Some people just don’t get my sense of humor.

I went shopping for a few things down at the Vons, which is a chain of supermarkets, for those of you in distant climes. I had about a dozen items in a little hand-basket. When I went to check out, I lifted the basket onto the conveyor with one hand, very easily.

The cashier said, “Would you like some help out?”

Now this question – as considerate and friendly as it is – always jangles my keys, ya know? I mean I hauled that little pile of crap up there with one hand. I think I can get it to the parking lot without help. I’m a grown man, for cryin in the rain. I work out, with 20 pound dumbbells.

I can see offering help to get your purchases to your car if you have a lot, or you’re an older citizen or infirm in some way. I admire people offering to help each other, really. So usually I just say no thanks. Sometimes I chuckle and say Well, I got it up here, guess I can get it out.

Tonight there was something plugging up my mood, and I had to be rid of it.

“One of these days,” I said, “I’m going to come up here with my five pounds of stuff and take you up on that offer. I’m gonna say Yeah Dude help me get this handful of stuff to my truck.”

I said it in a friendly way, laughing, joking. The cashier was just barely able to feign a weak half-smile.

While this was going on, a lady got in line behind me. She clutched a single item to her little chest. Something it a can, it was. One can of something. She may have been mumbling My Precious, My Precious.

I began to feel like a smartass jerk. When the cashier said, “Thank you Mr. Kimberlin,” I said, “Oh, thank you very much; have a good night.”

And as I turned and walked away, past the mini Starbucks, I heard him say to the lady with one can of something precious, “Help out tonight?”