Alaska Animal Antics by Elverda Lincoln

Author:Elverda Lincoln
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publication Consultants

MEMORIES OF A SHOPPER

Elverda Lincoln

Some people love to shop, others don't. Some have money to shop, others don't. Me, I have a ball. At times I wonder why it is I who gets the shopping cart with wheels that go bump, bump, bump. Or stand in the checkout line behind a customer who waits until she is told how much her bill is before she digs her checkbook out of her purse. Then she asks who to make the check out to and what date it is. First, of course, she asks the clerk for a pen.

On one of my frequent trips to Wal-Mart, as I was standing in the checkout line, an elderly man was playing his harmonica while the clerk checked his items: jeans, western hat, and shirt. He planned to attend a western dance the following Friday and was also looking for a good Christian woman to be his wife. “Do you know of any?” he asked us. People listened and gathered around as he continued to play more tunes. He said he enjoyed life to the fullest and looked for adventure every day. He said he didn't want to die. God was everywhere. He didn't want to go to heaven; he was scared of heights. He played more tunes as the clerk and I tried to talk him into applying for a greeter job right there at Wal-Mart. We agreed a harmonica-playing greeter would be a novelty. The clerk got his name and phone number, and promised to talk to the store manager.

A few weeks later as I was standing in the checkout line at Carr's grocery store the clerk admired my sweater. I told her I had washed it the day before, that was why it looked so nice. We laughed. She told us about an eighty-seven-year-old lady and her daughter in her checkout line. The clerk had admired the older lady's sweater, and the elderly woman said, “You can have it when I'm finished with it.” Two weeks later, the daughter returned with the sweater. Her mother had died. When the clerk received the sweater she cried and cried.

She also told us how she admired a customer's blouse. The customer said she admired the clerk's blouse, so they went to the store's restroom and traded blouses.

A few months later, I was in the checkout line at Safeway. A clerk there was yelling at an elderly man in the next line and said to him, “You sure drive slow. I couldn't get around you all the way to Wasilla. I was almost late.” The man loudly proclaimed, “I'm retired and in no hurry. Don't tell me how to drive. You drive your way, and I'll drive mine.” The clerk yelled back, “I could walk faster than you drive.” He responded, “That's fine with me.”

The days were warm and sunny but the nights were quite cool. Conditions were ripe for mice to start finding a warm home for the winter and a few found my basement.

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