Terror and Kindness in the Check-Out Line at Target

Grandmother Risks Virus for Pickles and Deva-Curl

by C.S. Gold

[Reader TMC (Too much possible contamination) alert. My challenges with shopping persuaded me to caution you to stay at home and order curb-side for food, or on-line or if you need masks, hair products and such, unless you have a suit from the CDC ].

Act I.

I’m glad to see the pleasant looking young woman disinfecting the checking card portal while I wait in line at a distance of six feet, as I was guided by the young man in a red apron. I’m next. But then — I notice the cashier is not wearing gloves.

My turn. She rings up the three items I came to the store for: oscillococcinum — a homeopathic remedy that is good for everything, Emergen-C (generic), Tazo Lemon Loaf tea boxes, plus the 54 items I had not expected to need including my last purchase, Deva Curl Styling Cream — so I can look good for myself.

“You don’t have any gloves?” I ask her, as the long line behind me waits. By now I’m a bit faint, from breathing through the yellow mask for three hours.

“They ran out of gloves,” she says, ringing up the napkins I bought to substitute for paper towels.

“What?” I ask, not sure I heard currectly through the mask, as I have hearing loss and left my hearing aids at home. “They ran out of gloves?!”

“They said they’d get a shipment in this week.” It was Saturday.

Act II.

Well, the cashier is not a nurse in the ICU. but still. “I’ll pray for your protection,” I tell her.

The cashier looks up at me with appreciation. I imagine she’s written her will on the bottom of a Target bag on her last break, with a returned, on-sale Sharpie.

I look at her name-tag. She is maybe 22, with straight, long hair, and her name is Alexus.

“I can wash my hands at breaks,” she explains. She is not complaining, accepting her lot in her young life — that could be in peril, as she calmly rings up the gift card for my grandson, and the “Cutie” tangerines that I’ve risked my life to get for my daughter’s fiancé.

“How often do you have breaks?” I ask, as she rings up the Grillo’s dill pickles and the warm air humidifier for my daughter’s sore throat. Surely, though the CDC hasn’t discovered it yet, pickles are good for sore throats. After all, vinegar is used to clean windows.

Act III.

Her answer doesn’t sound good. My response is true to my legacy as an intrepid New Yorker, and friendly Californian.

I shout to the other people in line six feet away from each other, ”DOES ANYONE HAVE AN EXTRA PAIR OF GLOVES?”

A masked African American woman 18 feet behind me in line calls out, “I have some.” She passes a pair of black gloves forward. I hand them to Alexus, who smiles for the first time, and thanks the lady and me as she slips on the gloves.

Act IV.

Out of the corner of my eyes, that are closing more from asphyxiation every minute, I notice a couple leaving the store with a huge bag of Mega Ultra Soft Charmin toilet paper. Wait — my sister in West L.A. is afraid she might run out. I use my megaphone voice to call to the couple who are hurrying out of the store, “Are there any more?”

“They’re all out of the big packs,” the woman calls back, barely visible behind the stacks she and the man are happily carrying out.

I ask Alexus, who is not like a daughter to me by now, but sort of, “Are there any more huge packs of Charmin in the store?” She bends below the cash register and rises, handing me a Mega-pack, nay a miracle. We probably should be thanking God. But we thank each other profusely. And, as the “Hokey Pokey” song goes, “That’s what it’s all about.”

. *. *. *. *.

* Hokey Pokey with Jack Hartmann YouTube

* Per an article from the Target Corporation, Target was beginning to provide masks and gloves for team members in stores and distribution centers shortly after this account, based on a true life story, was written.