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If Only

The narrator, who works at a 7-Eleven, believes that being friendly and polite to customers will help him deal with any situation. However, an encounter with an elderly woman in need shatters this belief. The woman appears sick and destitute, wearing ragged clothing on a cold night. When she says she needs food but cannot pay, the narrator remembers the store rules not to give away merchandise and denies her request. Remorseful after she leaves empty-handed, he realizes how easily humanity can fail its most vulnerable members.

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Maryjoy Paladan
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475 views1 page

If Only

The narrator, who works at a 7-Eleven, believes that being friendly and polite to customers will help him deal with any situation. However, an encounter with an elderly woman in need shatters this belief. The woman appears sick and destitute, wearing ragged clothing on a cold night. When she says she needs food but cannot pay, the narrator remembers the store rules not to give away merchandise and denies her request. Remorseful after she leaves empty-handed, he realizes how easily humanity can fail its most vulnerable members.

Uploaded by

Maryjoy Paladan
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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If Only

By Paul Monahan

Having worked at 7-Eleven Store for two years, I thought I had become successful at
what our manager calls “customer relations.” I firmly believed that a friendly smile and an
automatic “sir,” “ma’am”, and “thank you” would see me through any situation that might arise,
from soothing impatient or unpleasant people to apologizing for giving out the wrong change,
but the other night an old woman shattered my belief that a glib response could smooth over the
rough spots of dealing with other human beings.
The moment she entered, the woman presented a sharp contrast to our shiny store with its bright
lighting and neatly arranged shelves. Walking as if each step were painful, she slowly pushed
open the glass door and hobbled down the nearest aisle. She coughed dryly, wheezing with each
breath.
On a forty-degree night, she was wearing only a faded print dress, a thin, light beige
sweater too small to button, and black vinyl slippers with the backs cut out to expose calloused
heels. There were no stockings or socks on socks on her splotchy blue veined legs.
After strolling around the store for several minutes, the old woman stopped in front of the rows
of canned vegetables. She picked up some corn niblets and stared with a strange intensity at the
label. At that point, I decided to be a good courteous employee and asked her if she needed help.
As I stood close to her, my smile became harder to maintain,; red-rimmed eyes were partially
closed by yellowish crusts, her hands were covered with layer upon layer of grime, and the stale
smell of sweat rose in a thick vaporous cloud from her clothes.
“I need some food,: she muttered in reply to my bright . “Can I help you?” “Are you
looking for corn, ma’am?” “I need some food,” she replied. “Any kind.”
“Well, the corn is ninety-five cents,” I said in my most helpful voice. “Or, if you like, we have a
special on bologna today.”
“I can’t pay,” she said.
For a second, I was tempted to say, “Take the corn.” But the employee rules flooded into
my mind: Remain polite, but do not let customers get the best of you. Let them know that you
are in control. For a moment, I even entertained the idea that this was some sort of test, and this
woman was someone from the head office, testing my loyalty. I responded dutifully, “I’m sorry,
ma’am, but I can’t give away anything free.”
The old woman’s face collapsed a bit more, if that were possible, and her hands trembled
as she put the can back on the shelf. She shuffled past me toward the door, her torn and dirty
clothing barely covering her bent back.
Moments after she left, I rushed out the door with the can of corn, but she was nowhere in
sight. For the rest of my shift, the image of the woman haunted me. I had been young, healthy,
and smug. She had been old, sick, and desperate. Wishing with all my heart that I had acted like
a human being rather than a robot, I was saddened to realize how fragile a hold we have on our
better instincts.

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