Prayer of Gratitude for the Dividers at the Supermarket Checkout Counter

Prayer of Gratitude for the Dividers at the Supermarket Checkout Counter

Sometimes the cashier throws a rubber bar up the moving conveyor belt at the checkout counter to where you are tentatively standing.

You grab it, concerned about the potential confusion and shame that would arise if your Mallomars and Charmin Ultra Soft Tissue were intermingled with the English Muffins and Meow Mix Wet Cat Food of your checkout buddy just ahead.

But does this seemingly innocent rubber bar signal something more pernicious, a  protective barrier against the invasion of vulnerable hearts, like the floating booms that contain contaminating oil in clear waters?

Who are you, I wonder, spying my neighbor’s jumbo box of Q-Tips, the lightly salted quinoa chips, and this week’s issue of the National Enquirer, which promises to tell all about TEEN IDOLS TRAGIC LAST DAYS.  I imagine him watching Jeopardy in his Barcalounger, the cat purring on his lap.

Behind me, a woman aggressively reaches for the other available divider and carefully arranges her items on the mat.  For a moment I feel secure that a wall divides us, until I spy her five bags of Circus Peanuts, which are really not peanuts at all but peanut shaped marshmallow candy.

At first I think: a potential life-long, friend. But I remember that good fences make good neighbors, and as I smile at the cashier and make ready my bank card for chip acceptance, I thank God for the genius who invented the rubber bar.