I am definitely not against learning and I concede that I stray from the righteous path from time to time and need to be nudged in the right direction, but why oh why must it always be taught in a crowded space in an uncomfortable way? Maybe because my hardheadedness is measured in superhero proportions and the only way I will learn and pay attention is if the powers that be hit me over the head with a figurative sledgehammer? Yeah, that’s probably it.
So The gift of a teachable moment was bestowed upon me recently while out shopping at my local grocery store (I know, there seems to be a pattern here). Let me preface this little anecdote by stating that based on my background, career, and training, I am a zealot about situational awareness and daily preparedness for the unexpected. I preach it on a regular basis to friends, family, and my guys at work. My wife recently broke her ankle on the last day of our vacation and I have been carrying a bit of an extra workload around the home. There were several things we were running low on at the house so I decided to make a list and run to the store.
My first mistake was choosing the convenience of quality by going to the local not-to-be-named big box store. The parking lot was a literal sea of cars and people and I knew this was going to be a test of patience and humility. Oh, by the way, did I mention it was hotter than the 4th ring of hell and the humidity was so thick that it was laborious to draw the fetid heat into your lungs? Sorry, it was all of this and more! I get inside through the throng of masses seeming unaffected by the heat and happy to clog the arteries of the parking lot lanes with foot traffic and casual conversations with others and realize that inside is fairing no better than outside. I grab a cart and begin my quest for those precious necessities that we as a society seem to not be able to live without such as ice cream sandwiches, flavored coffee creamer(for my wife of course), and EZ Cheese. It was a battle of wills that resulted in creative maneuvering, speeding through treacherous barriers, and wading through the worst a commercial grocery conglomerate has to offer! At last, the list was completed and each item crossed through that I dared to breathe a sigh and murmur, “It is finished”. But was it really?
I round the corner to realize my trials and tribulations had just begun. As per apparent company policy, only three lanes are open for approximately 143,567 shoppers waiting to check out. Now if you follow me you may know that once I pick a line, that is it. I do not change lines for any reason whatsoever. It is against my nature and I know bad things will befall those who break this sacred rule that I invented! This rule makes me take pause and carefully study the scene before me to ensure I pick the “right” line. I do multiple, tedious, gargantuan computations in a matter of mere seconds to finally go “Eeny meeny miny moe!” to pick the right line. I saunter up to the line with the confidence of a man who has beaten the game of chance and slid into the perfect line. If this was the right line, I feel sorry for all of those who chose wrong because I was stuck in this line for 45 minutes behind a family of people completely oblivious to the social rules of personal space and apparently also deodorant.
Inch by inch, beep by beep, I was closer to the goal of escaping this prison of greed and gluttony to finally fly away to the confines of my personal fortress of solitude. The Smelly McGee family had beeped their final beep and was paying the tab to allow me the pleasure of unloading my overflowing buggy onto the conveyor belt of freedom! I was all to elated to engage the checkout engineer with the small talk associated to two strangers conducting a money transaction and look on with glee in my heart and ecstasy in my eyes as my precious necessities jerked forward to the scanner and tumbled like a beautiful ballerina into my waiting buggy. But wait! What is this dark, sickening feeling I begin to feel rise from the depths of my mortal soul? Why did I suddenly feel I was trapped in a quagmire of deceit and lies and that killer clowns would be emerging from the horizon? I instinctively reached for my right front pocket and my world tilted sharply and my vision blurred as I realized I DID NOT HAVE MY WALLET! My chest clenched and my mouth became as dry as the Sahara. It has literally been 15 or so years since I have left home without my wallet and this was a very stressful time to do so. I glanced over my shoulder to see the line behind me as deep as the ocean waiting for me to finish and move on. All eyes were upon me as I heard the beeps of my precious items being rung up for the inevitable reality of not being able to pay for them.
This couldn’t be happening to me! I am a good guy. I push my cart back up to the store. I hold the door open for others. Why? WHY? In my younger days, my first instinct would be an uncontrollable rage that would border upon psychopathy and cause the Hulk to blush. But that was the incomplete me, that was the unsatisfied me, that was a shadow of the man I have attempted to become. There would be no wailing or gnashing of teeth. I learned long ago that everything happens for a reason and disappointments, disasters, and trials must be met with humility, patience, and an always-open sense of awareness to learn was lesson needs to be learned. I calmly approached the cashier and sheepishly explained my situation. She looked at me like a bouncer looking at an under-aged kid trying to buy beer, sheer, unadulterated skepticism. It’s ok, I’ve been in her shoes. She then explained I could place all of the items back in my cart(in front of the peeved eyes of the masses of people I was holding up) and take the cart to customer service until I could drive home and get my wallet. I did as instructed and once my buggy was back full, I proceeded to make the walk-o’-shame from the register to customer service. I did so with my head held high, knowing I was not the man I used to be.
I jumped in my car and headed home to find my wallet exactly where it normally is perched upon its resting place. Knowingly looking at me like it was a co-conspirator in the day’s lesson. I drove back to the store and found out I would have to go back through another check out line. Really? Ok, no problem. Apparently, I needed some extra time to think about life, love, and to contemplate the meaning of it all. I took my place back in a line and waited again for my turn to pay for my goods and then I drove home. So, what is the lesson, you ask? Who knows. Sometimes it is extremely clear and others it remains a bit more elusive. Everything happens for a reason, but sometimes we just do not comprehend what the lessons are. It may have been to keep me from a head-on accident. I may be needed more time to mull over some ideas I have been tossing around. Maybe, I just needed reminding how easy my life is to be able to drive to an over-packed store, full of goods I don’t really need and pay for them without worrying if it is going to be my last meal for many days. I am exceedingly blessed and I never, ever want to take that for granted. People would sell their souls to experience what we consider a “bad” day in the first world realm. I did come up with several ideas about writing and life. For instance, I was inspired by a bumper sticker to write a post about listening to hear as opposed to listening for the answer we want and I had an idea about a restaurant that sold fried chicken skin. I never said they were GOOD ideas………
Thanks for taking the time to read and I hope we all take more time to be gracious for what we have not resentful for what we don’t!
Originally published on Steemit
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