I was in line at the employee-owned grocery in Reedsport when I reached for my wallet and learned I had left it in the Rolling Steel Tent. So I stepped out of line and stowed my three small items out of the way.
A guy about my age with a pug and a quart of low fat milk asked if I had a problem. When I explained he offered to save my spot in line, seeing as how the store was busy with after-work shoppers. (I could have timed this better.) “Thanks, but don’t bother.”
He must have been watching me out the window as I walked to the van and back because he was retrieving my items form their hiding place as I walked up. I turned to get in line behind him and he said, “Go ahead. You were in front of me.”
“No, you go first. You have only one thing. No big deal.” After a little more you-first-no-you-first he finally acquiesced.
The dog was sniffing around my feet so I bent over to pet it. “Yeah, he likes that,” said the man. “You have a dog?”
“Not anymore.”
“Ah, too bad. It’s sad when they pass. You should get another.”
I have a few reasons why not, but I shared the one he might accept. “I feel like it would be disloyal. Besides, I carry his ashes with me.” He nodded.
The cashier was as pleasant as the man had been, even though she was dealing with the rush. Maybe, as one of the employee owners she was thinking about how more customers mean greater profitability.
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