Years ago I was pretty much full of myself, and rather intolerant, judgmental, and superior toward others.

The local grocery store had a tendency to hire people who were, shall we say, less than fully there. Actually, in my vernacular of the day, they were retards. There was this one in particular that had worked there for a few months and could not for the life of himself get the hang of bagging groceries. Geez! Heavy and hard on the bottom, light and delicate on the top. How many gray cells were required to remember that? Obviously, more than he had.

I would make a point to NOT get in the lane he was bagging, even if it meant being in the longest line. Then one day, just as the clerk began ringing me up, he switched lanes and began bagging my stuff. Cripes, the eggs won't survive, the fruit will be bruised, why on earth didn't he stay where he was!

Oh, I should point out that this was back in the day of paper bags. Remember them? He crammed my things into two bags, then stood there with this grin on his face and those unfocused eyes staring at me as he held one bag out for me to take, then handed me the other. "Have a nice day." was barely intelligible.

As I stepped out of the lane some woman who was in far too big of a hurry bumped into me, sending both bags to the floor and groceries sprawling everywhere. "Watch where you're going" she snapped at me as she hurried off. I wanted so badly to bounce a can of peas off the back of her head. Then I noticed the bag boy, on his hands and knees, hurriedly rounding up the groceries and rebagging them. Miraculously, the bags had not ripped. All he while, he was apologizing profusely as if he'd been the one who ran into me.

The eggs were broken and dripping. "I'm so sorry. Please, wait here. I'll be right back." and he hurried off with the drippy carton, doing his best to catch them all. In what seemed to be just a minute he returned with a new carton. "I checked them. They are all okay." he said in the same voice, with the same grin, and the same slightly unfocused eyes that he'd previously spoken with. But this time they were not repulsive. In fact, I saw more in his eyes and grin in that moment than I'd seen in a lot of other faces. He was genuinely concerned that I was a satisfied customer. "Here" he said as he placed them into my bag, "No charge. Have a nice day." And with that he turned back to bagging.

I have to say, that seriously tilted my world and I headed for the door in a bit of a stupor. There must have been a hundred thought processes running at once over that. Then something occurred to me and I turned back to the customer service counter. What happened was not the store's fault or responsibility. They were not liable for the broken eggs, and I was pretty sure a bag boy didn't have the authority to act as the store's agent. My concern was that he would end up paying for my eggs, something he probably couldn't afford.

When I got to the counter, I asked for the manager who came up from somewhere behind me. I explained what happened and my concern that the boy would get docked for the eggs. The manager said that wouldn't happen, that technically the store wasn't responsible, but "Billy" was a pretty good customer service rep and they backed his efforts. So I left. And pondered. And learned. And from then on, when I shopped there, I went to his lane, even if the line was the longest.