At Publix, employees are taught to exude, above all else, “premiere customer service.” When I stepped in to a staff position role and began working the customer service desk, there were definitely instances when I had to let go of my own sense of justice and follow my manager's instructions to give the customer whatever they want.
I have definitely encountered customers who take advantage of this policy as well as the customers who have genuine issue with their groceries or the sometimes confusing weekly sales gimmicks. But until yesterday, I had never had to escort someone out of the store.
I'm in the midst of an 8-day work marathon and showed up for my 7am-4pm shift yesterday morning. It was a relatively slow start to the morning, as they usually are, and I was monitoring the self-checkout lanes as well as helping the opening bagger with their morning chores of setting up the store for the day. I was moving some of the electric shopping carts outside when someone who had no business coming in the store was making his attempt.
I don't like being “the heavy.” My one experience trying to be a bouncer at a local bar was a hilarious failure. But I knew what I had to do in this situation. Upon seeing this individual in the foyer, I sprang to action and prevented his entry.
At 3/4” tall and 2”long, he wasn't very hard to scoop up, although he did resist. But we simply don't allow frogs in the store. This one wanted to know if the rumors were true that I knew Kermit the Frog. I escorted him to a nice patch of grass and told him to try Piggly Wiggly instead. I hear pigs have a preference for frogs.
In the second half of my workday, I was cashiering all the way down at register 1 near the pharmacy. A line of customers began to form in my lane around 3 o'clock, with an elderly lady at the front. She had two separate orders: one was a container of cut up cantaloupe a friend had asked her to purchase with a $10 bill the friend had given her.
I rang up the cantaloupe after the lady paid for her own groceries and she began frantically rummaging through her purse, unable to find the $10 bill that her friend had given her. She was growing intensely frustrated and was apologizing to me and the customers behind her, none of whom were visibly agitated. I think we were all hoping she'd find it and I tried reassuring her that she could take all the time she needed.
After a minute or so, her emotional state intensified, she excused herself from the line and moved her cart to the front of the store and continued looking. That's when I heard a voice call me from the back of the line and saw a face I know all too well.
We have several regular Instacart shoppers that we employees see on a regular basis. Some we appreciate because they know what they're doing and make the process easy for everybody. There are also some we dread because they do the exact opposite. Then there are special cases.
Chris is a special case. In his late 50's, knee-high socks and shorts, slicked back salt-and-pepper hair, thick black frames, he is usually positioned between two shopping carts because he'll shop multiple orders at a time. He is the epitome of persnickety.
When I first encountered Chris, he was the one I dreaded to see coming the most. He is often curt, rude and abrupt to criticize any employee who is unfamiliar with his routine or does not do something to his liking. I know there are employees who actively avoid bagging his groceries or avoid him altogether. Others don't take him seriously and try to needle him.
Here are his three rules for how the groceries are to be bagged: 1)Everything in a bag (including gallon milk jugs, which we are not supposed to bag per store policy), 2) No bag filled too heavy 3) All liquids standing up (this one is mostly in regard to some baggers who'll lay down a bottle of wine in a bag)
Early on, after my first experience with Chris, I did try to avoid him. Over time, I just got used to his usual liturgy and began reciting it to the bagger when he'd come through my line, which he actually seemed to appreciate. Now I can needle him a bit and he does seem to peek through a tough exterior when I do. But mostly, I just give him a wide berth.
So, when this sweet old lady became frustrated and excused herself from my checkout line, the face I saw in back of the line was Chris'. He motioned for me to come around to the back of my line and gave me a $20.
I rang up the cantaloupe, put it in a plastic shopping bag and got the lady's attention. “What?! How did you do that?” I told her it was magic and a “Good Samaritan.” She asked for my name and thanked me and left the store with her groceries.
About 30 minutes later, I got a tap on my shoulder and there was this sweet lady holding a card with my name on it. She gave it to me and thanked me again and I gave her a hug, telling her she didn't need to do that. When I had a slow moment in the line, I opened the card and there was a $5 bill to reimburse for the cantaloupe Well, I knew what I had to do: I had to find Chris.
I suppose I could have just kept that $5 and said nothing and Chris would have been none the wiser. But I know whose face I have to look at in the mirror everyday and that wasn't going to happen.
He came through my line once more before my shift ended and I handed him the card. “This has my name on it but it should be for you.”
“Please tell me there's no money in that card,” he said.
I told him there was. He took out the card, opened it and said, “Take that. I don't want it. It's not about the money. There have been plenty of times when I saw something that needed to be done and I didn't do anything. But I wasn't going to keep that lady from getting her fruit.”
It was like watching the transformation of Ebeneezer Scrooge or The Grinch: that moment when you see a little humanity peek through the cracks of a harsh and brittle misanthrope.
Our society is being fueled right now by filtered and targeted divisiveness. I am thankful that I can still see a full spectrum of human interactions at the grocery store. Just do what the good book says and love your neighbor as you would yourself. Get off your phones. Go buy some cantaloupe or buy some for your neighbor.
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