A grocery store, a bell ringer, and some annoyance

Big Y World Class Market. Manchester, CT. Today. Normal supermarket commotion.

A dinner bell-style bell hangs unassumingly on the wall by the automatic exit doors. On her way out, a woman pushing a cart swings the rope inside the bell, which produces an enormous ding ding ding, as if a trolley was making its way through.

The bell silences the store’s front end. Heads turn. Murmurs. Cashiers, baggers, customers stop and peer. The bell-ringing woman exits without fanfare, small child in tow.

With business at a stand-still, everyone wants to know why the mysterious and previously silent bell is even there and why the hell the woman rang it. With the disruption fresh in our ears, people frown curiously. Some grimace in annoyance.

Bagger 1: What was THAT all about?
Bagger 2: I have no idea.
Customer ahead of me in line: I think that woman just had a meltdown.
Cashier: What was her PROBLEM?

On my way out, I read the sign that hangs beside the bell.
“Ring bell if you received excellent customer service today.”

The nerve.

A toilet metaphor

The toilet seemed to work fine one day.

Then, we both leave the house. Off doing our own things.

Separate heartbreaking vacations.

During this time, it breaks. Tank cracks. Somehow.

Nobody sees it happen. It just does. We aren’t there.

Water runs. To the floor. To the basement. Things are ruined.

It seems salvageable. Repair the crack. Or replace the tank.

But no. They tell me it is too old. Whole thing must go.

“But it’s just the tank.”

“Nothing we can do.”

A plumber comes and switches the old for the new.

We carry the old to his truck. Leftover water sloshes. A drop jumps out onto my bare foot and I recoil.

Neighbors peer out their windows.

They only see what seems perfectly good being sent off to the dump.