Soap in the Fountain

 

One thing Self-Checkout has taken away from us is waiting-line banter and eavesdroppings. Cart loaded up, I decided to get in a regular checkout lane. Seeing everyone had as much or more groceries than I did, I walked on, trying to choose where to wait. I passed up the line with the screaming infant, the line with the arguing couple, and opted for the guy with a lifetime supply of paper goods piled in his mini-cart.

Remember how long it took Walmart to get Self-Checkout and the mini-cart? They wanted us to have a cart so large we had to fill it full of things that were too good of a deal to pass up. And, we were supposed to sit in the checkout line and add point-of-purchase products, too. Our Walmart isn’t as large as most others, so the mini-carts fit really well in the aisles. People tend to be ‘tralinear’ (See Blog post from Jan. 30 for definition) with the mini-cart, loading everything they can fit as if it were a mass-volume displacement toy.

It’s no surprise when one-of-a-hundred Kleenex boxes falls out of his cart. As I give it to him, he thanks me and I notice his ECU alumni sweatshirt. Turns out he graduated a few years before I did. We reminisce about college days in eastern North Carolina in the 80s. Dime draft at the Elbow, Happy-Hour at Cubbies, punch cards for Drop-Add, Hank’s Homemade, etc.

When I chose this line, I thought I had nothing in common with him. Walking away, he hollers back at me, ”Ever put soap in the fountain?” I smile, remembering a covert mission in the wee hours of the night during exams. Dressed in black, three of us headed out with the little Tide boxes from the Jarvis laundry room.

Words and Photo copyright by Mar Startari, 2019

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