So true, how you always seem to choose
The slowest register line in the grocery store
(It even applies now to self-checkout at Costco)
I see the slightly built elderly lady, frail
Her hair the bluish tint that substitutes
For gray with those who still wish some color
While she digs for the exact change
Most of us waiting are less patient
Than the elderly cashier who understands
Like my mother, this woman must believe in
Cash only for groceries, never credit cards
“Do you want to pay for them forever?”
I look into my cart, wonder how much
That can of spam will eventually cost
Because blissfully retired
I can no longer pay off my credit card bills
Each month, the way I did, when I was
Still gainfully employed
The young woman in front of me
Sighs a dramatic sign of exasperation
Tosses her head and turns to me
Arching her brows and rolling her eyes
Toward the old woman, I know she wants me
To acknowledge frustration with her slow speed
But I smile, shrug my shoulders slightly
Nod and say, “That could be my mother or yours,”
To which she gives me a sneer that time may erase
Lanning Lee 