Happiness At Whole Foods

In the Dali Lama’s travels around the world he made a point of asking people, “are you happy?” Those living in abject poverty would typically look at him impassively and say nothing but people just above that level who had met the basic needs of life for themselves and their families responded they were very happy. People above this level however, as wealth increased he found their happiness became less.

The big Whole Foods grocery in Santa Fe is a place I generally avoid. It’s too much of everything, including a scene. The parking lot is always a snarl, crowds of people wander around (the place has to be a cash machine), the selection of goods is endless, the schmooze factor is over the top, and there’s the ensuing din of it all. Nonetheless I braced myself recently and went to the store for a few items.

The combined SUV inventories of the local BMW, Land Rover and Lexus dealerships would fade in comparison to the lineup in the parking lot. The next largest vehicular group would be a generous sprinkling of feel-good Toyota Prius’. MB and Audi made strong showings, there were a couple of Porsches and just one Bentley. Suffice it to say if the contents of the parking lot is any indicator, Whole Foods customers are pretty well heeled.

Inside the store I made a point to look at people’s faces. I saw frowns, scowls and self-absorbed blankness. The staff were making efforts to smile, and the fellow I asked where I would find the canned chicken soup dropped what he was doing and lead me to it. He then offered to become my shopping assistant, asking if I had other items he could help me find and I did. So he lead me around and waited patiently each time I paused to make a selection and then on we went. I thanked him profusely; I’d never had help in a grocery store like this before and thus assume whatever the other customers trouble’s it wasn’t the service. But they were unhappy. The air was thick with their malaise, it was an uncomfortable vibe.

At the check out counter I watched the two customers ahead of me interact with the cashier, a pleasant well-groomed young woman who started each encounter with, “Hi, how are you today?” The customer in the lead was yammering away on her cell phone through the whole transaction and didn’t even look at the cashier much less speak to her. The next glanced at her but didn’t say a word.

The people working in places like this have my admiration; they are kings and queens for the good efforts they put in and the crap they put up with. When it was my turn and the cashier said, “Hi, how are you today?”

I made eye contact and replied, “I’m good thanks. How are you?” and it actually startled her. I could see her collecting herself for a second or two and then she smiled. No, it was more than a smile, her face lit up.

“I’m doing well. Thanks for asking.” she said. I paid for my groceries as she was bagging them and she said, “Enjoy your day.”

I said, “You too,” then looked around the store adding, “the very best you can.”

“Thanks,” she said, with her face still alight.

How about that. A little bit of happiness is pretty simple.

Gordon Bunker