I’m retired. That means I don’t go to work. It doesn't mean I sit around eating bon bons and reading movie magazines (do they even have them anymore?) It just means I don’t get up at 5 a.m., get decently dressed and go somewhere they pay me for something. I am often awake at 5 a.m., but rarely decently dressed until absolutely necessary. And, as other retired people will testify, there is always plenty to do and people who need things done.
In a previous diatribe I suggested that people who feel the need to mind each others’ business do something else, like go to the grocery store. I go to Kroger every Wednesday. Count on it. We have family dinner on Wednesday night, and I surely couldn’t go any sooner. I’d eat the food. (I usually go as well on Thursday, Friday, Saturday…you get the picture). Linda is my checker of choice. She is a delightful lady who rarely gets disgruntled. They have a variety of nice people at Kroger who I greet every Wednesday, but Linda and I have formed a friendship. She asks about my family and particularly my grandson, Daniel. She convinced me to buy the reusable bags. She waits patiently while I fumble for my Kroger card. She gets a guy to lift the dog food. We’re buds, of a sort.
Linda wasn’t there this week. Another nice lady checked me out and I buggied my bags on out. I’m sure Linda will be back. She disappeared on me last year for a while and had me worried. Turns out she was on vacation. I’m sure she needed it. I’ve been a checker before, not in a grocery store. It can be an extremely stressful job. But Linda always has a smile, even when it is hard.
Wherever you were, Linda, I hope it was for good and not some trauma. I missed you, my friend.
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