By The Gong Guru, Matt Omo
I was waiting in line at Coles wondering why the cashier would wear such a low cut top, when I was snapped out of my cleavage-gazing-day-dream by a woman using the conveyer belt divider to squish my food as tightly as possible to the front of the belt.
She was trying to squeeze her 15 kilo bag of kitty litter, 15 strategically balanced cans of cat food, and two blocks of chocolate on the belt as well. She kept fidgeting and sighing as if the world was going to end… maybe her cat was starving to death or had a bad case of diarrhoea.. who knows. Lucky for me, however, I was in a jovial mood, so I turned to her and asked her if she was okay. She smiled and nodded with her arms crossed.
When I turned back to Lindsay low-cut cashier, she was having some price check issues… or something.
Then, as if my enquiry to the Cat Lady made us best friends, Cat Lady began to ramble, “I can’t believe this. What does it take to get competent service around here. I should have gone to Woolies. At least there I can get through the check out quickly. Don’t they have the self check out open?”… and on she went.
It seems Coles could hear her because within seconds, Marty Manager zipped in with his well pressed shirt and double windsor knot tie to open a second register next to us. Cat Lady quickly shuffled her cat food and chocolate to the other register.
Whether it was karma, the woman’s haste, or Marty Manager’s dry hands, MM was having trouble opening the second plastic bag to pack all her cat food in, so she insisted he stuff everything in one bag because she was sick of waiting. (I wonder if her chocolate tasted like cat food?)
Before she could swipe her card. I was checking out Linsday low-cut… I mean I was getting checked out by Lindsay low-cut… LOL! Let’s just say, I was checking out! Cat Lady swooped by me as I picked up my bags and I watched as she pumped her arms to maintain a brisk pace obviously to make up for lost time.
We all know those bloody plastic Coles bags can’t hardly hold a package of rice cakes, let alone a few kilos of cat food and, sure enough, the bag split and the cat food cans scattered across the floor like cockroaches in the light. I helped her pick up her belongings and this time double bagged them.
Amongst her four letter words, I think she thanked me when she swiped the last can from my hand and said, “Thanks, I’ve only got two minutes before my yoga class starts!”
As I watched her storm off toward the gym, I thought, what’s the point to racing to yoga – a parctice designed to create balance, harmony and well-being in life – when your definitely not using the wisdom in your everyday life. Well, at least not at Coles.
Perhaps she always misses yoga and therefore never gained the wisdom to use at Coles? Or maybe her cat really did have diarrhoea? Or perhaps she desperately needed the magnesium from the chocolate to balance her hormones before yoga?
I continued to ponder the cause of this woman’s haste as I glanced at my phone to realise I was late for my meditation class. With a gasp I jogged down to the car, sped to centre, cursing at the slow drivers failing to signal a right turn across traffic and smiled as I became… THE CAT LADY. Doh!
Question: Where does the Cat Lady raise her ugly head in your life?
When and where will we meet again?
Tomorrow? Fresh soul for your hole here online daily ~ A Grand Love Story
Tonight? In person at the Soul Choir sing along? ~ More info here
Any time day or night? Soul Sessions Facebook page