Guilt Trip in Publix

One of the things that bothers me when I am in Florida is the contrast between the haves and the have-nots.  Along the beach in the condos, the residents clearly do not want for much in the way of material things.  These are the ladies that stroll the aisles of Harris Teeter and Publix finely dressed and not in any hurry.  Their hair and nails are well cared for.  They have probably been to the spa for a massage recently.  Many of the male shoppers appear tanned and fit for their age.  They are retired and able to live well.  Some of them pack their groceries into hot little convertibles with the tops down.

At the check-out counter are clerks and baggers who should be retired, but who apparently cannot afford to be.  I would think if they were working to stave off boredom, they would choose a different type of employment.  They are unfailingly polite and gracious, but I wonder if any resentment burns underneath the façade.

Today the gentleman who bagged my groceries was wobbly just moving the twelve inches from the end of the counter to my cart.  He was wrinkled, stooped and gray.  He was also slow.  The check-out clerk helped him finish bagging, because he couldn’t keep up.

When he had placed the last bag in my cart, he looked up, smiled and said, “Help you to your car?”

I wanted to cry.  I wondered whether he could actually make it to my car!

I assured him, I could manage by myself and returned his smile.

I wondered if he was hoping I would say ‘no.’  He seemed so frail.  I tried to guess his age, but the ravages of old age seem to happen so unevenly.  Was he 10 years older than me?  That would make him in his early 80s, but he could still be in his 70s…not that much older than I am.

As usual, I have lots of questions and few answers.  But, it did make me feel privileged because I can choose whether or not I work, grateful for good health, and a bit guilty for enjoying blessings I don’t deserve.