Target. On a weekend. Even the self checkout stations had a long queue.
Glancing back to where I stood in the regular line, I noticed that the customer in front of me had unloaded her shopping cart items onto the conveyor belt and then abandoned said cart. Directly in the path of customers still awaiting checkout. Of which I was numero uno.
I looked at her now abandoned cart, seeing its great potential at leading a double life as a pedestrian roadblock. I looked back at the customer who paid me no mind, engaged as she was in conversation with the cashier. So I made a choice. I had hands, and I knew what I was about to do wouldn't negatively affect anyone around me. And so, setting peace as the intention, I chose to get out of line and push the cart a ways away to where it couldn't even entertain a short stint as a human speed bump.
Then I got back in line behind the customer just as the cashier was telling her about available bargains, if she were so inclined, on one of her purchases.
The customer never noticed that her shopping cart had been moved. But I did notice feeling a little better.
As she was finishing with that transaction, the cashier looked up at me, and made eye contact. Then treating me to a warm smile, said, "Hello!"
Instinctively, I found myself meeting her in that warm energetic space with a, "Hi!" of my own. That's when I realized I was interacting with a very present, making-the-best-of-it-in-this-our-given-circumstances young lady.
Perhaps it's because I'm a Supervisor in a Customer Service position, but during any outside of work customer service interaction, I'm always so appreciative of those who are not only doing the work but are also choosing to be present and engaging. I get that it can be hard and, in the case of cashiers, they're on their feet for their entire shift and interacting with all manner of energies. But when one chooses to be present, chooses to defeat the temptation called, autopilot, I have found it makes it easier to make peace with how long the race to the front of the line feels.
As if reading my mind, she then asked, "Did you have to wait a long time?"
"It was long-- well it felt long, but-- it was okay."
And then, with unexpected empathy, she replied, "I'm really sorry about that."
"That's okay," I heard myself say. "In fact," I added, "What helps is you smiled, connected and said hello."
"I wish more people reacted that way," she said, almost wistfully. She was still smiling, as she turned off her cashier light to signal she was close to the end of her shift.
Then after letting the customer behind me know she would be her last one, she continued. "I've had people get upset or not respond or threaten that they would be contacting corporate because they've been waiting in line for a long time. They see these empty registers and they don't realize they're not working. Trust me, if I could make them all work, I would!"
"Well, again," I automatically found myself saying, "I know I appreciate the fact that you chose to connect with me."
I had learned something new. The idea that there were registers that didn't work had never crossed my mind before. In the past, anytime I had found myself wondering which of the long lines I would join, 9 times out of 10, i thought that the reasons they were so long was because Target had cut down on its employees.
"I saw you getting out of line earlier and thought you were leaving," she said as I finished paying and was retrieving my debit card from the chip reader.
"Ha. Yeah. No. The lady ahead of me left her shopping cart and I needed to move it to activate my peace of mind."
We laughed.
And with that, we were at the end of the interaction. She wished me a good day. I thanked her for her help and left Target thinking how lovely that interaction was.
I didn't get her name but I know I'll recognize her when next I see her.