PATIENCE PLEASE

I wasn’t born having patience and highly doubt very few people are. Patience is something that has to be developed over time, and now, with sixty-nine years under my belt, I’ve yet to totally master this moral virtue.

My first remembrance of not having patience goes back to grade school. Quite often, the class would take turns reading from a book. Generally, a student would read out loud several paragraphs before another classmate took over. I was a Dodge fast reader back then – while most kids were Ford slow. Unable to sit there and wait, I’d read ahead and quickly be done with the chapter, while little Timmy struggled through his first paragraph.

The problem with this—when my turn eventually arrived, I didn’t know where we were, with the teacher having to show me, or another student. I suspect a few instructors thought I’d been sleeping, which was probably right in some cases. In Lubbock, Texas, there was no air-conditioning in Reese Elementary, and a warm classroom, with a monotone classmate poking along attempting to read, was a recipe for entering La-La Land.

Employed for a short stint in a grocery store as a stocker and cashier, it was an enjoyable experience during my early years, and many good memories came of it. There’s one section of a grocery store that I never worked, and having no patience, I’m glad I didn’t. That special section I’m referring to is the deli.

A little over a year ago, I was the next customer in line at a popular grocery store deli, waiting for one young gal in front of me to get through her long list. She was badgering the deli worker to speed things up, letting it be known that her friends were outside in the parking lot with their boat, ready to hit the lake.

The employee waiting on her was a young man, and he was sweating not only from heat coming from their brick oven, but unneeded pressure from this customer as well. Another female employee walked up to help, and after looking my direction, seeing another five or so folks patiently standing behind me, she politely asked, “What can I help you with?”

Just as I started to say a fried chicken breast, the rude person already being helped abruptly cut in, saying that perhaps things could be speeded up with two workers helping with her order. Thankfully, the somewhat stunned employee totally ignored this gal, taking my order.

I heard one person behind me say, “She better not wait on that impatient____!” You fill in the blank here, because it’s unprintable. I had to chuckle hearing that, yet I’m sure the person it was directed to wasn’t laughing, although she didn’t say anything in retaliation.

The other day, in a different grocery store deli, I ended up behind four people, two of them were an older couple, while another man and woman were both middle-aged. My legs were tired that morning, and within minutes, I wished I’d brought along a folding chair like I do at the beach.

These two seniors, around my age, weren’t exactly sure what they wanted. The husband asked for sample after sample of not only salads, but slices of turkey and ham as well. Quickly running out of patience, I wanted to speak up, asking the deli worker to just give him two slices of bread, so the poor guy could make a sandwich. Still having some couth, I held back, trying to remain patient. Eight minutes later, I sensed the unwavering deli employee was glad to see them go, because I definitely was.

Thinking that I was going to be out of there soon, this next fellow took the prize for most inconsiderate customer of the week. Ordering a pound of coleslaw, and after it was weighed and handed to him, the man elected at this time to see if he liked it. Asking the deli worker for a fork, he removed the plastic lid and took a bite. Deciding that he didn’t quite like the flavor, he then asked for a pound of another salad.

You’d think this fellow would’ve taken them both, but he didn’t. That pound of slaw was tossed in the trash on his behalf just because he no longer wanted it. If my eyes were lasers, this guy would’ve had holes burned through the back of his head. Once again, I believe the deli worker was more than happy when another irritating customer went down the road.

Next in line, was a polite and nice looking lady. She definitely had her act together, asking for a pound of meatballs, and after getting them, thanked the worker and moved on. It happened so fast that I couldn’t believe I was now at the front.

Ordering two pounds of fruit and nut rotisserie chicken, when the deli worker dished it into a container, and then placed things on the scale, it came out a perfect two pounds. She looked at me, mentioning with a smile that it was a good day for both of us to buy a lotto ticket, because her hitting the asked-for-weight, spot on, rarely happens.

Taking this woman’s advice, I did exactly that. If by chance my ticket is a winner, this deli employee is going to get a portion of the winnings because she deserves it. All of them do for that matter. Where having patience in dealing with problem people is concerned, deli workers are the cream of the crop!