Late one afternoon, as I stood in line waiting to pay for my groceries at a woefully understaffed store, I considered how enjoyable life might be if I never entered another grocery store.
For example, suppose we began exclusively utilizing one of the new Internet grocery shopping services we had occasionally used during the past few months?
After all, our experience with grocery shopping online has been remarkably like the promise. We purchased a few staples, selected a delivery time, and then sat back and waited. Our deliveries were on time, or so we thought until one of the drivers handed us a $5 off coupon for our next order because she was five minutes late.
If only all home service people were this considerate.
Meanwhile, back in the checkout line, which continued to snake well past the alien-abduction magazines, I glanced sideways and saw a fellow elementary school parent nearby; the mutual delay gave us a chance to talk about a volunteer program coming up.
And I thought about the last time our family had been in the grocery store, when we saw an architect and his family whose son had been a fellow YMCA soccer team member. We hadn’t seen them for awhile, and it was good to find out what they had been doing and see how the family had grown.
As the checkout line moved ever-so-slightly forward past the magazines and next to the candy and drinks, I thought back to another chance meeting in the soup aisle – there across from the canned chili and stewed tomatoes, I bumped into a fellow Dallas Northeast Chamber of Commerce member and his wife. I hadn’t seen either of them for awhile either, and he asked for the telephone number of a zoning attorney they needed to help with their home expansion.
And there was the time, a few months ago, when I noticed a man standing near the deli counter handing out samples of his family’s pride and joy – a condiment mix they hoped would catapult them to fame and fortune. By talking with him for a few minutes, I found out he lived in the neighborhood, had quit his job as an attorney and invested a bunch of his family’s savings in the product. It was a great small-business story, something I wouldn’t have known without wandering by his table.
Finally, mercifully, my wait was over. I reached the checkout counter, paid my bill, loaded my groceries and began walking home. It was a beautiful, brisk fall evening, with a bright moon shining down on me as twilight slowly lost its grip on the moment, and a neighbor honked and waved as he drove past.
Continuing on home, I thought about how much time I could have saved and how much longer I could have been home, watching TV or surfing on the Internet or doing something else important, if I hadn’t had to wait in line at the grocery store.
Just a little food for thought, I guess.