I set down my green basket with the thin steel handles on the floor, parking myself in a non-express line on the far left of the supermarket. Two customers before me had rolling carts filled to the brim. The young woman with a cart behind me laughed, asking if I wouldn't do better on the express line. The express lines were long and snakelike, now winding around the magazine racks. The narrow air pockets between express customers pulsed with tension.
Feeling natural for the first time in 30 years, I took a deep breath and let the truth roll out. "I was listening to the John Tesh radio show, and he said not to look at carts but at how many people are on the line -- checkout times and so on."
The young woman got it, still laughing.
The older woman in front of me smiled, too. I was happy. This was a good place to be.
Twenty minutes later, I was still standing in the same spot due to an unforeseen coupon problem of the lady before me. My neighbor behind me made conversation with her cellphone. My neighbor in front of me tossed an extra smile or two over her shoulder. The cashier, despite having to call out “Key! Key!” at least four times, was a calm, competent girl. Moreover, she looked like my niece.
“Well, Mr. Tesh,” I thought to myself, “time isn't everything.”
Who could wish for more?
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