I went to buy bread at the grocery store. I ended up learning about life.

Perhaps not many people experience the problem I sometimes encounter at the grocery store--choosing between the checkout counters when they are staffed by friendly faces with whom I have developed a small-talk-relationship.

It gets even more complicated because one of them has even told me how she gets possessive about "her" customers and feels slighted when "her" customer goes to another counter.  I respect such sentiments because, more than anything else, it tells me how much some people love doing whatever they do.  There is a sense of pride in their work.  It is not merely a job that delivers a paycheck.

There is an old Tamil saying--செய்வனை திருந்த செய். I hope I got that correctly, given how far removed I am from the language anymore. It is a simple and direct advice to do well whatever it is that we do.  And that is exactly what some of those grocery store clerks personify.

So, I went with the clerk who most enthusiastically welcomed me.  I wonder if the other "possessive" clerk will have some remarks the next time I go to her counter.  If she does, I am sure we will laugh about it--her laughter is way louder than mine.

As I started getting the items out of the basket, I told the clerk that I had my bag and that I didn't need a store bag.

"I washed this just yesterday" I told her.

"Oh, thanks" she said with a smile.  "Some of those bags are so gross."

I laughed as I contemplated how much I ought to become a nerd--or nerdier than how I was--and tell her about that study on bacteria in reusable bags that make us sick.  I went for it.

"A few months ago, I read about a research work that suggested that unwashed reusable bags are loaded with germs.  Since then, I regularly wash the bags I use."

"I can believe that.  Which is why when my two year old grandson had cancer, I was practically bathing in this" she said pointing to the Purell.

I thought I had problems in life and here was this woman talking about a two-year old kid with cancer.  It was turning out to be one of those occasions when small talk is not just small talk but a profound lesson on life itself.

"I wanted to make sure that I wasn't getting sick and taking those germs to my grandson" she said.

What can one say in this context, right?  Usually in small talk, we joke around.  We use the word "kid" as a synonym for joke and not to refer to a two-year old with cancer!

"Ouch, when was this?"

"Two years ago."

"How is your grandson now?"

"Thankfully he seems to have recovered and is doing well.  He is four years old now."

By then, she had completed scanning and bagging. "With all those germs all around us all the time, we can't let our guard down. They will get us" I said as I left.

With a guilty expression I passed the other "possessive" clerk.  She smiled and waved me bye.

A two-year old with cancer.  Life is cruel, sometimes.