I walked into Cala a few days ago. It was a weekday afternoon, cold and bright. As I entered the produce section, an announcement came over the P.A.

"Good afternoon ... Cala shoppers. Today in our produce section we have ... delicious ... ... Sat-sue-me Manda-reen ... tange-rines. Please stop by and try some. Thank you ... thank you and have a good day."

There were barely ten people in the store, but fter the announcement it sounded like there were twenty. There were catcalls and guffaws and people yelling "Way to go Isaac!"

I passed a very tall, very thin man in a blinding white button-down shirt and festive red and green tie. He was juggling tiny bruised-looking fruits, most likely the "Mandareen tangerines." He was shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

As I passed him, I slowed down and almost asked to try one of the fruits. But with all the shaking and rolling and catcalling, I don't think he noticed me.

Two minutes later, in the cereal section, as I was quietly lamenting the absence of my oatmeal brand, the P.A. snapped on again.

"Good afternoon Cala shoppers! Today in our produce section we have ... delicious ... ... Sat-sue-me Manda-reen ... tange-rines. Please stop by and try some delicious ... Sat-sue-me Manda-reen ... tange-rines. Thank you! ... And have a good day!"

Up and down the aisles, more catcalls ensued, along with shout-outs and loud whistles.

Another five or so minutes passed, as I completed my speedy circuit of the store and rounded the bakery aisle heading toward the Express check-out.

As I moved past the specialty cakes, the P.A. snapped on again.

"Good afternoon Cala shoppers! Today in our produce section we have DEE-LICIOUS Sat-sue-me Manda-reen ... tange-rines. Please stop by and try some. Thank you! And have a good day!"

As I approached the checkout stand, I noticed that the checker was holding a telephone receiver. He had been making the announcements.

I got in line.

The checker slammed down the receiver triumphantly and turned his attention to the woman whose purchase he'd just rung up.

"How was that? How'd I do THAT time?" he asked the woman.

"Great! That was just ... really ... GREAT!" she said, clutching her groceries as if afraid someone would snatch them away from her. She looked pale.

The checker shrugged and smiled.

"Thanks. Hey, I tried."

An elderly man shuffled by the checker on his way out of the store.

The checker called his name and asked "So how did I do?"

The man slowed slightly and shouted over his shoulder, "Great! You oughtta be on stage! ... The next stage OUT OF TOWN!"

"Man! That was cold!" the checker snapped.

"You oughtta be on the bus!" he shouted after the old man. "The GREYhound bus!"

The manager approached our checkout line, a little bounce in his step. "In case you want to know what a mandareen tanger-ine tastes like, here ya go!" He tossed tangerines to everyone, including the checker, who shook his head and looked offended.

**Everyone wins!

The check-out guy got to make an announcement over the supermarket P.A. (something I've always wanted to do). Plus he was blessed with the opportunity to exercise his obvious moxie and determination.

His co-workers got the chance to engage in a little harmless, if ego-bruising, ridicule.

The manager experienced the pleasure of giving (free tangerines for everyone!).

The lady with the groceries got to tell a small good-intentioned Christmastime lie.

The old man delivered a great vintage parting shot.

And I received the joy of bearing witness.