Old Folks: Three Acts in Five Minutes

Act 1

I’m in line at Publix, items loaded on the conveyor, waiting for the lady on an electric cart ahead of me to finish checking out. I’m in my rightful place at the beginning of the conveyor belt, patiently waiting my turn, when a elderly woman as tall as my nine-year-old walks up behind me.

Like, RIGHT behind me.

Pardon me, ma’am, are you familiar with personal space? Perhaps you’ve heard of Covid-19 & social distancing in the last few years?

But there’s MAYBE six inches of space open on the conveyor belt and she’s ready to move in, regardless of who’s in her way. When I don’t move, she literally tries to force me forward with HER CART. Slowly I feel the cart push up against me with more and more insistence. I simply brace myself and refuse to move because, again, IT’S NOT MY TURN and there’s nowhere to go. Would she have me hover over the shoulder of the cashier working at the register to my right or stand next to the woman checking out and watch her enter her PIN at the card reader? That six inches on the conveyor belt will not fit the entirety of your cart, and there’s literally two people ahead of you, so maybe just cool it for a minute, yeah?

Eventually the lady ahead of me finishes and the bagger, an older gentleman around 70, walks her out so he can bring back the electric cart. I advance to my place at the card reader and leave the old lady and her audacity behind.

Act 2

Fast forward and I’m walking out to the parking lot, hands and arms defiantly full of bags, cart left inside. That same bagger is now crawling back towards the store on the cart when our eyes meet. Slowly he swerves and aims his snail tank STRAIGHT at me, mischievous grin on his face, ready to play chicken with the company’s property and both of our lives.

I can’t help but laugh in appreciation at his playfulness, despite this technically being the second old person that afternoon attempting to take me out with a cart.

Act 3

I continue walking to my car and pass a woman around my age and a man who appears to be her elderly father. He takes a hold of her arm as they walk, seemingly to steady himself, and the woman jokingly asks, “You good? You need a piggyback ride there?” To which the man quips back, “You offering?!” and they both laugh.

I laugh, too, reminded of my dad, whose own mischievous ways and laugh I still miss 12 years later.

-The End-