Thursday 21 June 2018

"Do you want bags?"

the girl at the checkout asked me. 
Bags. I take my own bags to the supermarket. I have done for many years, before the idea of taking your own was considered environmentally responsible.
But yesterday we looked at each other and considered the idea.
    "It would mean I don't need to label the boxes," she told me, "And the bags are potato."
    "And I can recycle the bags to Vinnie's," I said.
The problem was that I had gone into the supermarket to get something for the Senior Cat. I found that and I found that a certain brand of breakfast cereal was on display for less than half price. 
The Senior Cat still goes to church on Sundays. There  is a box kept in the narthex which the congregation fills with tins and packets to go to a food bank. Each Sunday I provide the Senior Cat with something to put in the box. 
This particular brand of breakfast cereal is, as commercial breakfast cereals go, a good one. It comes in the form of compact wheat flake biscuits. They have a long shelf life. They don't require refrigeration or anything other than keep them in a dry place. It is the sort of breakfast cereal the food bank likes to get. At less than half price I promptly bought a half a dozen packets. It meant changing my mind about what we would be eating this week but I knew the Senior Cat would agree with the decision. I also bought a larger than usual bag of potatoes because I thought I was going to have to pay to have it all delivered. It was far more than I could manage to put in the basket of my trike.
I had explained where the breakfast cereal would be going to the girl at the checkout. She is someone I know slightly - one of the students for whom I occasionally read an essay.
       "Would you mind getting a bigger trolley?" she asked me.
I went to get one of the larger trolleys.
As I was coming back I noticed her speaking to the manager, someone who also knows me. He gave me a wave and walked off.
I thought nothing more of it. 
Now of course you pay to have things delivered. I didn't expect to get the delivery for nothing. I paid for the groceries and rushed off to the library to pick up a book I needed. The rest of the morning was a rush too. 
Just after lunch yet another supermarket employee I know turned up with all the bags - the weekly shop and the extras. He left them all with a cheerful,
      "You're welcome Cat."
I checked against the docket after he had gone and then I checked again. They hadn't charged me for the delivery.  I pedalled back to the supermarket in the afternoon. The manager was just leaving for his very late lunch.
     "If that's about the delivery charge don't worry. I.... told me where the cereal was going and D.... just delivered it on his way home," he told me before I could say anything.
The delivery charge will make all the difference to my budget for the week. Is it any wonder that I like the staff in my local supermarket? 

1 comment:

helen devries said...

What lovely people.