Electric Slugs

Readers, a question – What are your favorite “in-between” moments?

I’m looking for purposeful moments where you are en route to something, but not there quite yet. These can be simple things like riding an airplane or mundane tasks like tuning your instrument or sharpening a pencil. Really any moment where you are occupying physical space or performing a task not defined properly as a “place,” or a “task.” Still, you gain satisfaction from being in that moment. Perhaps your favorite in-betweens are more sentimental … walking hand-in-hand with a good date from a restaurant to her car or hugging an old friend in their doorway after seeing them for the first time in years. This information isn’t particularly for anything. I’m just curious. I happened to be on an escalator today and realized I (genuinely, really do) get some satisfaction out of that “in-between.” What are some of your favorites?

For the most part, checkout clerks are invisible. I always found this weird because who else do you wait in line to see only to then ignore when you’re face-to-face? Bearing this in mind, I’ll drop a healthy “Hello!” before the first can of beans crosses that scanner. The clerk, who’s probably been on their feet for the past four hours will sometimes lazily greet me back. Sometimes they won’t say anything. Whatever, no big deal. It’s a tough job. I did it for a while as a teenager and I hated it.

Inevitably, however, the clerk will ask me, “Do you have your club card?”

I’ll immediately brighten.

“Nope. I don’t have one!”

They will look at me, sizing me up. I will smile, assuring them I am a trustworthy fellow.

And thus, we reach a crucial dramatic moment. Will the clerk swipe their store card and plug me into all that sweet, sweet savings? Or will they ignore me and continue to ring up the order, essentially telling me to go f*ck myself?

Lots of times it’s go f*ck yourself.

That’s cool. Four hours is a long time to be standing. No worries, man.

But if they do swipe their card – there’s this collective high that settles on us both. The clerk, feeling heroic and magnanimous for swiping my uncarded butt has become momentary savior for this poor tall slob who just wants to save 30 cents on a can of beans. I - the gracious saved – pour thanks upon the clerk, telling them (in a very enthusiastic Geoff Fox kind of way) what a wonderful job they are doing and how happy 30 cents off my beans made me.

Seriously. It makes me really happy. Which I know is weird,  but if you can’t enjoy the simple pleasures …

And from there, a conversation usually kicks off. The conversations are brief, to be sure … but they’ve been somewhat substantive.

For example, I’ve learned about clerks’s TV habits (many young people still love MASH), why ‘Chubby Hubby’ is the best ice cream ever made (it’s delicious, I’ll concede), ongoing repairs at their homes, lost loved ones, and tons of other weird – often personal – stuff you wouldn’t think to get out of a two minute conversation.

Scientists haven’t run the numbers, but I’m pretty sure two minutes of checkout lane chatter is the equivalent of forging a blood bond with a random potato vendor in medieval England. You’re bonded to that person for life, or at least until they get a better job at Trader Joe’s in three months.*

Give it a try next time your at the store. Maybe I’m an aberration. Maybe random people just talk to me. But, assuming I’m not THAT charming, I’m convinced some – maybe even most  - clerks are dying to break their routine and chit chat. If you’re lucky, you might find yourself in a stimulating conversation about pop tarts, pennies or lost loved ones. You never know what’s on a clerk’s mind … just tell them you don’t have one of those stupid club cards and wait to hear what they have to say.

*I don’t know that Trader Joe’s is any better of a supermarket to work at than Stop&Shop. But in my head it is, partly because I picture their orientation video narrated by a guy dressed like Giuseppe Garibaldi.