PopcornJackTerry

I’ve started to embrace certain aspects of the slowly encroaching maturity that has come like a remora attached to me turning 40 last year. One thing I’ve begun to do is comparative shopping for my groceries. The Publix and Winn-Dixie are within a block of each other, so I make a list of what I need with space for me to write down the prices at each place. I start at the W-D, write down all the prices, and then go to the Publix and do the same. Anything cheaper there I purchase, ride my bike home, unload my groceries, and then return to the Winn-Dixie to pick up the rest. It really doesn’t take too much longer, and I end up saving a few dollars. (I haven’t yet started clipping coupons though. I’m saving that for when I turn 50.)

I tell myself that there are additional benefits to doing this besides the money I save. The extra bike riding is good to help me get in better shape. Of course, if I wanted to take full advantage of that I would ride out to the Publix first-it’s the one that’s farther away-and check those prices first before the Winn-Dixie, so that when I went back for the second round of groceries I’d have to ride that much further. However, I’m just trying to lose a few pounds and not train for an Ironman Triathlon, so I’ll keep it the way it is. Another bonus is that splitting the shopping between two stores makes it easier to fit everything in my bike baskets. I almost nailed it perfectly today-everything fit except the second roll of paper towels that I bought. (The nice thing about having all that grocery weight on the back of the bike makes it that much easier to pop a wheelie.)

Today started no differently. I had my list, I was all set. Problem was, the pockets on my shorts weren’t very deep, so somewhere between here and the Winn-Dixie the little notebook that I use had slipped out onto the road. Didn’t notice this until I had locked up my bike. Now it was a short list and, although I was sure I’d remember everything on it (I did) there was no way I’d remember two sets of prices. I simply had to accept that my shopping was going to be done here and not think about how much I might not save.

Everything was going fine until I got to the laundry detergent aisle. To me, one brand is no different than another, so I base my purchase on what is the cheapest. To figure this out involves a lot of back and forth between various brands, trying to determine size of the bottle, cost per ounce, and which sale price is most effective. Problem is doing that looks a lot like I’m horribly indecisive, almost paralyzed by the myriad of options. I’m guessing that’s what caused the guy who was also on the aisle to point out the Gain and say “This here is the best.”

I said something like “Cool, thanks” and figured he’d be on his way, but then he pointed out some new Downy fabric soften that he used and started raving about how great it made his clothes smell and that he didn’t even need to use cologne anymore. He even encouraged me to open the cap and smell it. (It did smell good.) And then it dawned on him that they didn’t use Gain anymore, but instead had switched to a new product from Tide that is basically a compressed ball of detergent that you throw in with the wash that has revolutionized how he and his woman-his word, not mine- did their laundry.

Keep in mind this is not taking just a few seconds, something he just said to me over his shoulder as he went on about his shopping. He took the time to walk up and down the aisle with me, looking for the specific Tide product. He easily could have pointed out a similar one that we found and said “It’s just like that”, but instead wanted to be sure I saw the right on. And the pride that is felt in his house about their new found laundry products seemed pretty real, because at one point a female voice called over from the next aisle looking for him, and when he responded that he was helping a gentleman-once again, his words, not mine-pick out detergent, she showed right up and told me how much she loved it. (She also said to be sure not to overload the washer, or it won’t work so well, and that she uses two of them when she does her bedding and towels.)

I’m not really one to approach strangers. Maybe it’s because most of my work day involves talking to strangers already, and maybe it’s because I still struggle with the whole “Why would these people want to talk to me anyway?” And I’m sure there are people out there who would have found this couple pushy and nosy, maybe even thinking that they were somehow connected with these specific products and trying to make a sale. (To be fair, after that couple left and I was still standing in that aisle, undecided about purchasing the Tide, another woman walked by and told me what a great product it was and how much she loved it. Not gonna lie, I did start looking for a hidden camera.) But I couldn’t help but be strangely reassured that there are people like that out there still.

This guy doesn’t know me from Adam. I don’t think he really cares what kind of laundry detergent I buy. (I ended up buying both, mostly because I needed laundry detergent but partially because I was sure that if i didn’t I would run into him at the checkout.) And I don’t think he’s even gonna remember, or at least think about, me at the end of the day. Because to him, he didn’t do anything special or different. He did what he did because that’s the type of person he is. He’s just a genuine, honestly friendly guy. And I think about the fact that if I had been there with my little notebook, furiously jotting down prices and products, I might have missed him. Worse, I probably would have dismissed him. “Thanks, buddy, but I’m just doing research.” (Who the hell does research on laundry detergent anyway, other than Consumer Reports?) Because of a fortuitous accident I got the chance to be open to a new experience and, more importantly in a society filled that seems hell bent on being divisive and wary, sure that more likely than not the other person is out to get us, I had a few moments in the middle of my day to meet a couple of complete strangers and see the happiness and positivity they lead their lives with, and I was happy to let that rub off on me a little, to reaffirm my faith that there is a better way to live, that it is possible to believe in a positive world and in the goodness that is out. It doesn’t matter in the end if the detergent and fabric softener I bought are any better than what I normally use, or even that when I got home I realized that I still have about 50 dryer sheets and won’t use the Downy until sometime deep in 2013. What matters is that every time I do my laundry from now on, I’m gonna think of that guy and his woman and smile.

And the cherry on this sundae? I found the notebook on the sidewalk as I rode home.