Sean
Sean runs a checkout lane at the Dominick’s down the street. Sure, he’s got some issues, but he’s bright enough to scan and bag and make change. Sean cracks jokes, too. Here’s one he told me: “Your change is seven eleven… but don’t go there! Get it?” It took me a moment (I’ve got issues of my own), but then, with a smile and a nod, I told him I got it. If you make Sean laugh he’ll start to drool. If you excite him, his motor functions will speed up and he’ll drop your change without realizing it. Beyond that, Sean is a model checkout clerk. Other shoppers try to trip him up all the time, though. They look at him and, automatically, they don’t trust him. But maybe I trust him too much. Or maybe I just don’t give a damn about the penny, nickel, or dime I’m occasionally shorted. Sean probably needs it more than I do. 22 January 2001