Saved by a Checker

Let me tell you about the world’s greatest checker. I mean the person who checks you out at the supermarket. This guy is phenomenal, different from all others. He does his job like a ballerina. His voice is soft and friendly but still manly, happiness. His checking you out is like a performance, but genuine, and creative. He tells you what is happening, like you are on a tour and his check-out is a tourist attraction.

“Your total for today is $146.72 and you saved $11.50 which to me is amazing,” he says, while handing me my receipt from the tabulator.

Then, “I commend you for bringing your own bags.”

“I try,” I respond.

Of course, I know his name only because he wears a name tag, like all of the checkers. If it really is his name. He could know my name because it is on my credit card.

He is unusually handsome, mahogany skin, large attentive eyes, hair that is wavy, tied back, dark brown and streaked with red.

His name is printed on his "Price Chopper" nametag: Messiah.

You think I made this up.

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