Friday, November 6, 2015

Anita, the singing cashier: My Ongoing Understanding of Neurotypicals

I didn't want to bother her. She and two others were standing, waiting at the entrances to their checkout lanes, but I'd already turned in the direction of her aisle, before I noticed she looked a little labored to be standing, and she'd done caught me with the dreaded.....eye contact.. I was stuck. 

   She turned to go the short way to her register to meet me, but someone was blocking her with one of those riding carts. "I'll just go this way," she said, and Anita (so her tag said) went hobbling.

I felt like such a terrible person, until I heard it, "Do, do, doo, do, ...Do, dado-do..." I don't know the tune, but she was, "Do, da,doo-ing" possibly the most pleasant bit of Scat singing I've heard. I was putting my things on the counter when she made it to the register, and I, smiling, said, "It was worth the trip, just for the song." People filed in behind me, and she smiled at my comment, and raised the volume and her smile, whereupon I began, my subtlest of jigs, mostly the shoulders and head...a little arm and hand hula action - nothing overboard. 

 Ah, she sang along, and it was beautiful, and I happily paid for the lettuce and cheese. I took the bags from the carousel, and put them in my cart saying, "I think I got them all." She answered playfully, white hair sparkling and lilt in her voice, "Let's give it the traditional twirl and see!" and she spun the carousel while I spun a hand in the air to flourish with a wave, and bid good evening with a shared giggle and thanks for the song...

Should you find yourself in the aisle of Anita, the singing cashier, I recommend dancing along. She knows her stuff! :)

tina jones