John and I just returned from our neighborhood grocery store. We are within a short walking distance which provides us a chance to be outside and to see some of our neighbors even if from afar.
We went in the afternoon and discovered that this was everyone else’s ideal time to shop as well. Not a crowd by any means, but enough to make us look around to see what kind of queue was forming; no real rhyme or reason, but everyone knew who came next.
One man greeted us in Hebrew and by the blank looks on our faces he switched to French…still blank…and then English…Huzzah! He indicated that he was last and we should follow after him when he is waved into the grocery store. (The newest restrictions now require only a limited amount of people in the store at once.)
John and I stood 6 feet away from everyone and observed culture as those who tried to insert themselves into the not-formed line was directly sent to the “back” of the line…of which there was no line at all, but the nice man informed the newcomers their place in the queue.
After a while, we were given the signal to go in. John and I both began to walk in when the supermarket lady flapped both arms and raised her voice. Does that mean to hurry up? Does that mean we’re the millionth customer and we’ve won a grand prize?
Neither actually. The new restrictions permit only one person per family to enter the store. John said he’d sit this one out. Magnanimous.
Inside, I used the provided hand sanitizer and put on rubber gloves. I found the items on my list and a few extras. The shelves are still pretty stocked and no one here is in the black market TP business, so there’s plenty.
I walked with my goods to the belt, but paused when I saw a man with a big cart full of items heading toward the same cashier. I would wait.The cashier told him (as I can only guess by her gestures) to let me go first. He argued. She argued back. I tried to match the pattern on the floor, but neither would relent. Finally, she pointed at me and motioned for me to put my goods on the belt or else. I did.
He still yelled. She muttered under her mask and it was probably good for both of us that I understood none of it.As she began checking my items, the man continued to express his strong opinions. I tried to smile in all directions and offered a loaf of sour dough as a form of peace pipe. No go.
My liquid soap wouldn’t scan which made her all the more frustrated. I have learned some Hebrew but none of which include, “I’m really sorry for this virus thing and all your stress and yelling customers and soap that doesn’t ring up!” I’ll have to see if my language app has added any updates for our current situation.
The drama ended after about 10 minutes and the transaction was completed. I tried my best to give her my warmest smile as I said thank you. The man with the full cart and the loud complaint had now settled down and pushed his cart to a new location.
I walked out signaling John that I was in the clear. He took a bag and we walked back to our flat. I began recounting the event and we both agreed that those who continue to work in service areas need our prayers and exceptional kindness. I’m thinking of making cards or something for them just so they know how much they are appreciated.
They and so many others in a wide variety of industries are keeping all of us going. If you are one of those people, THANK YOU! Would you tell us what you’re doing in the comments below? I’d love a chance for all of us to send you our thanks! (Don’t be shy.) What ideas have you thought of for showing appreciation in this time? I’d love to hear them!
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