ON THE COUCH WITH JASMINDA: Keep it short and sweet

DEAR Jasminda,

WHEN I am asked, “How are you”, at the supermarket, I always ask the same question back and continue with some friendly smalltalk.

My wife tells me the cashier has no interest in how I am, nor are they interested in extending the conversation, and it’s just a platitude.

What do you think?

Gerry M.

DEAR Gerry,

YOU know, I think it depends on a few things.

Personally, I always ask service station attendants or cashiers or wait staff how they are in a reciprocal way, but if they are clearly busy or there is a queue, I make sure any conversation is kept to a minimum.

A simple, “I’m well. Thanks for asking. I hope you’re having a good day too,” is polite conversation.

Most people are socially aware enough to know that the “How are you?” in a supermarket line is very different to “How are you” when you’re reclining on a psychologist’s lounge next to a box of tissues and a Lava Lamp.

It is imperative that you don’t take the question too literally.

It would be bad form, for example, while the customer behind you is loading their dairy products, veggies and dog food onto the supermarket conveyor belt for you to say, “Well, Marie, I can see your name is Marie from your name badge. Thank you for asking. And in all honesty, I’m not going so well. Yesterday, I picked up a plastic bottle from the side of the road in my efforts to ‘Keep Australia Beautiful’. It was only once it was in my hand, that I realised it was a handmade bong. I’m not saying I am overly familiar with the design specifics of a bong (I admit to a dalliance or two in my youth) but in a line up, I could recognise one. I couldn’t, at that point, put it back down, so I continued on my walk, the distinct smell of a Fleetwood Mac concert wafting up to my nostrils in the breeze. As I walked a bit further, a lady (who, I might add, Marie, is known as the town gossiper) started heading towards me. I had no idea what to do, so I tried to furtively hide the object behind my back. We had a brief conversation and continued on our merry way. That evening, I had a quick peruse of my social media and there, on the local community page, was a post from the town gossiper. ‘Be kind,’ her post said, ‘You never know what people are going through.’ Accompanying the post was a photo of the back of me. I was clearly holding the offending bong, which I had every intention of putting in the return and earn facility (its barcode still intact). Under this, someone had commented “Dude, Where’s My Car?” with three laughing emojis followed by another comment with a link to the National Alcohol and Other Drug hotline. On it went. I tell you, Marie, no good deed goes unpunished …’

At which point, Marie the cashier would no doubt say something like “I’m very sorry, sir, it sounds as though you’re having a hard time, but we can’t open Register 2 on the weekend and there are now 15 people waiting behind you, including four who are filming you on their Smartphones. Cash or card?”

Stick to common (and speedy) niceties, Gerry. Anything more can lead to unintended consequences.

Carpe diem,

Jasminda.