Cleanup On Aisle Two

by Jeff Baker

Arnie Gilman shifted the loaf of bread in his arms. Real bread, he thought, not that processed stuff they grow in sheets. He should have probably gotten a cart, but hell, sixty-four wasn’t old. He could carry the big bottle of juice in one hand, the bread in the other and the spatula under his arm.

He glanced out the big grocery store windows as he walked up front to the checkout. Maybe he’d catch a glimpse of the Mars Shuttle that was leaving from the airport. He smiled. He and Mark had always talked about taking one to Mars for a vacation. But now…

He sighed.

He glanced at the lines in the checkout lanes. No, not there. And not at the odious self-checkout. (“Why do they still have those damn things anyway?”) He looked over at one end of the front of the store; off to one side was a checkout lane with nobody in it, just a youngish-looking guy with dark hair standing beside the register. A sign overhead proclaimed: Slow Checkout.” He remembered those. He was in no hurry. He walked over and put his items on the conveyor.

“Hi,” the young man said. “I’m Carlos.”

“Gilman,” he replied. “Arnie Gilman. You know I think I remember these from years ago, they were big in Europe.”

“Oh yeah,” Carlos said, not making any effort to check any of Gilman’s items. “This chain decided to bring them back. Just started this one up last week.”

“The idea was for there to be a lane for checkers to take their time and talk to the customers because a lot of older people are just lonely and come into stores for conversation.” Gilman said.

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Carlos said. “It’s just been a week but I have some regulars who come by here. One lady comes in every day and just buys a bag of M & M’s. Talks for five minutes.” He grinned. “But I don’t mind.”

“That’s nice of you,” Gilman said looking around. “You know, I worked in a store like this back when I was in High School. Must have been about fifty years ago. And an afternoon I’ll never forget, it was in the middle of Summer and I was working back in the stockroom when we heard the voice come over the loudspeaker:”

Arnie cupped his hand over his mouth and intoned in a nasal voice:

“Attention. Any checker or manager. Repeat, any checker or manager. Self-checkout is down and I am the only checker on any register. There is a line of customers stretching back to the pharmacy. If someone does not open another register in the next three minutes, I will walk and there will be nobody checking out customers.”

Carlos laughed. “What happened?”

“Well let’s put it this way: I’m glad I wasn’t in the way of our Manager when he ran out of the stockroom headed up front!”

They both laughed again.

“Well, hey, I’d better get your stuff checked in, huh?” Carlos said.

“I’m not in a big hurry but sure,” Gilman said.

As Carlos scanned the three items and put them in a bag, he said “Next time you come by here I can tell you a couple of crazy stories about working here.”

“Sounds like fun,” Gilman said taking the bag and nodding goodbye, musing how Mark would have liked the young man and the whole idea of what he was doing.

But Gilman felt better. Happier.

“Bye, Sir,” Carlos said.

“Bye,” Gilman said waving a hand.

As Gilman walked out to his car he made a note to come back soon and buy some M & M’s.

—end—