Change & Progress

In 1984 I worked as a delivery girl in a small neighborhood grocery store. The delivery service had a dedicated telephone number which meant if a customer called the store they would have to hang up and dial another number. When I answered the phone I wrote down the caller’s grocery order on a pad that had carbon paper between two sheets—one for me, one for the customer. After the cut-off time I’d take out my cart with boxes for each customer, first the dry goods, then produce, followed by refrigerated items and finally, frozen foods so they’d spend the least amount of time between packaging and delivery. I had to use a paper map of the city to locate the physical location of each delivery. Customers paid with cash, check or had an account with the store.Had someone told me that in 36 years I’d still be in the food business only this time my customers ordered online using a personal computer and similarly, I managed my inventory and pick lists with the same application, I would have been gob smacked. It was a big deal when the grocery store began to accept credit cards. Now customers tap their watches and wireless phones to a small plastic square to instantly complete a financial transaction with me, the money being deposited directly into my bank account by the next day.Sure, the fulfillment of orders still requires human intervention and many vendors still accept cash. The delivery drivers still have to transport the groceries to the customers’ doors but have handy devices with GPS guiding step by step for the shortest routes and detours around slowdowns.Some of these changes sneak up on us as the years roll by and then we wonder how we ever did without them. Others seemingly happen overnight.There’s always a dustup of shorts while the transition is taking place, but then things settle down and everyone falls into their preferred routines.With almost six months behind us after the initial shock of COVID-19, I’m beginning to see the new routine. A bellwether of things to come, early on my mother remarked, “I don’t think I’ll ever go inside a grocery store again. What a waste of time.” Frustrated with the interruption to my own weekly clockworks, a nerve was struck and that little inner voice told me, “Get used to it.”For a few years I had been training my regulars to shoot me a text with their order so I’d be certain to have what they wanted no matter what time they rolled into the market. I could count on waking up to a dozen or so orders Sundays, the customers always the same ones.My initial response to the panicked demand back in March was to send text messages to all of the regulars, but soon messages bombarded me through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, emails and even telephone calls. It wasn’t just me feeling overwhelmed as I touched based with fellow vendors. Many of us, including myself, streamlined our ordering systems through our websites to facilitate Central Farm Market’s curbside service and zero contact at our stands. Some vendors began their own delivery services, others stepped up their shipping game. The Farm to Fridge Delivery Service was begun.Weeks, then months went by and the new routine began to emerge. Order grew out of the chaos. From the littlest things like being able to port orders into pick lists and packing labels to how people were now purchasing their food for weeks at a time to reduce their exposure to the Corona Virus. Humans are creatures of habit, much like livestock, and have their own specific timetables and ways of doing things.I can tell you pretty much who the first dozen will be queued up on Sunday morning waiting to enter the market first thing. One particular customer whom I had seen at markets throughout the city nearly every week for years suddenly disappeared. I inquired as to her absence from a mutual friend only to find out she’d broken her leg. As terrible as that is, I gave a big sigh of relief given the pandemic knowing that as soon as she can she’ll be back at market and had not succumbed to the global scourge. Others, though I no longer see them, I know they’re still regulars by their names on my weekly orders both for curbside and delivery service.Everyone always says, “I’ll be happy when things are normal again.” Here’s the thing—a new normal has begun to emerge. As much as I kicked and screamed at the beginning of all this, there are many changes I am now embracing. Both customers and vendors griped about having to wear masks and now as the pandemic unfolds with over 50,000 new cases and over a thousand new deaths reported in the United States every day many are grateful for the enforcement of mask-wearing and social distancing at all Central Farm Market locations.A few weeks ago I stopped by a small local market in my hometown that I had helped to organize and attended for several years. It’s in a public location where there can be none of the safety protocols enforced such as the ones I’ve taken comfort in at Bethesda. Less than 50% of the patrons wore masks. Those that did were openly jeered by the “local lizards” as one of my former fellow vendors called the hecklers. A compliment to another vendor for wearing a mask (someone I was sure would refuse to do so) resulted in an agitated growl as he stated that the market was requiring him to wear one or he couldn’t attend. Oddly, other vendors flat out refused, yet they were still there. Few patrons were practicing social distancing with other patrons and with vendors alike. Kids hung out in front of the wood-fired pizza oven socializing and eating in tight proximity to each other. There was no shop & move.As I stood behind two unmasked women angry that they were unable to taste the cider I was patiently waiting to purchase. I realized how grateful I was for the changes that Central Farm Markets has made over the last several months to make their vendors and patrons feel safer in the wake of COVID-19. I knew I’d not be returning anytime soon and that saddened me. If I felt that way I imagine others do, too, and that couldn’t be good for business.I can see how people shop for food (an other goods) will forever be changed in many ways and that’s not always a bad thing. I used to look at the pick-up lanes at Target and think to myself, “Who does that?”  I do now, that’s who. I’m still patronizing the business. I still buy the exact same items so much so that I have a digital shopping list for cat food, toilet paper and cleaning supplies. A few quick taps on my iPad and they are purchased, paid, and picked to be brought out to my car as soon as I arrive at the store. Maybe someday in the future I’ll linger in the greeting card isle again or fill my cart with unexpected bargains, but for now it is what it is. And then I think of my customers who have standing orders online for my own products at market and for those of my fellow vendors. Change and progress for certain; it’s not always a bad thing.