Saturday Night at Safeway

Saturday Night at Safeway

Magic is, where magic lives.

The first good news of an otherwise bleak day, was the Stephen was holding court on register four.

The man is magic.

“Serving you… count them… twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three sixty-five large ones in a row, with everything the experienced shopper wants, needs, and yes, dare I say, deserves. Safeway, your one-stop shopping central, featuring a plethora of high-quality necessities, from Gourmet Lite Dinner Entrees, to the dinner seven out of ten discerning dogs demand, Grrraaavy, Purina’s top of the line entry into the world of Fido food.”

I’d rarely seen him in such form. Oh, sure, he’d took the Fourth of July over the top with a dazzling display of sparklers and a fire extinguisher, and no one would soon forget his tastefully clever Dole banana disguise at Halloween? Without a doubt, he’s always proven to be the master of working with props, but tonight it was different.

Stephen was working without a net.

No gadgets, no gimmicks, nothing to fall back on. He was pushing the envelope—charting virgin territory.

“ Yes, friends, Safeway, America’s last bastion of quality, reliability, bargain, and dare I say it?... service to you, our valued friends, and customers. Dedicated to providing you, our neighbors, with the highest quality of produce, commodities and supplies. Whatever you need, whenever you need it… we’re here for you. If we don’t have it, you won’t need it.”

He was hot, and he knew it.

He smiled charmingly at the elderly couple as they approached his register. “Good evening, sir. I do hope you’ve had a pleasant shopping experience this evening. Paper or plastic this evening, sir? I see you’ve brought your lovely daughter with you this evening. What?....... no! Really? Your lovely bride of 54 years? Congratulations sir. I envy you such a rare beauty. I’m sure you’re very proud of her, and by the way, I hope you took a moment to peruse our unadvertised special on the 48 ounce boxes of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes on aisle eleven. Frosted Flakes… they’re Grrrreat!. Allow me to double bag these oranges for you, you can’t be too careful… oh, my, excuse me, I’ve detected a very slight blemish on this Sunkist Navel.”

His performance was better than I would have ever thought possible.

Tonight, Stephen was hot on the trail of the Holy Grail of retail, the dangerous and seldom seen continuous-checking-bagging-bantering-all-store assistance-call.

Cradling the handset in the crook of his neck, Stephen punched the code for the all-store call, while delicately placing a Safeway Select Cheesecake aside for additional bagging.

His clear, masculine voice filled every corner of the store.

“Bob, we need a Code One Sunkist Classic on Four, please. Stat!

The utterance of that single monosyllabic word, “Stat,” over the house PA, galvanized Team Safeway into action. Even before Stephen could cancel the store-wide call with the obligatory, “Thank you, Bob,” the produce manager himself had hand delivered the pristine replacement to the scanner.

Stephen offered the couple a modest smile and a wink. Undiluted talent.

“Sorry for the delay, friends, there is no charge for the fruit.” Stephen slyly pulled a coupon from the right pocket of his apron, and deftly swiped it across the scanner.

“Please allow me to offer a two-for-one coupon for your S&W Premium Whole Kernel Corn 15.25 ounce size—you are aware, I hope, that S&W Premium Whole Kernel Corn contains eight grams of natural carbohydrates in every serving, not to mention the miniscule 60 calories.

That’s going to be thirty-seven-ninety-one this evening, folks, a savings of a dime short of a ten-spot. Let me get someone to carry this out for you.”

With a twirling flair, Stephen replaced the order separator, made the correct change, and leaning slightly forward, said, “Hey-you-folks-watch-your-steps-out-there-it’s-been-raining-was-sure-nice-to-see-you-both-again-come-back-and-see-us-again-soon-good-night-now-friends”

I was watching history being made.

Quarter milers talk of a perfect stride which effortlessly consumes the track; basketball players speak in hushed, reverent tones of the game in which everything fell perfectly into place; fishermen brag of the big one that didn’t get away.

History.

Later that evening, a dampened white towel draped casually across his shoulders, Stephen reflected on not only the evening’s performance, but what it all meant to him.

“I wasn’t really chasing anything out there tonight… it just happened. It found me, and I found myself in the middle of it. It became… well… dreamlike. The change always came out correctly. I knew who needed stamps before they asked. The fives weren’t sticking together like they can in this weather, especially with the prevailing north-west wind. Register four, right next to the exit can offer some pretty contentious surprises, but somehow, it all worked.

“Look, it isn’t just me out there. Did you catch Mario’s assist on the cottage cheese? His pivot to bypass the traffic in can goods was classic. He saved at least 12-15 seconds with that move. No one can teach you this stuff. You’re born with it.

“I felt like I should pinch myself a couple times out there. Sometimes, it just didn’t seem real. But, hey, you have to take these things into perspective. This isn’t just my record—Lisha, Tom, Betty, and what about my man, Bob, the produce manager? They are part of the effort, part of the team. No one ever has, or ever will climb this mountain alone."

Stephen’s brown eyes lowered as his voice softened. “This is what we all work for, you know. This is why we all show up, day after day; ready to pull out all the stops. It’s more than…”

His voice trembled.

“Service. Service… that’s what it’s all about. These people need us, you know.”

The gleam returned to his eye as the fire burned brightly within him.

“Hey, Sportsfans, break time is over for this boy. I’m backing up Tanya on six for the next two hours and I hear there’s a spill just south of catsup on fourteen.”

He stood erect, shed the towel from his shoulders, and without another word, strode confidently back into the fray.

Confidently striding towards the front of the store, his voice boomed throughout the store room, out onto this warrior’s arena.

“Twenty-four hours a day. Everyday. All day. Our promise: a smile, honest prices and service second to none.

Safeway!

Could there be a better way?”

No way!

We’ll match any price, advertised or not. Bringing you the freshest……”

I’m afraid our little town isn’t going to be big enough to hold him.

Can the call of Corporate be too far off for this star?

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