Out There: Can I help you with anything? Yes!

Our grocery stores are breaking up with us. We didn’t even see it coming. It has been a long, slow process.

They’ve been pushing us away for years and every time they hurt us, we keep going back. It’s partly emotional and partly a fear of where I will get cheese. Mostly a fear of where I will get cheese.



Whatever. I just can’t stay away. I’m old — like, not old-old, but old.

And I remember even in my lifetime going through the grocery checkout and the person who put the groceries in the bags for you would then follow you out and place them in your car. I also recall a system where groceries were loaded into big, numbered bins and sent on rollers to a loading zone. You got a plastic tag to match your bins.

Then you drove your car around, handed over your tags and someone would place your groceries in your car. They really loved us, and it showed. Then, for no reason, our relationship turned chilly.

Did we do something? Did we say something? They stopped carrying our bags out, then the baggers at the end of the checkout line just ...

disappeared. The checkout people did double duty. They rang us through AND they bagged our groceries.

Then they just ...

stopped. Nobody ever told me why. We just accepted it.

I should have left then. Instead, when stores started pushing us to not only bag our own stuff but scan it too, I went along with it. The self-checkouts did away with personal contact — unless you’re like me and keep screwing up, so the red light comes on and the one clerk in charge has to come over and punch in a code to fix it.

Now I’ve gone back to the human checkouts. But the humans have become distant. They won’t make eye contact.

They look down, ring in the items and send them along to the end of the belt. Their work is done. They leave all the bagging to us — if we bring our own bags, that is.

If we don’t, then too bad. It’s not so much “bagging” our own groceries as shlepping our own groceries. On my most recent trip, I was vigorously multitasking, trying to pack bags while scanning points cards and paying, putting the bags in my cart and stress sweating.

And the clerk stood there. Just stood. Eyes down.

It’s almost like they didn’t even care about me. I’ve even watched people older and frailer than me try to load heavy items into their carts with no help and no concern from the checkout person. I’m quite introverted and I never thought I’d long for human contact at a store, but I’ve been feeling so neglected that I was thrilled on a recent visit to a men’s clothing store when four different people offered to help me try on pants.

And three of them actually worked there! I wonder who that other guy was ...

I used to get tired of saying, “No, no, just looking.” Now, I love the attention. I tried on eight different pairs of pants that day and picked two that I really liked — and that the guy who didn’t work there really liked too.

I still don’t know who that was. I was so happy with the pants that I asked about shirts. The clerk eyeballed my size.

“Probably, what, a 2XL?” he asked. Hey! Easy there, buddy. I overlooked his crazy overestimation of my size.

I thoroughly enjoyed the clothing store. If only I could shop there for chinos, quarter zips and a brick of old cheddar..