I was running late for the grief group I help lead at my church. My legs and hips ached from the 8 mile run I had just completed. My complete lack of brain function had just forced me to loop from the Stop N Shop parking lot to my parents' house and back because I had forgotten my purse. At least I was quick to find the cookies I needed and then the only line that wasn't backed up to the aisles.
The woman in front of me and her daughter were moving along quickly,which was good for my stress level. I like when people know what they are doing in a checkout line. With the minor exception of waiting a bit too long to swipe her credit card, this mama had it together.
Then, it happened. I noticed the young man who would be my cashier. I looked at his hair and his face and his build and I saw one of the many photos of teenage Joe. I did a double take and he even had a birthmark on his cheek, just like Joe. It was un-freaking-canny. And then he spoke, interacting with a co-worker who was taking his re-shop (is that what they call it in a grocery store?! My only retail jobs have been in toys.) Anyway, his voice and mannerisms - Joe again.
By this point he was ringing up my items and somehow I managed to let him know I didn't need a bag. While I was swiping my card I glanced at his name badge.
My aching legs and hips no longer relevant, I couldn't get back to my car fast enough.
My apologies to the lady I almost ran over on my way out the door, but I really needed some privacy within which to cry. And cry. And cry.
Oh Anne, I know just what you mean. It happens to me all of the time.ReplyDelete
How additionally hard, though, to meet another who really is a Joe.
A most difficult time right now for sure.