47×365, No. 138 - Grocery Store Bagger
by Carolyn
You had to be in your late sixties, waiting by the register in your crisply ironed short-sleeved shirt and navy slacks, smelling faintly of Old Spice and shaving cream. You stood ramrod straight, a lifetime of experience behind you, bagging my groceries. I smiled to hide sympathy.
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reminds me of the clerk who got a pity cluck from a customer. he assured her that he did the job part time just for fun to meet with real people, not like his other job.
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