Conversations

Think Before You Speak: The One About The Cashier Kid And What Bob Taught Him

/ Ally Bean / 252 Comments

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I WAS SHOPPING IN our local Kroger, standing in line behind a chatty woman who was talking with our cashier, a kid about 18 y.o. He was tall, slim, and personable– plus efficient.

I liked him.

As he goes to hand this chatty woman her bag of groceries an older man who is also tall, slim, and personable, a customer on his way out of the store, shouts over to this cashier kid saying: “how ‘ya doing stupid?”

The customer does a little hand wave and smiles as he walks by.

Our cashier kid smiles, waves back, and says: “okay.”

The older man nods his head, keeps walking, and goes out the door.

I figure this older man is the cashier kid’s grandpa and don’t think anything more about it. They looked enough alike for that to be true.

But I was wrong.

Well, the chatty woman in front of me was NOT PLEASED by this brief conversation. She immediately begins to interrogate this cashier kid: “do you know that man?”

The cashier kid says: “he’s a customer here.”

“And he calls you STUPID?!!”

“Yes, but it’s okay he’s pretty nice, really.”  

The cashier kid starts to look frazzled, clearly not into this conversation, but the chatty woman won’t let it go, she NEEDS to know more so she presses this cashier kid: “You mean he’s a customer who talks to you like that and you’re alright with it? Did you tell your manager what he said? You don’t have to take verbal abuse.”

There’s a long awkward pause.

At this point I realize that the cashier kid is in over his head. This previously pleasant conversation with the chatty woman has taken a weird turn that has him tongue-tied, so I butt in and ask the obvious question saying: “WHY does that man call you stupid?”

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And with that THE STORY came out. A good one, totally understandable, one that just goes to show that a little bit of humor goes a long way toward making someone else feel comfortable in a trying situation.

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COME TO FIND OUT on the first day the cashier kid worked a register by himself he made a major mistake while ringing up this older man’s groceries. Instead of ringing up a $2.50 half loaf of bread, the cashier kid goofed, ringing it up for close to $30.00.

How did this happen, you might be wondering?

Well for some reason our cashier kid got flustered when he saw a half loaf of bread. His mom buys whole loaves, so this was new to him.

He thought it was a speciality item from the bakery and figured he had to do something manually, like you do when there’s a preordered sheet cake. So he input the code for sheet cake, weighed the bread like it was fresh produce [another thing he shouldn’t have done], and ended up with an expensive half loaf of bread.

He immediately realized he’d done something VERY WRONG so he called to the front end manager to come over to help, then as a way of explanation about what was going on he told this older man that: “I’m stupid.”

To which this older man, the customer, replied: “I’m Bob. Glad to meet ‘ya, Stupid.” 

Dad humor, obviously.

But the kind of humor that according to this cashier kid made him smile. In fact it was just what he needed to hear, realizing that Bob wasn’t upset, wasn’t going to yell at him. That everything was going to work out okay eventually.

And that’s how the cashier kid met Bob, the aforementioned waving customer in the first part of this story, who paid that day without any complaint about what happened. But on his way out Bob leaned over to tell this cashier kid that THE LESSON from this was to never tell anyone that you’re stupid.

Why?

Because they might remember something negative you say about yourself and use it against you in the future.

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A Crack In Everything: Talking With A Friend About Aging Gracefully + Announcing A Change To My Blog Schedule

/ Ally Bean / 251 Comments

A WHILE BACK I WAS TALKING with a Friend about a decision she needed to make. Not a huge one, but a smaller annoying one that comes down to deciding who she is comfortable being now.

Friend, much to her consternation, has to alter her way of thinking about something.

While the details of Friend’s decision are specific to her particular situation, there’s a bigger picture to contemplate, especially as you get older.  And a little bit cracked by life.

As we all do.

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HERE’S THE DEALIO: Friend is in her early 50s and has been running almost every day since she starred on her high school cross country team. As an adult she runs marathons, not ultramarathons or half marathons, but MARATHONS.

She’s very clear on this point.

Friend is known for, and is externally validated by, running marathons. She proudly & consistently defines herself as a marathoner, and up until this last year she’s ALWAYS been the fastest, or second fastest, in her age group.  She has ruled in every marathon she’s ever run, until now.

This does not please her.

Friend knows she’s getting slower, the numbers prove it, but she still wants to keep running because she likes to run. However from her point of view there’s a decision to be made, one that is more ego-based than anything else.

Should she:

A) Continue to run in marathons like she has her entire life while reluctantly accepting that there’s a good chance she’ll not be the best in her age group anymore which makes her sad?

OR

B) Start to run in half marathons, something she considers second-class to a *real* marathon, but wherein she believes she’d be the fastest in her age group which makes her happy?

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I’LL TELL YOU FRIEND’S DECISION in the comments below so that you, my little sparks of joy, can take a few seconds to contemplate how you’d handle a situation that involves your ego struggling with itself to gracefully accept the fact that you’re aging.

That is, are you more inclined to lean into doing the same thing as always, but in what you’d describe as a less successful way? Or are you more inclined to do something new that you consider inferior, but do it in a brilliant way?

To put this quandary in a more chit-chatty pithy way: do you keep on keeping on [focus on perseverance] OR do you accept that life’s tough and get a helmet [focus on modification]?

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PLEASE NOTE:

In order to allow more light to get into my life, The Spectacled Bean will be on SPRING/SUMMER HOURS until further notice.

I shall forget my perfect weekly offerings and instead post every couple of weeks, reply to comments here, and check-in with you on your blogs every so often.

Take it easy, everyone. Ring those bells!

Do good. Play nice. Be happy.

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The One About Multitasking, Machine Beeps, And Marital Bliss

/ Ally Bean / 190 Comments

“Monica, you’re all chaotic and twirly, but not in a good way.”

That’s a line from the TV show Friends. Zen-Den said it to me as he walked into the kitchen.

I was in the kitchen doing important things.

I’d just put some cornbread into the oven, chili was in the slow cooker, and on the counter was a new Lands’ End catalogue that I was leafing through looking for some spring-y clothes.

I had a Minwax color chart [36″ x 10″] spread across the kitchen table near the window waiting for the late afternoon sunshine to get over there so I could clearly see the three gazillion and two color choices. And the washer & dryer were doing their things in the laundry room adjacent to the kitchen.  Also I was keeping an eye on the dishwash that was almost finished with a load.

I WAS MULTI-TASKING, people.

Well before I could say a word back to Mr. Hilarmoose, the dishwasher started beeping: “I’m ready for you to unload me now.” The dryer started beeping: “Hurry, hurry, don’t let these clothes get wrinkled.” And the washing machine finished its dramatic last spin beeping its end of cycle announcment: “now. Now. NOW.”

Plus for good measure the slow cooker, a bit of a hussy, chimed in with a slow seductive beep to tell me: “I’m finished cooking now and will be over here keeping dinner warm.” 

“You look busy,” said Mr. Obvious.

“Yes. You could help,” said I as I opened the dishwasher door to let the steam out while dashing past him stopping momentarily to reposition the color chart into the sunshine on my way to rescue the clothes from the dryer.

“Pretty please with sugar on top,” I added because I’m a polite woman* who by then was struggling with the wet towels in the washing machine that didn’t want to go into the dryer without a fight.

SO WHAT DID HE DO? In what way did he help?

With a devilish smile and an ornery gleam in his eye he picked up the catalogue on the counter, moseyed over to the kitchen table where the light was better and said, “you’d look good in the light blue t-shirt.”

Which is true, but really? That’s helping?

And with that commentary, my friends, I’ll leave this tale of marital bliss– or what passes for it around here.

HONESTLY…

Any of this sound familiar to you?!! 🤨

* I’m baffled by something. If you’re on a Keto diet and have given up on sugar do you say: pretty please with bacon on top? Or butter on top? Or suet  on top?  How do you rework that polite phrase so it has meaning for you?

If The Name Fits: An Absurd Conversation With An Amusing Friend

/ Ally Bean / 263 Comments

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“Oh, you got to have friends, the feeling’s oh so strong….” 🎶

A friend who I shall call Wendy was telling me about something someone had said to her that had irked her. This wasn’t a case of trash talking but she felt she’d been dissed.

The someone had told Wendy that because she was the matriarch of her family, Wendy should keep her adult children in line– and that she hadn’t been doing that.

The comment was meant to be a criticism of Wendy’s mothering skills and how her adult children lived their lives.

The person saying it to Wendy was a someone who Wendy described as a snob, a social climber, a fraud. She didn’t usually pay attention to this someone’s opinions, but in this instance Wendy was peeved.

This someone had got her goat.

I figured that Wendy had taken offense at the idea she was failing as a mother because she allowed her adult children to be who they are, but I was wrong.

That was not the case.

Nope, Wendy had no problem with a criticism leveled at her parenting skills, she didn’t care about that. What bothered Wendy was that she’d been called a Matriarch, a name she found insulting because to her it meant she was old. It was in her mind an example of agism.

[Even though Wendy is the matriarch of her family, but let’s not get stuck on reality here.]

Looking for a way to put this perceived slight into perspective, I suggested that being called a Matriarch is better than being called a Crone, an ugly old woman. That’s a word I find derogatory and Wendy agreed.

She wasn’t a Crone.

Continuing on with the idea that there are worse names to be called than Matriarch, I suggested that at least this someone hadn’t called Wendy a Sea Hag, an old witch who lives near the sea. To me that seemed more demeaning than being thought of as the head of a family with the power to influence family members.

But you know what?

Wendy liked the idea of being called a Sea Hag. She said she enjoyed walking on the beach by the ocean so the thought of being a Sea Hag made her happy. She could easily accept that name because it was more in tune with who she is.

And with that admission I said the only thing I could think to say. I said three important words that keep friendships alive, I said: I believe you.

Because I do.

Questions Of The Day

Putting aside any concerns you might have about gendered language, would you take offense if someone called you the Matriarch or Patriarch of your family? Why or why not?

Thinking of all the names, positive or negative or neutral,  you’ve been called in your life, how much do you care about the way in which someone else refers to you?

Do you feel, like I do, that friends who are able to not take themselves too seriously are put on this earth to keep you laughing with them… at yourself… at life in general?

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