‘Don’t take things personally!’

The oft-spouted maxim exemplified and clarified.

As I loaded my groceries from cart to car, a Jeep Wrangler screeched into the adjacent space.

A lithe, bushy-haired young man jumped out and rushed for the Whole Foods entrance.

In departing seconds earlier, I had said to the manager holding the door to allow the final customer —me— to leave,

“Made it out before 9pm!”

I had wanted to let the manager know I appreciated his past kindness.

Habituated to doing things at the last minute, I’m often one of the last shoppers. Frequently, I head out even a few minutes after 9pm’s closing deadline.

Feeling solidarity for my fellow last-minute strategist, I called out,

“Better hurry! You might have, maybe, fifteen seconds.”

My willowy compatriot tried the door.

No luck.

He trudged back toward his Jeep. Holding out my iPhone to display the unmistakably large numbers on its Home Screen, I beckoned him over.

“9:00pm.”

I hoped to convey the door had been appropriately locked. No injustice. No personal ramification.

Until the last digit changed from “0” to “1”, he seemed not to comprehend.

“Oh. 9:01pm.

No wonder.

Sometimes you make it. Sometimes you don’t.”