Senior Daze

by Katie Bourg

About Katie: Having arrived in time for the Great (?) Depression, WWII, and all other 20th century problems, I am endowed with long and varied memories. Writing classes have long been my home away from home. Other people's stories are fascinating, and sharing is growth at its best. Hope you seniors will join me with your stories. Try it. You'll like it.

If Grandma's rocking chair is still sitting in the parlor corner, it may be a little dusty.

We aren't what we used to be. My daughter informed me some time back that 80 is the new 60. We don't find time to get old anymore. If we aren't volunteering, we're picking up a little extra change, doing something.

An old back injury causes me to bend involuntarily--a great annoyance when I need exercise. Almost daily I search out stores with shopping carts to hold on to. Grocery stores are pretty good. My favorite big box store has higher ones, which forces me to stand up straight. By now their greeters nod as I approach the entrance. I wander up and down the aisles at a pretty fast clip.

I wear a tiny pedometer in my pants pocket, and have figured out just how many aisles I must travel, and how many trips to make a mile. It has become a routine, once or twice a week. The other day I was told I'm not the only one doing this. I thought some of those other shoppers looked familiar.

I admit to enjoying other perks of my grocery aisle journeys. Samples. I never pass up an opportunity to taste. And fairly often I pick up a package of the product. My son, who takes me to the store on Sundays, does the same, and without fail we add to the total at the checkout stand.

I have come to enjoy the friendly faces of the sample givers. A large percentage appear to be in my geriatric class or close to it. That triggered my curiosity. I recently sat down to talk with one of these friendly helpers. She keeps so busy it took several weeks to find a time we could meet.

Alice Martin is well past retirement age. Her husband is not in good health, and she does not do well with his uncomfortable confinement. So she decided to do something about it. She stays at Port Susan for the most part, and she first became a volunteer, attempting to channel teenagers into healthy activities. It apparently was not challenging enough and she looked for something more.

A Bible school friend was accustomed to bringing treats to meetings, and they got into a discussion of where they came from. The friend bought them at her part-time workplace, where she gave out samples to shoppers. She suggested Alice do the same. The pay may not always be the best for a younger person, but as a senior supplement, it's satisfying. And she got to meet the public-again, something she had been doing all of her work life. Alice was back in the groove and loving it.

We had coffee together the other day, and she gave me some of the particulars of this work source.

Sample givers must be constantly people-friendly and have a good loud voice to convince folks to stop and try their wares. (I wouldn't think it would take much convincing.) They work a six-hour day, with time off for lunch. Depending on the needs of the different vendors, they may work anywhere from one to six days a week.

This is pretty strenuous work when you think about it. The sample-giver must be able to stand all that time. Hairnets and gloves are required, and must be changed frequently. If some careless taster spreads his or her hands over an entire tray of goodies, they must throw them away rather than risk contamination. That's something most people might not think about. They should, but sample givers must smile and say nothing.

They are always assigned to the same store, so they get to know each other. It can become a friendly club. They actually work for and are paid by a company called Warehouse Demo Services or WDS, which sends them to Costco.

There are customers who lunch daily at the food court. It' s pleasant place to work, where everyone seems happy with what they are doing. A winning situation that puts a little extra in the pocket. It certainly beats riding Grandma's rocking chair into old age.

Whatever old age is nowadays.