When the last of her kids was in high school, Mom decided she was going to get a job. For years she was a faithful shopper at Walt’s Food Center. You can’t beat Walt’s meat! She knew everyone who worked there including the manager of customer service, and so she filled out an application after a thirty year plus absence from the work force and Phyllis hired her to be a bagger.
She worked a few days a week and always had a good story to tell about her day. One time, the employees were asked to remind customers not to leave their purses in their cart unattended as there had been some thefts in the store. Some woman told Mom not to worry because the Blessed Mother would watch over it and Mom said, “I’ll be darned. I thought she was too busy for that sort of thing.” She was often chastised by the old ladies to not pack their bags too heavy and she said, “I always wanted to tell those old bats that I was lifting those bags into carts all day long and I’d have to be an idiot to pack them heavy.”
Despite that, she loved working there and these many years since she still sees her Walt’s friends once in awhile.
Because of that experience, she has always told me that I should work in a grocery store. You’ll never be bored, she says. I know, Mom, but I don’t think it’s for me. You should try it. That’s o.k. Mom. When I was looking for a job she’d tell me to check out the grocery store. Just until something else comes along, but you’ll probably like it so much you’ll never leave. O.k., Mom, I’ll think about it. Then she’d call and ask if I decided to apply at the grocery store. Not yet, Mom.
This fall, Will was in need of employment at school and applied at the grocery store. He was hired and works one shift a week as a bagger and on the weekends demonstrating food. I know. It cracks me up.
He loves it. He loves his fellow employees. He loves the customers. He loves cooking up some tilapia in an electric fryer and serving it to shoppers. He loves when they pile some in their cart. He loves helping himself to the veggies in the produce department and making some concoction that will move those mushrooms out the door.
I have kept Mom up-to-date on her grocery store employed grandson and she couldn’t be happier. I thought it would be enough, but is it ever when it’s your mom?
“Kath, get yourself an application the next time you go to the store. Fill it out. Tell them your mother worked at a grocery store.”
So I’ve heard, Mom. So I’ve heard.