Requiem for the Box Boy

I'm not that old, but somehow not only did I lose track of where the regular coffee flavored coffee went (thanks Dennis Leary) , I also lost track of the grocery bagger, the box boy.

I remember the days when the bag boy ruled. This were wizards of the Supermarket. With speed and precision, they would have 7 or 8 bags of groceries in bags and inside the shopping cart. Bread and eggs were always on top, and canned goods were always on the bottom. They had to quickly flash open the paper bags, they had no need for any of the metal contraptions that hold these environmentally friendly plastic bags. If offered, they would surely have refused them.

Enter the so called Modern Age. We can now send messages, data and pictures in an instant. Most of us carry cell phones which connect us to people news and information at a glance. We have a recoverable space craft that we can launch, recover and launch again. We have even send a remote control car to Mars (although we have not bridged the gap between a recording that can tell us that we don't need to dial, "1", but can't simply put the call through - but that is a rant for a different time).

I have two Safeways Supermarkets in my neighborhood, and it doesn't matter which one I go to it is always the same routine. I always get asked if I need help out to my car - never mind that I don't walk with a limp, didn't come in with a walker, just by looking at me, you would be able with complete certainty, to determine I needed no help moving my groceries from a cart to my automobile. I still get asked.

The one that gets me, is that I always end up bagging my groceries in order to speed things along. It seems that in line with corporate America, Safeway has determined that the checker can also bag, thus cutting that work team in half. The trouble with that philosophy is it doesn't work and since I'm really doing nothing during the checking process, I feel compelled to take up the slack and bag the groceries. Moreover, I see other people's groceries getting bagged by some youth, why am I different (besides being better looking ;)?

At the end of the day, I feel like my complaining is about expected service from a bygone era. For the average reader it must feel like listening to one of my Dad's stories about being fired while working at a service station (yes kids, gas stations once filled cars with gas AND fixed broken cars and left buying hot dogs for the ballpark). He was fired for not running out fast enough to assist a motorist who had pulled in.

The times have a-changed.

Long Live the Bag Boy!!!