"Am I invisible"?

I talked with my sister, Deb, tonight. Her dear husband now has shingles, like Alan has had since last June, only he's just starting with them. They hurt, folks, no two ways about it. But, once again, I digress.

Let's see. Oh, yes. I was talking with my sister Deb who had just gotten off the phone with my brother, Mark. Are you with me so far? Mark and Deb were talking about the BLOG and Deb reminded me of something -- well a couple of things. And I'll lead into one of them.

Tonight, my husband and I were watching the Redskins/Seahawks playoff game on TV. I was for the 'skins. When I walked in the room, the Redskins did horrible. When I left the room, the didn't do well, but at least it wasn't horrible. In fact, they were ahead before I walked in the room to watch the game. So what, you ask? Well, my brother reminded my sister that whenever he was watching baseball, and my mother walked into the living room, the Phillies would do something really bad, like strike out, commit an error, or the pitcher would throw a wild pitch; something like that which would cause the Phillies to crash and burn. He got to the point where he would tell mom not to come into the room when the game was on TV because no matter what the Phillies would do terrible. Or let her in the room when the opposing team was up to bat. Unfortunately her whammy didn't affect the opposing team.

Now, that has nothing to do with invisibility, does it? Well, it's the same principle. When I get in a line at the grocery store, not matter how short, something happens and it becomes the longest, slowest line in the checkout section. I should carry a sign that says, "Get behind me and be prepared to wait a long time." It never fails. If I use the "check yourself out" place, the computer malfunctions -- I've given up on doing that ever again.

Well, back in the old days when there was only one check out line, but where if you wanted something in the store there was usually a clerk who would help you. My dear mother, would go to the meat counter. She would be first in a line of people crowding up to the case and oh, no, the clerk would ask someone else what they wanted. And, folks, this was a common occurrence.

I remember at the A&P one time, she was checking out, and the bagger walked away -- happens to me all the time, so I just decide that I will do it myself, and then if there is a bagger, well, good for me. But anyway, that had happened many times. And one day, it was hot, she was bothered, and finally, my dear, sweet, loving mother said, loud enough for most people in the front of the store to hear, "What am I, invisible?" The cashier looked at her perplexed. I told the cashier -- "My mom has been shopping here since Leap's closed, which was shortly after you big guys opened. And every time I've been with her, the bagger walks off. So, she wants to know if she's invisible." You see no bagger, it took longer to get checked out. Mom didn't like bagging herself.

I was a cashier at Shop Rite in South Jersey in the early 60s, and I learned to be very grateful for anyone who would help with the bagging, including customers who wanted to get moving out of the store more quickly. So, when I started doing my own grocery shopping, I just always "took the position" of bagger and would bag my own groceries. I still do that. No bagger? So what. I'd rather do it myself anyway. That way, when I get home I can get a bag and not have to dig through several to find all the refrigerated items, or all the canned goods, or all the bread. Get my drift? It makes life simpler for me, and it helps the cashier.

So, it doesn't matter if I'm invisible, but it sure did matter to my mother.