minutes that were obviously the most precious minutes of her furrowed life.
The cashier rings the coupon. Then rings it in again. "Strange," she says. "It's saying you didn't purchase the minimum order to received the $12 off, but you're only $.34 away." Feeling the pressure of Mrs. Furrow's time-constraint now, I blurt out, "I'll just buy some gum then. Any flavor...that will do it!" I smile again. And my face starts turning a new shade of pink. The cashier rings in the gum. Then the coupon. Then the coupon again. Oh man, please let this go faster, I think. This lady is about to pull out her laser eyes!! The cashier calls the manager to over-ride the faulty coupon and it's then that I realize I'm that customer. I'm the slow one. The one who has a problem, or two, in the check-out lane that holds everyone up. I apologize to Mrs. Furrow in my mind, but try to quickly gather my things so she knows I'm remorseful for holding her up. I really am!! The manager scans the coupon and I illegibly scribble a signature and leave the pen swinging on the bungee...after all, it would have taken another .9 seconds to put the pen back. As I pull the cart out, the cashier asks if the discount card on the counter was mine. I realize it is and with one last look, I smile politely at Mrs. Furrow. She rolls hers eyes. I'm suddenly tempted to stick out my tongue, but instead I just scoop up my card and head out.
In the parking-lot I load my trunk to the brim, and then begin my journey home. There is construction on the road that holds up traffic. Then I'm following cars driving at the pace of a snail. And I hit all the red lights. Coasting into my driveway forever-and-a-day later, I think to myself, please don't let me have laser eyes and a furrow, God. I will try to live each moment in gratitude. I am careful to enunciate this word: TRY.
Happy Tuesday!
