Checking Out

Things seem to happen to me in supermarket check-out lines. Late last summer I had that unfortunate incident when I hit the Espanol button on the self-service register and tried to pretend I was Spanish to save face in front of an attractive woman. I am frequently struck dumb by the headlines of the various scandal sheets on display. The person in front of me invariably runs afoul of the ritual, and prices must be checked, items returned to the shelves, and alternative payment methods sought. I won’t even mention the time I stepped in someone else’s spilled juice and wound up supine on the floor.

Recently, however, I had an experience which disturbed me profoundly. The lady in front of me was obviously a recent immigrant, probably from Vietnam. She spoke little English. As her items were bring scanned, she drew from her purse some coupons (food stamps) from the Department of Agriculture. Seeing the coupons, the clerk stopped scanning the items. He held up a can of crabmeat.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly and not unkindly. “This is considered a luxury item, and can’t be paid for with food stamps.”

The woman didn’t understand.

“You could buy tuna, instead,” he offered, “but only the chunk light tuna.”

The woman understood just enough to be embarrassed. The clerk, a kind young man doing an unpleasant job, was equally ill-at-ease. He picked up the children’s cereal she was purchasing.

“And this cereal, too,” he had to say. “It has fruit and nuts in it. You can only buy flakes.”

She now understood enough to feel the humiliation. She quickly gathered up the allowed items, took her change, and fled. The clerk placed the “luxury” items under the counter, and grimly scanned my order. As he finished, I told him I’d like to buy the items he’d just set aside. He looked at me hopefully, understanding my purpose.

But I couldn’t find her. She was gone. I took the crabmeat and cereal back into the store and placed them on the food pantry shelf. Some Vietnamese children would go without cereal the next morning, but somewhere in Washington, some small-minded mean-spiried rule-making bureaucrats had saved a buck for the United States of America.

I hope they are pleased with themselves.