You might say that I’m having a senior moment now.
Scratch that. Now that I’m well into in my 60s, those momentary, forgetful lapses have been occurring since — well I can’t recall. It makes me think about the classic film “Fiddler on the Roof,” when the mother (Golde) sings about their adult children in the song Sunrise, Sunset: “I don’t remember growing older. When did they?”
I reminisce on this as I recall working as a young produce clerk on a slow Monday or Tuesday. That’s when the bus from nearby Sunny Acres Senior Villas pulled into our lot. Some clerks in the store rolled their eyes. A few let out an audible groan or even joked, “Oh, no. It’s the geriatric invasion, the elderly wave, the senior citizen posse.”
Other clerks tiptoed to the back room to wait them out.
Why? The seniors tended to mill around and not buy much. They seemed to require extra attention. “Can you reach that small can of corn on the top shelf for me?” Or they asked for products or services we didn’t normally provide. “I only need a half head of cauliflower. Could you trim off the banana stems? I don’t want to pay for something I don’t eat!”
Most didn’t ask for anything special at all, despite needing to. Or they might corner you, telling their life story, as other clerks mimicked afterwards. “This fruit’s still green. Why, back in Missoura, the peaches were so juicy they just ran down your chin!”
Impatient clerks did their best, as I said, to avoid them or worse, give the Sunny Acres customers the cold shoulder.
This was clearly a terrible way to regard these folks. As a produce manager, I thought about my own aging parents. How would I feel if they were treated with disdain, such disrespect? It’s unfortunate at best, sinful at worst.
Related: More insight from Armand Lobato
It’s unfortunate that we’re a nation that celebrates youth, not age and wisdom. So, when the senior bus group arrived, I made darn sure to try and set the example, remembering the discourteous behavior of co-workers in the early going of my career.
I made sure that we set the wet rack with plenty of half-cut, smaller portion produce offerings: cabbage, head lettuce, single ribs of celery and so on. Lots of quarter cuts were available too, not only for seniors, but for everyone. After all, consider: Who uses a whole head of red cabbage? (We also sold a lot more overall doing this, by the way). And at no extra charge.
As for cut fruit, we strived to offer not only half and quarter watermelon chunks, but some smaller, overwrapped, one-eighth cuts too. It drives me crazy that some chains mark up the cuts so high. I realize cut fruits command a premium, but consider your end-user customer; single seniors can be on a fixed income. Many times, these people are among those who can least afford to buy fresh produce. It seems that there ought to be more consideration out there.
That’s my real message this week: senior consideration — and they’re a growing segment.
According to the National Institutes of Health, America’s age 65-and-over population is projected to nearly double over the next few decades from 48 million to 88 million by 2050. So, are those busloads of silver-haired folks still a lot to merely tolerate or are they a valued customer base to whom we should pay closer attention?
Besides the projected stats, the overriding message should be thus: aging is a natural, unpredictable and many times a difficult process, so be kind.
I never admonished a clerk for engaging in an occasional longer conversation with seniors, as I did the same thing myself. Sometimes the trip to the grocery store is the only outing that these folks have all month. Make them feel welcome.
It doesn't take that much time or effort to visit with a senior for a few minutes. At the very least acknowledge them and sincerely thank them for coming in. Offer to help them reach the small can of corn on the top shelf or cut the lettuce or cauliflower head into halves or even quarters, without them having to ask.
Consider that someday that shuffling, smoky-eyed senior leaning on the shopping cart will be – you.
Armand Lobato works for the Idaho Potato Commission. His 40 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions.