She looked timeworn but friendly as she promptly rounded the corner of the checkout aisle of the grocery store down the street.
She had hoary
adjective / hohr-ee / hoariness / hoarier / hoariest whitish-grey from aging There is not really any courage at all in attacking hoary or antiquated things, any more than in offering to fight one’s grandmother. The really courageous man curls that were too short to hide her face behind, but that didn’t stop her from trying.
She was eager to help me add my cart full of groceries to the belt. I had already bought a round of groceries this weekend, but I needed medicine and green vegetables now.
She smiled and asked me to get The Things from the bottom rack and she would get The Things from the basket.
I said, “Of course,” and kneeled to grab the kitten food and cookies loaded there. She handed me the tomatoes I had picked for the salads I am trying to eat more of. She wanted me to pick a good spot for them at the back of the belt to keep them safe, “unless I was making salsa,” she said.
I explained I was too lazy for that.
She smirked her wrinkled eyes and said, “Oh, I really doubt that.”
She noticed I had a cold and asked if I had gotten antibiotics for it yet. I told her I had – just this morning. She smiled and continued unloading until it was my turn for checkout.
I kept trying to find a bag to add some of The Things to but she was three steps ahead of me and I could only stand there watching her and the cashier work in unison as I dug for a card in my combination wallet-giant cell phone case with a crossbody strap.
They worked together to bag The Things after they were scanned and she placed them in the cart. She bagged the tomatoes and bacon separately and made sure I knew they were in a special place on the top of the grocery bag pile.
I thanked her and she silently nodded her head.
She declared she would help me take The Things to my car, but I insisted I would do it and thanked her again. There was no smile this time as she turned with a slight slump and began to bag the groceries for the lady after me.
I did as I said and loaded my car, put the buggy away, and pulled out of my parking spot along the newly paved lot. As I crossed in front of the store entrance, I saw her again. She was pushing a cart full of loaded grocery bags for a pregnant lady with a little boy perched in the rider seat. They were bouncing and giggling for each other. The little boy was happy and she had regained her smile bustling with all of The Things.