I have noticed a few things are moving toward extinction: ashtrays, phone books, 45 rpm records and customer service. The only thing that I will miss is the last one. I always enjoyed the little bit of an exchange with a stranger treading together on common ground about a product or a service. But it’s a lost art.
Do you have ice in a bag?
Yeah, good. Where is it? (Should I really have to ask!)
Out there, she said, gesturing in the direction of the front of the store.
And there is some inside.
Yes, she said, gesturing to the left side of the store.
Where, inside? (I don’t work here, you dumbo.)
Well, over by the ice cream, she declared looking at me as if I had asked where do babies come from? As I walked to the car with the ice I knew that I’d never be back again and I wasn’t a bit sorry.