I was in a rush.
I needed to be back in the office, and the mother of all slow-ass old women was in front of me, quietly taking out her double-quadruple coupons from a microscopic change purse and handing it every so slowly to the cashier, Mary.
Glaciers melt faster than this.
"Let's go, lady, let's go!", I thought.
Mary knows the old lady. They start up a quick banter.
"How you been, Doris?", asks Mary. Doris is trying to zip up her change purse.
"Well, not too good. Allen found out he has ALS. You know, Lou Gehrig's Disease?"
Mary looks up. "My God, I'm so sorry."
Doris shrugs it off like it's nothing, but it's not very convincing. "The doctors say that he's gotta eat, but he's not eating much. And he's so tired all the time. They're making him drink Ensure. You know Ensure? That stuff tastes AWFUL!"
Mary hands Doris the receipt. "You give my best to Allen, all right?"
"Will do." Doris grabs her groceries and walks out.
Mary turns to me. "How are you today, sir?"
"Good," I tell her. But what I really want to say is:
Yeah, I'm doing a helluva lot better than Doris. And here I am, sweating her over my purchase of wheat bread and bananas. I'm such a fucking asshole. I just have to get back to work. Doris needs to figure out how she's gonna take care of her husband, and how she's gonna get along without him.
It's moments like this that remind me of how fortunate I really am, and in so doing reminds me of how precious life really is.
I should always remember that.
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