Dispatches from the Fury Road: Chats

A Dutch supermarket chain has introduced a special checkout lane called “Kletskassa”.

This translates into English as “Chat Checkout” and it is a lane for people who like talking to the cashier without feeling like someone in the line is going to murder them because all they want to do is buy a stick of gum. The inspiration for the Jumbo supermarket to create this lane came from the Dutch government’s initiative called “One Against Loneliness”. This is a way to tackle the inherent loneliness in every day life, especially for the elderly. You can read more about it here.

It is easy to go through a day without talking to anyone. I’m very good at it. I’m so good I’m thinking of going professional. I have often felt like the Once-ler in Dr Seuss’ masterpiece, “The Lorax”. Working from home in my apartment, waiting for someone to pay me 15 cents, a nail and the shell of a great-great-great-grandfather snail, doing my best to keep my head above water in this challenging economy. I work and I work and I work. I have goals I want to meet and bills that have to be paid. Luckily I enjoy my jobs and I feel comfortable in this life I have chosen to lead.

Yet I would be lying if I didn’t admit at times it can be isolating. This manifests in funny ways, like when I find myself out to dinner or buying product from a store, I catch myself banging on to the staff as if they give a shit about what I’ve been thinking. Even when I watch their eyes cloud over, I can’t stop from barrelling forwards with my thoughts, letting them know that yes, I have indeed, been thinking about stuff.

I can only imagine for the older generation how difficult modern life can be. Most companies you call have you listening to automated voices that tell you to press 1, 2, or 3 so you can proceed. Rarely is there a voice at the end of the line. You self check out at a lot of stores. Even bots reply to your queries online and in ways that leave you so overwhelmed with fury, you give up on what you were trying to achieve and eat seven slices of toast out of frustration.

Then there is the rhetoric and jokes made at Boomer’s expense. I find these gags to be lazy and hypocritical as often those making the jokes align themselves with marginalised groups of people and movements. To colour all people of a certain age as Boomers is to miss the actual problem. It isn’t the older generation we should be attempting to take down, it should be the greedy rich. Most older people just want to get on with their lives and enjoy the time they have left to the best of their ability. I think one of the major issues we have in the world is we stopped thinking the rich were awful and instead decided they were aspirational.

Meanwhile we experience certain young middle class boys and girls declaring that Boomers should shuffle off this mortal coil, when I know for a fact they went to private schools, had their home deposits gifted by their families, and have never had a moment in their lives where they had to make a choice between eating or paying a late bill. As the saying goes, “People born with silver spoons wedged firmly up their arseholes shouldn’t throw bon mots”…

…or something like that.

Anything that encourages conversation works for me. When I come into contact with lonely people, I can feel it in their every move, and initially in their inability to carry out a conversation. I know people who declare that they aren’t lonely, when their every move and word suggests otherwise.

I would love to see the slow lane brought to Australia. I’d love to go to a restaurant where one side has wait staff who aren’t in a hurry and would even sit with you while you ate. I’d love to experience any store where the staff would engage with you while you talked, instead of slyly looking over your shoulder in the hope they’ll catch a co-worker’s face to help extradite them from the conversation.

I’d just love to see people who feel rejected from every day society find a place where they’re treated like they’re someone.

At the chemist today I walked down an aisle when an older gentleman was walking towards me. I went to pass him one way but he moved in the same direction. I tried the other side but he mirrored my movement. By the time we had chosen the same way to pass on the third attempt, we were practically face-to-face.

“Care to dance?” the gentleman said.

“I would be honoured,” I replied as I took him by the hand and shoulder, gently spinning him around so he could pass.

He laughed.

I laughed.

In the grand scheme of life, it was just an unimportant moment.

We could use more moments like this.

Justin Hamilton

Surry Hills

4th of March, 2024