Addressing the Checkout Assistant That Made Me Totally Speechless – My Hat's Off to You
This occurred on a Sunday morning, and I felt sufficiently irritable, refueling my mother's vehicle. This was a typical gas station that also functions as a convenience store, which often leads of ending up in line people bearing baskets of pricey provisions. It's an awful situation to happen when your only desire is to get gasoline and leave. Terrible.
My position was fourth in the waiting line. Just one employee working, a youthful clerk. There was something unusual to her presence. Once the slowpoke at the front of the queue had finally paid for a cleaning product, his pastry, and his box of eggs, I was certain I heard the cashier tell him a wonderful day. Odd. Maybe it was a mistake, or maybe she did say it and used a mocking tone. I wondered if perhaps she was an ally in my battle with dithering, echoing my disdain for those who delay people just getting gas such as myself.
Taking a step forward, now third in line. The new leader of our group finished pumping gas with impressive quickness. Again, the phrase came: “Have a wonderful day.” No, actually, it was “have a wonderful day”. An American? In Stourbridge? She had the accent, and hardly anyone here says to others a wonderful day, or even just a nice day. Quite out of place. You don’t get many Americans frequenting this area, and definitely not employed at gas stations or elsewhere.
Second in line at last. Behind a poor older woman engaged in a lengthy struggle with her shopping cart, her purchases, her handbag and her membership pass. The process dragged on. When she was done, the woman also got told to have a fantastic day. Clearly an American. Confirming it was possible by cracking a joke in her direction, to observe that response when they look at you, stoically, and state very earnestly: “You are very amusing.” But I couldn’t think of a funny comment to say.
In the end, I embraced the genuine warmth – or a mimicry of sincerity, that equates to the same thing – as she gazed me right in the eye, piercingly, and told me a wonderful day. I felt better for it. Beneficial indeed.
