Here in Brooklyn we're going through temperatures cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey, ( A wee snack for the gutter-minded, there). To us that's the perfect time to hunker down at home with a fondue and a nice bottle of wine.
So, as is my wont, I stopped off at a local Supermarket on my way home from work to pick up supplies. This market is a good one. It's always well-stocked, it's clean and the people working there are always friendly and helpful.
The store doesn't play music or make taped announcements. Still, for some reason, the place is oddly noisy. It's especially loud at the registers near the self-checkout. I don't know how the cashiers stand it on a good day.
Today wasn't a good day. The check-out lane I went through was right by the doors and the young lady at the register wasn't dressed warmly enough. Every time the door opened she got a blast of below freezing wind on the back of her neck. She wasn't in a cheery mood. The transaction went well until she gave me my change and I said,
"Thank you and Good Night".
She got that deer in the headlights look. She leaned toward me and with a slightly panicked tone asked, "What did you say?"
I repeated, "Thank you and Good Night".
She visibly relaxed.
That poor young woman! She must have had a horrible day. She looked a little young to go home and have a stiff drink but I hope she was able to have a nice cup of hot chocolate and a long bubble bath.